Heisman runner up and kept Vaugh/Underwood from reaching his first Natty back in 2027. Had to wait a whole year for that lick back
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Captain Canada
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Wasn't his Dad he called. He's already in Pittsburgh + has been impossible to reach (thus leading to their current rift)
Y'all have no faith in this man's relationship huh
For better or for worse
Homecoming to play for Pitt would be intriguing but I don't know if the ACC is the move
If we end up running into Coastal in this series, the things I'll do on the field will be animalistic. (nh if needed).
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Captain Canada
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You a dark negro since #thatnight
She was coming to Pittsburgh for Thanksgiving regardless, fn
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Caesar
- Chise GOAT
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Oh so she didn't do it for Zane, it was just convenience. So, you're saying if she wasn't going to Pittsburgh and this had happened in say February, she wouldn't have done it because it's all about her?Captain Canada wrote: ↑16 Jun 2026, 08:46She was coming to Pittsburgh for Thanksgiving regardless, fn
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Captain Canada
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Let's try this again: Katie was coming to Pittsburgh for Thanksgiving regardless rather than going home. Bianca finds out Zane is in crisis, switches to an earlier flight, and Katie tags along with her because she was coming regardless.Caesar wrote: ↑16 Jun 2026, 09:08Oh so she didn't do it for Zane, it was just convenience. So, you're saying if she wasn't going to Pittsburgh and this had happened in say February, she wouldn't have done it because it's all about her?Captain Canada wrote: ↑16 Jun 2026, 08:46She was coming to Pittsburgh for Thanksgiving regardless, fn
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Captain Canada
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Season VI | Episode 7 - The Real Six
The moment Zane saw Rasheed step through the hospital entrance, something inside him finally snapped.
The exhaustion, the fear, the helplessness he had been carrying around for days suddenly found a target. His grandmother lay unconscious upstairs, hooked to machines. His father had vanished without explanation. His phone had become a revolving door of bad news, uncertainty, and unanswered questions. Now, after all of that, Rasheed Jones had the nerve to casually walk into the hospital as if he hadn't been missing while the most important woman in both of their lives fought for hers.
Zane barely registered the concerned looks from the people around him before his feet were already moving.
He strode across the lobby with purpose, his jaw locked so tightly it ached. Behind him, he heard voices - Johntay muttering something under his breath, Katie whispering to Bianca, Marie shifting uncomfortably - but they all blurred together into meaningless noise. The only thing Zane could see was his father.
Rasheed noticed him immediately.
The older man slowed his pace and lifted both hands slightly in front of himself as Zane approached, not in surrender, but in acknowledgment. It was the look of someone who fully understood the anger headed his way and had already accepted that he deserved it.
Even through the haze of his own emotions, Zane noticed something different about him.
Rasheed looked exhausted.
Not tired in the ordinary sense. Not the kind of exhaustion that came from missing sleep or working too many hours. There was something deeper there. His eyes seemed older somehow. The lines around them appeared sharper. His shoulders looked heavier beneath his jacket. For a brief moment, Zane thought he saw something flicker across his father's face - guilt, grief, maybe even fear.
Whatever it was disappeared before he could identify it.
The two men stopped inches apart.
It was the closest they had been physically since the Penn State game months earlier, shortly after Rasheed had been released from prison. Standing there now, chest to chest, Zane was struck by how much they looked alike. Same broad shoulders. Same height. Same dark eyes.
The difference was that Rasheed looked like a version of himself that life had spent years trying to break.
"Where the fuck have you been?" Zane demanded.
The words came out harsher than he intended, but he didn't care.
Rasheed nodded once.
"I know what happened."
"Do you?" Zane shot back. "Because it sure as hell didn't seem like it."
"I got Ashlee's messages.”
The answer only confused him further.
Rasheed continued calmly.
"I got her texts. I told her to call you. I told her I'd get here when I could."
For a second, Zane simply stared. The response made absolutely no sense. His eyebrows pulled together as he searched his father's face.
"When you could?" he repeated. "What the fuck does that mean?"
Rasheed remained silent. Zane felt his frustration spike.
"No, seriously. Explain that shit to me. Grandma's in a coma and you're talking about getting here when you could? Where were you?"
Nothing. Just that same unreadable stare.
"What could've possibly been more important than being here?" Zane pressed.
The hospital lobby suddenly felt much smaller. The sounds around them seemed to fade. Rasheed's expression flattened. His eyes became completely unreadable.
"That's none of your business."
For a moment, Zane genuinely thought he had misheard him. His mouth fell open slightly.
"None of my business?" he repeated.
