Nolee
I climb out of Zack's black Jeep Wrangler and fix my dress and as I glance over at him, nervousness and frustration are sketched all over his handsome face.
"Hey," I take his hand in mine, tenderly caressing, "It's going to be okay. I'm right here."
Walking up to the traditional house, I admire the mix of American and Japanese architectural elements.
Zack looks down at me and nods but doesn't smile. I take a moment to appreciate how good he looks. Light brown hair slicked back with a tendril falling over his eyes, his hazel eyes heavy with fatigue—he just finished practice and apparently took a brutal hit to the ribs. His Lake Bellevue football jacket is over his board shoulders and I just know that his father is going to go haywire at the sight of it.
After Zack picked me up, he took me to In-N-Out to get food because he told me that there's no way he'll be able to eat tonight at his parent's house. I felt pity for him but I understood.
Even with heels, Zack is a foot taller than me but I love our height difference. As much as I love preaching about my womanly rights and all that—I love feeling feminine when I'm with him. I love that he makes me feel safe and appreciated and sexy.
"Zack!" Zack's mom cheerfully smiles at him, tugging him in for a massive bear hug.
"Hey, mom." He closes his eyes and I almost melt from their adorable bond.
His mom is gorgeous. Wavy blonde hair, deep blue eyes, and a face rivaling the goddess of beauty. She almost looks like Blake Lively. And the dress she has on is absolutely beautiful. She looks young and healthy. Zack's mom and Lia's mom are so hot that they make me want to switch teams.
"I've missed you," she kisses his cheek before her eyes glance at me, lighting up in joy, "Nolee, my sweetheart, I haven't seen you in so long."
She hugs me the same way she hugged her son and the feel of her arms around me is warm.
"It's good to see you, Mrs. Mackenyu."
We step into the house, and it smells of fresh laundry and Japanese blossoms.
"I've made your favorite, Zack, and you should've told me Nolee was coming with you, I would've made her favorite too."
"It's alright, I'm happy with whatever you've made and it smells delicious." I say with a bright smile and I'm not kidding. The aroma is mouthwatering. Whatever she has cooked smells rich and savory.
His mom walks into the kitchen slash dining room but Zack doesn't move so I go to him and grab his hand. Giving him a reassuring smile, we walk into the room. The table is already set with a dozen different Japanese dishes strewn about.
Zack and I are so entranced by the food that we don't hear another person walking into the kitchen.
"You came," Zack tenses at the sound of his father's voice, "I'm surprised."
Ignoring the jab, Zack looks at his dad with no expression.
"Hi, dad."
His father's eyes slide to me.
"Hi, Mr. Mackenyu." I say with a smile because one thing my experience with men taught me was that the best way to treat assholes like him is to kill them with kindness. But don't get me wrong, my kindness has a limit and if it's crossed, I can get pretty feisty.
"Let's eat," he brushes me off and takes off his suit jacket, draping it over the chair and sliding into the seat at the head of the table, "Your mother has been waiting for you with the food she's made and you're late. You don't respect me but you will respect my time."
Zack clenches his fists but doesn't say a word. Zack's mom sits on his right while Zack sits on his left and I'm next to him. His mom gestures me to start eating and I grab some soba noodles, yakitori, and a fresh kashipan. There are side dishes too—rice, miso soup, and onigiri.
Grabbing some soba noodles with my chopsticks, I bring it into my mouth, and my tastebuds boogie from how good the noodles taste.
"This is incredible." I gawk at his mom.
"Thank you, sweetheart," her face lightens in appreciation, "I wanted to experiment more with Japanese dishes as it's Zack's father's favorite food and I may have gone overboard today."
"You've definitely mastered it." I say as I take another bite of the noodles. Cutting off a piece of the yakitori, I place it in the rice and load it onto a spoon.
I ate two burgers and fries but I'm never not hungry when it comes to Japanese food.
"How's school?" Zack's father asks him in an indifferent tone.
"Good."
"Your grades?"
"Top of the class."
"With all that idiotic ball throwing, I'd doubt that, son."
I can feel Zack's anger rising but he holds it back and focuses on eating. God, I just want to punch his dad. I scowl at him even though he can't see me and it irks me that that man looks like Zack. Zack's dad is handsome—for an old dude.
I glance at his mom, worry painting my features and so do hers.
"Zack, how's football?" His mom asks in a lighthearted voice.
My heart settles a little and I catch the warm smile appearing on Zack's face.
"It's going great, mom. We won the state championship."
At this, his mom gasps, staring at her son like he's the moon that lightens up the night sky.
He is.
"I'm so proud of you."
