Game Changer

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  To every girl who chooses herself

  FEBRUARY 8, 2020 Football Season Was Over

  CHAPTER 1

  ASA

  Lies. My life was a series of lies that had become my norm. I didn’t want to accept it. Waking up daily knowing this could be the day I face my worst fear shouldn’t be the first thing that haunted me when my eyes opened. I would turn eighteen in six days. I wouldn’t be a minor anymore. That protection was gone, but it wouldn’t stop me from doing what had to be done if my father went too far.

  Understanding my mom was something I’d given up on years ago. I’d accepted that she loved him and that was the only reason she stayed. How could a woman love a man who emotionally and physically abused her? I couldn’t comprehend it, but she loved him. She had to love him because the son of a bitch had hurt her more times than I could count. The only time I had ever seen her fight back was when I stepped in front of her and his fist landed on my eleven-year-old jaw, knocking me to the ground. That day she’d been beat so badly, it had marked me. Terrified me.

  Still, she didn’t leave him.

  She did everything she could to make him happy, and when that didn’t work, she took to the sofa to watch Netflix dramas and drink bottles of wine alone while he was at work and I was at school. The cycle was so fucked up in this house, it was a miracle we were both still alive.

  Football season was over. My senior year had only a few months left, and I was headed to Ole Miss on a football scholarship. My father had bragged about it to anyone who would listen. The supportive, proud father, family man, successful local businessman, head of the city council, Malcom Griffith. I despised him, and yet I was planning to leave my mother to live alone with this monster.

  She could leave him. I was bigger than he was now. I could take the bastard if he tried to stop her from going. I’d told her as much—I’d begged and pleaded with her to leave him. Go live with my abuela in New Mexico. The small town of Taos was full of my mother’s family. Her mother was a force to be reckoned with, and so were her brothers. She’d be safe… she’d be free. I could go to college and live a life without guilt or fear.

  Nothing I said could make her go.

  Nothing he did was bad enough to send her running.

  “Fuck,” I growled, thinking about our argument before I stormed out of the house ten minutes earlier. Standing beside my black Chevy truck with my right hand on the gas pump and my other flat against the side of my truck, I glared at my reflection in the tinted window. I looked like him and I hated it. My eyes were blue like his. My shoulders broad but my height now six three. Two inches taller than him. The only thing about my mother I could see was the dark black color of my hair and the dimples that appeared when I smiled.

  “Everything okay?” a female voice asked. I hadn’t realized anyone else was out here. I’d been the only one when I pulled in to fill up. Turning my head only, I recognized the girl. I didn’t know her, but I’d seen her around. Here mostly, when I got gas. She was a Ramos. Her parents owned the service station and grocery store attached to it. She looked to be my age, but she didn’t attend Lawton High School. In fact, she had never attended middle school or elementary school either. None of the Ramos kids did, and I wasn’t sure how many siblings she had, but I knew there were a lot of them. A few years back I remember the oldest one overdosed or something like that. I wasn’t sure exactly how she died.

  “It’s fine,” I muttered, embarrassed to have been caught in my current mood. Normally a female that looked like this one would have my charm switch flipped. I liked to flirt. I was fucking good at it. But not now. Attractive females were not at the top of my “give a shit” list.

  I expected her to walk away. Leave me to my bad mood, but she wasn’t moving. I wasn’t meeting her gaze, but I could see her long dark hair blowing in the cool breeze from the cold front we had moving in today. Her hair was so dark, it was almost black. The sun, however, showcased the brown highlights in it. The same with her dark brown eyes, which seemed lighter outside the store. I’d only seen her inside the store in the past.

  The pump clicked off and I replaced the nozzle, then closed my cap before turning my attention back to her. She blinked when my eyes met hers and held them as if she hadn’t realized she was standing there staring at me. A shy smile tugged at her full lips. It was a shame I’d never taken the time to speak to her in the past. Right now was not only a bad day, but it was also too late. I’d be gone soon and she would never leave this town. She’d be here forever just like her parents. Just like my parents. The idea soured my mood even more.

  “Okay, well, uh, I was just checking,” she said, and paused as if I was expected to say something else. There was nothing to say. I’d hit my truck out of anger, and none of that was her business. When I stood there holding her gaze silently, her cheeks slightly flushed, and she ducked her head to focus on the ground. Finally she began to walk back toward the storefront. I watched her go and admired the way she wore a pair of faded jeans. The black combat boots surprised me. The strapless top she was wearing was a pale yellow, and she had small white daisy earrings dangling from her ears. The pink gloss on her lips and delicate scent of her perfume made her appear too feminine for shoes like those. I wondered what her name was, then just as quickly shut that down. I had no time for this. My future and my mother’s safety were my only priorities now.

  Jerking my truck door open with more force than necessary, I climbed inside and pulled away from the service station. The last time I’d seen the girl had been months ago when I’d gone into the grocery side of their store to pick up some items for my mom. She’d been the one at the cash register that day. I had been on the phone dealing with Ryker’s drama at the time and not paying much attention to anything else.