Disbelief quickly transformed into anger.
"Who do you think you fucking are?"
The change in Rasheed happened instantly. One second he was calm. The next, his eyes hardened.
The shift was so abrupt that it caught Zane off guard.
Rasheed stepped forward until there was barely any space left between them. Their foreheads nearly touched. Up close, Zane could see every scar, every wrinkle, every mark left behind by prison, violence, and years of hardship.
For the first time, looking at his father felt like looking into a mirror. A version of himself twenty years older.
A version shaped by rage.
"You can keep pressing me," Rasheed said quietly, his voice carrying a dangerous edge, "and we can settle this like real niggas."
The intensity behind the words made the hair on the back of Zane's neck stand up. Rasheed didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to.
"Or," he continued, "we can dead this shit right now and focus on what actually matters."
The two men stared at one another.
Neither moved.
Neither blinked.
For several seconds, the tension stretched between them like a wire pulled too tight. Zane could feel his pulse hammering in his ears.
He wanted to keep arguing. If his father insisted on taking it the extra mile - all things considered - who was Zane to back down? He wanted to demand answers. He wanted to know where his father had been and why he had disappeared during the worst week of their lives.
However, beneath all of that anger was a terrible realization. Rasheed wasn't going to tell him.
Not here. Not now.
Rasheed's attention shifted past him. His eyes swept over the small crowd gathered behind Zane. The sight seemed to catch him by surprise. His gaze landed on Johntay first.
Then Marie. Then Bianca. Then Katie.
The corner of his mouth twitched upward. A short laugh escaped him, not because anything was funny but because the situation was absurd.
"Looks like you got enough going on already," he muttered.
Zane followed his gaze.
Only then did he fully take in the bizarre collection of people standing together in the hallway. His current girlfriend. His ex-girlfriend who presumably did not know about his current girlfriend. His ex-girlfriend's best friend. His de facto best friend.
All watching what looked dangerously close to becoming a fight.
Before anyone could respond, Rasheed noticed a nurse heading toward Mary's room. His entire demeanor changed. Without another word, he stepped around Zane and began walking.
"Where are you going?" Zane called after him.
Rasheed didn't stop.
"I'll get caught up here." The answer floated back over his shoulder. "I'll catch up with you back at the house."
And just like that, he was gone. The tension that had been holding Zane upright suddenly released. He looked down and realized his hands had been clenched into fists the entire time.
His forearms ached. Slowly, he opened and closed his fingers, trying to force some life back into them. When he finally turned around, he was met by four very different reactions.
Marie looked uncomfortable.
Bianca looked concerned.
Katie looked sympathetic.
Johntay looked like he had just witnessed a car crash and wasn't entirely sure whether it was over yet.
The sight nearly made Zane laugh. Instead, he dragged a hand down his face.
God, he was tired. Every part of him felt heavy. The adrenaline was fading now, leaving behind only exhaustion. Physical exhaustion. Emotional exhaustion. The kind of exhaustion that laid its foundation against your skeleton.
He took a slow breath. Then another. Finally, he shook his head.
"I'm heading home."
Nobody argued.
"I can't do this hospital shit anymore tonight."
He looked toward Johntay and Marie.
"You two can come crash at my place if you don't got somewhere to stay."
Marie nodded immediately. Johntay shrugged.
"That's why we came, ain't it?"
A faint smile almost appeared.
Then Zane looked toward Bianca and Katie. Bianca seemed to understand immediately.
"We'll head back to my parents' place." Her voice remained gentle. "We can swing by later if that's okay."
Zane nodded.
Before he could answer, Bianca's eyes flicked briefly toward Marie. The gesture was subtle, but still easy enough to read. She was analyzing. Starting to put the pieces together herself.
"Besides," she added carefully, "you two probably got some catching up to do."
Marie shifted slightly. Zane noticed. Bianca noticed.
Everybody noticed but thankfully nobody had the energy to unpack that particular disaster tonight. Least of all him.
So he simply nodded.
"Yeah."
That was all he could manage.
The group began moving toward the elevators and exit when another voice suddenly echoed through the hallway.
"Seems like I'm late to the party, huh?"
The familiar drawl stopped Zane in his tracks.
For the first time in days, something resembling genuine happiness broke through the fog.
He turned. And there he was.
Malik.
A Miami Hurricanes duffel bag hung from one shoulder, his travel clothes wrinkled from what had clearly been a long trip. He looked exhausted himself, but there was still that same steady confidence about him that seemed impossible to shake.
The sight of him hit Zane harder than he expected because unlike everyone else who had arrived, Malik represented something simple.