"Nothing to be proud of a foolish sport." His father says with an unpleasant scowl.
Zack snarl.
"How is it foolish?"
"Don't talk back to me, son."
I grab onto Zack's fisted hand in his lap under the table and he relaxes.
"Honey," his mom softly speaks to his dad, "Let's calm down and eat. Here, I made your favorite, udon."
The funny thing is, Zack's father treats his mother with the utmost respect. He looks at her with love and appreciation. Why does he treat his son like garbage?
The table goes quiet but the atmosphere is tense. One word and all hell will break loose.
"Nolee, sweetheart, how are your classes going? Are you still doing cheerleading?" His mom asks me, trying to lighten up the mood and I appreciate her for it.
There is no doubt that even though Zack and his father are on thin ice with their relationship, they respect her.
"Yes, I'm still cheerleading. We're actually preparing for our cheer contest soon. And my classes are going great. Literature class is a little hard but I just need to study more."
"Your parents let you cheerlead?"
I smile, intentionally speaking loud.
"Yup, my parents love watching me cheer, they're very supportive. As parents should be, no matter what their child is doing."
His father's hold on his chopsticks harden. Good. That got to him.
Zack
"I want you off the team by the end of this semester, and if you don't, I'm revoking the very little freedom you have left."
Takeru Mackenyu is the bane of my existence.
We're in his home study with me standing near the door and watching as he pours himself a glass of whiskey. I'm ready to bolt through this door, grab Nolee and leave. That dinner was suffocating, even though mom and Nolee tried their best to keep the mood light.
His words don't surprise me. They used to but don't anymore. Now they annoy me. And I'm not surprised that his intention for calling me over for dinner was this. I expected it. He never lets it go.
"Go ahead," I put my hands in my pants pockets, looking at him unbothered, "I already pay my own tuition and expenses. I don't need your money. Nothing will make me quit football."
That gets a rise out of him and he glares at me from behind his liquor. He hates the fact that I take care of myself without the help of his stupid money. I got into this school with my own merit and I'll finish it on my own too.
"Anata wa watashi ga iu yo ni shimasu."
"No."
His eyes narrow and he puts the glass down.
"What did you just say?"
"I'll do want I want to do. I want to play football. I will graduate and get drafted and I'll laugh in your pathetic face when you see me having a better future than you'd ever planned out for me."
He takes a step toward me.
"Bureina kuso—"
I scoff.
"What? You can't stand the fact that I won't ever do what you want me to do? Reality check, father, kore ga watashino jinseidesu."
Even though I'm mixed, I still studied Japanese growing up. I love both sides of my culture. Mom speaks it fluently too and I'm glad she does because there would've been no way I would've allowed my mother to be disrespected when her husband and son spoke Japanese in her presence if she couldn't understand it.
Dad sneers, staring at me like I'm the shit under his shoe. Would it hurt him to look at me and be proud, for once? I'm very secure with myself but my confidence does falter when I see the disappointment in his eyes. I can't help it. He's my father. One part of me aches that I disrespect him like this but the other part—the better part of me—knows that I deserve better than the shit he gives me.
"You're never happy with what I do, so why do you bother? Why do you care if I play football?" I ask with a calm voice.
I'm not here to fight but if he pushes my buttons, I won't hold back. My dad has never laid a hand on me and I know he would never—he only likes to verbally and mentally abuse me.
"Because my son will not be a worthless piece of shit playing a stupid game that has no future."
"Football has a future!" I snap because I'm getting real sick of him viewing football as some clown show.
"No, it does not," he stares at me with hostility, "Do you think you'll ever be able to play if your arm is permanently injured? Or if your knees get broken? Or your fucking ribs? They'll dispose of you like a worthless whore on a red light district."
"I don't care about those things because I live in the moment. No one knows what will happen tomorrow. Ashita sura nai kamo shirenai," I say, "I play football day by day, I love playing it, and those injuries are what makes the game worth it."
I could go through hell and back in a practice or game, getting pummeled into by behemoths twice the size of me and still play the game to my heart's content. Nobody understands what football means to me—nobody but Nolee.
"You've never once come to a practice, let alone a game," I quietly say, feeling emotions clogging my throat but I refuse to give him any leverage, "You have no right to judge what I do, dad."
"Kachi ga nai, that's what you are." He says through clenched teeth. His hatred for me apparent in the way he looks at me.
Not going to lie but it hurts.
"Thanks, dad." I bitterly grin.
Turning around, my hand is on the door handle when I hear disgusting words pour out of his mouth.
"And don't ever bring your whore into my house again."
And I see red. I charge up to my father but hold myself back from putting hands on him.