  My phone began ringing beside me, interrupting my thoughts, and I glanced at the screen in my truck to see who it was before answering. I wasn’t speaking to my father if he decided to call. It was Nash. With relief, I pressed accept on the touch screen of my truck’s control system.

  “Yeah,” I said in the way of a greeting.

  “Where you at?” he asked over the speakerphone in my truck.

  “Just got gas. Why?”

  “Thought you’d want to come to the field house. Some of the guys are here working out, then headed to the field later.”

  I didn’t want to go back to the house and be forced to hear my mother tell me that I had to respect my father. She needed to be thankful I hadn’t slammed my fist in his jaw after he spoke to her the way he did over breakfast. Glancing in the backseat quickly, I saw my duffel bag and knew there were clean shorts in there I could change into.

  “I’ll be there in five,” I replied.

  Then we both clicked off and my truck was silent again.

  I Took Their Money and Gave Them Cinnamon Rolls CHAPTER 2

  EZMITA

  “I am an idiot. Why did I go out there?” I muttered in frustration as I let the door close behind me. Why did I go out there? Was I so desperate to talk to Asa that I was looking for any reason to strike up a conversation? He’d looked at me like I was a wacko. I’d done a great job acting like a dork. It had taken me weeks to work up the nerve to speak to him, and when I finally did, that was how I chose to do it? Idiota!

  Turning, I watched as the black Chevy truck drove away. I never missed that truck when it drove by or was outside. It was as if I had Asa Griffith radar. Another reason I needed to get out of this small town. I’d let some guy I had never had a conversation with become my obsession. I wondered if he even remembered the moment that started my attraction to him. Maybe he did things like that all the time and I had only witnessed that one moment. No matter, that moment had stuck with me. He’d become something more than just a beautiful boy I liked to look at.

  The single mother who had been counting out her change to pay for a few groceries while her little boy had been begging for a lollipop had been heartbreaking. I had been trying to think of a way to give her the groceries without embarrassing her in the process when Asa had walked up and placed a handful of the lollipops on the counter, then handed me a twenty-dollar bill and told me to add those to the lady’s bag. The woman had teared up and been so flustered thanking Asa while I had fallen in love, or at least my crush on him had begun.

  It was past time I got a life. My parents just weren’t on board with my leaving the nest. I scowled as thoughts of my last argument with my father over my going away to college replayed in my head. It was no wonder I’d become fixated on a guy I didn’t even know. Daydreaming was my only escape from this place.

  Asa Griffith, with his eyes the color of ocean waves, wide shoulders, dark hair, and dimples, was the classic poster boy for a girl’s daydreaming. At least a sheltered, awkward teenage girl like myself. He always made me feel flushed and nervous at the sight of him. Of course, he had no idea who I was other than the girl who had checked out his groceries, and taken the occasional cash payment for his gas when he wasn’t paying with a card. I was pathetic and I knew it.

  Opening the door to the store,
I stepped inside, then sighed heavily at the sight of my mother frowning at me from behind the register. There were no customers in the store, but from her disapproving scowl, one would think there was a line waiting on me.

  “He was having difficulties with the pump, Momma,” I said before she could unleash her string of verbal scolding.

  “¡Sabes mejor que dejar la caja registradora desatendida!” she replied angrily, not believing my excuse. Her only concern was that I had left the cash register unattended. Although it had less than one hundred dollars in it at any given time. That didn’t matter to Momma. Doing my job and not paying attention to boys was what she cared about.

  “There was no one in here, Momma,” I said, pointing out the obvious.

  She opened her mouth, still scowling at me, when I was blessedly saved from her impending temper. The jingle of the bell on the front door played its familiar sound as someone entered the store. Her scowl immediately became a friendly smile as she flashed it at the customer. She’d finish this scolding later. My mother missed nothing. She would have seen Asa outside and she would know. She always did. Because of my mother’s overbearing ways, I’d never been on a date. It was just sad that I was seventeen years old and still hadn’t been kissed. The joys of working, taking care of my younger siblings, and being homeschooled. I had no social life.

  “Hello, Mr. Lee,” my mother greeted the customer. “How can we help you today?”

  I went to take my place behind the counter before glancing over to see Ryker Lee’s father with his friendly expression as he replied to my mother. “Just filling up the truck and in need of some coffee and one of your cinnamon rolls. Hope I’m not too late this morning and you have one left.”

  My mother’s cinnamon rolls were famous in this town. She woke up at four every morning and made five dozen from scratch. Rarely was there one left after nine a.m. She was proud of that fact. Her churros were equally as popular after three in the afternoon. She made exactly six dozen of those, and they were always sold out while they were still warm.

  “You’re lucky. I have three left. Let me go wrap one up for you. Ezmita, you get Mr. Lee a fresh cup of coffee,” she said in the nicest commanding tone she could muster. I nodded quickly and went to check on the pot of coffee I had started before Asa had driven up outside.