"Don't you dare fucking talk about Nolee like that," nobody talks about her like that, I don't care who it is, "I won't hesitate to lay my hands on you, otosan."
Nolee
"You didn't have to help with the dishes, sweetheart." Zack's mom stands beside me as I wash up.
"I love doing them." And I do. I find washing up relaxing, especially the warm water.
His mom walks around the kitchen, storing away the leftovers and packing some for me and Zack. His father took him away and it's been twenty minutes. I hope Zack is okay and he doesn't do or say anything he'll regret. And I hope he doesn't let his father's words get to him.
"I feel at peace knowing my son has someone like you by his side," his mom caresses my back, smiling warmly at me, "Thank you, Nolee."
My heart swells at her words and I can't stop myself from hugging her. Soapy hands and all. She chuckles and rubs my back. Once I'm done with the dishes, I grab the little tote bag she made for our food. I spot Zack's varsity jacket so I go to grab it just as his father walks in and catches sight of it.
"Get this fucking jacket out of my house, right now." He seethes, eyeing the jacket like it's dirt under his shoe.
"Honey." His mom pleads with him in a soft tone.
He looks furious and I have no doubt that whatever went down with him and Zack, it was bad. I can't see Zack so I'm guessing he's already in his car.
I grab his jacket and embrace it, his woodsy, cottony scent making my mind dizzy.
"Fathers are supposed to be the biggest supporters of their sons." I speak up, locking my eyes with his father.
A little part of me wonders if the only reason his father is so adamant about Zack's football is that he's concerned for his son. He knows what his son goes through with this game, the injuries, the mental pressure—maybe he's concerned about his health but doesn't know how to show it. Or maybe, he wants Zack to exceed in football but he's using tough love in a way to push Zack to his ultimate limits...? Or maybe, he's just an ignorant idiot. I don't know.
But the way he treats Zack is unforgivable.
"Your son is an amazing person but you fail to see his accomplishments because you're so distracted by needing him to yield to what you want for him. You're so antagonized by the fact that he's not focusing on an academic future that you can't see that you're only pushing him into that stereotype that people like us have been forced into. You should be proud of your son for breaking that cliché." I don't know a lot about the NFL but I do know that there aren't many Japanese football players—let alone quarterbacks.
His father doesn't say anything but his jaw is hard, his eyes dark with anger.
"Did you know he got awarded MVP of the year? Or that he's recognized as being the best quarterback the university has ever had? Or that he's got scouts lining up to get him drafted on their teams after he graduates?" I ask those questions because I know he doesn't have answers for any of them. I want him to feel what he's losing out on for treating Zack like this.
At my questions, he falters—a little—but I see it.
He didn't know.
"Your son is so sweet and caring to everyone and he's so passionate about his goals. It's not fair to him that you treat him like that when all he wants is his father to support him. To come to one game and see how gifted he is. But I guess you're too close-minded for that. That's alright though, he doesn't need you. He's got his friends, he's got his mother, he's got me and most importantly, he's got himself." Zack is stronger than any guy I've ever met—and I don't just mean psychically.
His father doesn't say a word, just straight up looks at me but the anger in his eyes has faded—a tiny bit.
I put on a smile and look towards his mother.
"Thank you for dinner, it was wonderful."
Zack
Nolee walks out of the kitchen and into the foyer where I stand frozen. She looks surprised to see me but smiles and grabs my hand. I take it and we walk out of the house. But my eyes are on her.
I stop just as we reach my Jeep. She notices and glances at me, worry quickly glowing in her beautiful eyes.
"What? Are you okay?"
Nolee has supported me like no other. She's been there for me since the beginning, even when we bickered like an old married couple. She ran plays with me, made me laugh when I had a shit day at practice, even trash-talked opposing teams at games for me. She cheers for me, for my team. And she just stood up for me in front of my father.
Not only is she fucking gorgeous but she's got a heart of gold. She annoys the fuck out of me with her smart mouth, drives me crazy with her body, and makes my heart pound like it's begging for its last breath of oxygen.
I don't deserve this stupid, ditzy cheerleader...but I'm a hard-headed motherfucker that gets what he wants.
"Zack—"
"I love you." I say those three little words and when I see surprise and adoration glimmer in those honey eyes, I know that I'm never letting this girl go.
Nolee's lips are parted as she gawks at me and I let go of her hand, step into her and take her lips on mine. This kiss feels a million times more passionate because I finally confessed my stupid feelings for this girl that I should've let out when I sent her that first dick pic.
Nolee breaks the kiss and shyly—yup, shyly—smiles.
"I love you, too."