  “Go ahead and get me all three. I’ll take the others home to the family,” he called out to her. I checked the clock out of habit. It was 8:17. She’d sold out earlier than yesterday. Not her record-breaking time of 7:49, but still impressive for a Saturday, when people got out a little later in the morning.

  Momma knew when she told him only three were left he’d take them all. People were creatures of habit. Just like my parents, I too knew of everyone in this small town. I knew their regular orders. I remembered the way they liked their coffee and what their favorite snacks were. If they were going to ask for a cinnamon roll with their morning coffee or not. That knowledge was where it ended. Mr. Lee’s son, Ryker, was my age, and just like Asa, he didn’t know my name. I was an outsider in the town I had grown up in. That wasn’t their fault and I didn’t blame them.

  I blamed my parents. They never allowed me to live a life outside this family. I had no friends. I had siblings and cousins. I had no experience in the world. I had experience running a store. While other girls flirted with the boys and went on dates, I took their money and gave them cinnamon rolls. My older sister’s death had made them even more overprotective than they had been before. I wanted a life, but I knew as long as I lived under their roof, I’d have to fight to get one—and even then I didn’t foresee them giving in to my request.

  With a sigh, I finished pouring Mr. Lee’s coffee and securely fastened the plastic top on it before walking back to the counter and placing it there for him to take. The same routine, day in and day out. My life shouldn’t be this boring at seventeen, yet my parents had made sure it was as mundane as possible.

  “How old are you now, Ezmita?” Mr. Lee asked me with his sincere, friendly smile.

  “Seventeen,” I replied.

  He gave a nod. “I guessed as much. I thought you were around Ryker’s age. Have any plan for college?” he asked then, seeming genuinely interested in the answer. It was rare anyone asked me more than if the coffee was fresh or requested a food item from the back. Something that had to do with me and me alone was nice.

  “Yes, sir, I want to go to—”

  “Ezmita, go tend to Manuel,” Momma interrupted with a sharpness in her tone that didn’t go unnoticed.

  My wishes for college and my parents did not coincide. Speaking of my future plans to anyone else was off-limits. She wouldn’t allow it. I doubted my four-year-old brother, Manuel, needed tending to when Rosa and Teresa were in the house with him and Miguel, my seven-year-old brother. Rosa was fourteen and Teresa was thirteen, both bossy and competent. Momma just wanted to get me out of the store and shut me up from saying to anyone that I wanted to go to Loyola Marymount University in Los Angeles. Starting from the time I began my ninth-grade year, I’d done everything on the checklist to make sure I wasn’t only accepted but that I could get a scholarship. My acceptance had come last week as well as the offer for a scholarship. I was running out of time to respond. Trying to talk to my parents about it was the most difficult part of the process.

  Most parents would be proud. Mine weren’t. They refused to accept the idea of their oldest living daughter moving off to California to attend college. It didn’t matter if it was a Catholic university. It didn’t matter that it was an excellent education. I was to do as they had planned for me. Right here under their thumb.

  For now, I would let them think that I had accepted their decision. Simply because my mother was a force to be reckoned with. All four feet eleven inches of her.

  FEBRUARY 24, 2020 That Man Loves No One

  CHAPTER 3

  ASA

  I had one week until signing day. One fucking week to commit to a college. Ryker was positive of his decision. He was making plans, and I was part of his plans. He expected me to be right there beside him. His father was proud of him, and Ryker had no worry in the world. He had the best life of any guy I knew.

  When Ryker moved off to pursue his dreams, he wouldn’t be leaving his mother behind in danger. There was no fear of what would happen when he no longer lived under their roof. That was how it should be. How it was supposed to be. Something I’d never known.

  I slammed my truck door with more force than necessary and stood in the driveway of my house, staring at the two-story craftsman-style home my father had designed. With its detail and impressive woodwork, it appeared to be a safe home on the outside. Just like my father. They were both façades. There was nothing safe inside.

  If I stayed away, I could pretend that reality behind those doors didn’t exist, but then my mother would live in a hell I couldn’t allow. I was all that stood between her and the monster we both lived with. As a child, I’d cried and begged her to leave. For us to run away in the night.

  She never acknowledged the words I was saying. Instead she’d rock me and sing songs to me in Spanish that I didn’t understand because my father forbade her to speak Spanish. My youth had been a learning period for me to adapt to the world I was born into. Hiding what my father was became a habit I followed just like my mother did.

  I was tired of it. I was sick of how she was treated by the man who was supposed to love and protect her. How could she continue to expect me to just ignore his behavior? I wasn’t a kid anymore. I was eighteen and I felt like I was thirty. Living with an abusive father made you grow up quickly. There were few fond childhood memories in this home. The ones I did have, he wasn’t here. My mother was the reason for any happy memory I had. He was never in those memories.

  Walking slowly toward the door, I waited a moment to listen closely for my father’s voice. He’d be careful not to yell too loudly, but he could be just as dangerous in silence. When I heard nothing, I opened the door and went inside preparing for the unknown, like I always did.