A reminder of when times were a little easier. When there was a smidge less pressure on his head all the time. When things weren’t so complicated.
A smile finally appeared on Zane's face.
"I'm sorry I called."
Malik immediately waved him off.
"Man, shut up."
His former quarterback and - for a time - nemesis crossed the distance between them and pulled Zane into a dap that turned into a brief one-armed hug.
The gesture lasted a second longer than normal.
Long enough for Zane to understand exactly why he'd come.
When Malik pulled away, he leaned in close enough that only Zane could hear him.
His eyes briefly drifted toward the collection of people standing nearby.
Then he smirked.
"Based on the people in this hallway," he murmured, "it seems like you're gonna need me more than you thought, nigga."
The Jones house felt smaller than Zane remembered.
The realization hit him the moment he stepped through the front door. His hand remained wrapped around the handle for a second longer than necessary as he stood frozen in the entryway, unable to force himself forward.
The familiar scent of the house lingered in the air - the faint traces of old wood, laundry detergent, and whatever meal his grandmother had cooked last before everything had changed. His eyes drifted across the living room, and immediately his mind betrayed him.
He saw Mary lying unconscious on the floor in the exact spot where he now stood. The image was so vivid that it stole the breath from his lungs. For a moment, the sounds behind him disappeared entirely. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, grief tightening around his chest like a vice. He remained there for several seconds, fighting through the memory before finally stepping aside and ushering himself forward so the others could come in.
Behind him, Malik ducked through the doorway first, followed by Johntay and Marie. None of them spoke immediately. The weight of why they were all here seemed to follow them into the house, settling over everything like a heavy blanket.
The three of them carried their bags inside and placed them at the foot of the staircase leading to the second floor while Zane headed automatically toward the kitchen. The familiar motions gave him something to focus on. He opened a cupboard, grabbed several glasses, and filled them one by one at the sink. The sound of running water became the loudest thing in the room. When he turned around, he handed a glass to each of them before leaning back against the counter himself.
An awkward silence settled over the kitchen. Nobody seemed quite sure what to say. The house felt too quiet without Mary's voice bouncing from room to room, too still without her bustling around the kitchen correcting someone or insisting they eat more food than they could reasonably handle. Everyone seemed aware of it.
The tension finally broke when Malik nudged Johntay in the shoulder with his elbow.
"Man, you should've heard this nigga on the phone," Malik said, shaking his head with a grin. "I damn near thought he was about to start crying right there."
A smile threatened to pull at Zane's mouth despite himself.
Johntay immediately burst into laughter. "Nah, I wasn't gonna clown you for it," he said, pointing toward Zane with his cup. "But calling another nigga and asking him to hop on a flight? That's crazy work."
Malik pointed dramatically at Zane as if Johntay had just proven his point.
"Exactly," he said. "I had to check twice to make sure it was really my boy calling me. Thought somebody stole his phone."
For the first time in days, Zane felt something other than dread. He shook his head and let out a tired laugh before leaning farther back against the counter.
"I clearly wasn't in my right mind," he said.
The amusement faded from his face almost as quickly as it had arrived. He looked over at Malik and his expression softened.
"Honestly, though, when my grandfather died last year, having you around was huge for me."
The room quieted again, but this time it wasn't uncomfortable.
Zane continued, speaking more thoughtfully now.
"You were pretty much the only reason I left the house half the time. I don't think you realize that. I was in a bad place. Probably would've screwed up my entire future if I'd stayed stuck in that mindset. Hell, I might've ended up at some JUCO somewhere if I never got myself together."
Johntay nodded slowly, understanding immediately what Zane was trying to say.
Malik simply took a sip of water before shrugging.
"I spent most of senior year making your life hell," he replied. "Least I could do after all that."
Johntay's eyebrows shot upward.
"Oh, there's definitely a story there."
Across the room, Marie's attention immediately shifted between the two of them. Her curiosity was obvious.
Malik and Zane exchanged a glance. It was brief, but there was an entire conversation hidden inside it. Neither of them wanted to tell that story today. The memories of their rocky beginnings felt insignificant compared to everything else happening right now.
Both simply shrugged.
Johntay groaned dramatically.
"Stingy-ass niggas."
The comment earned a genuine laugh from everyone in the room. The sound felt foreign inside the house but welcome nonetheless.
As the laughter died down, Marie rose from her seat and walked over toward Zane. She placed a gentle hand against the center of his chest and looked up at him carefully.
"I think you should probably take a shower," she said softly. "And maybe sleep for a few hours."
Before Zane could answer, Johntay perked up from across the kitchen.
"Yeah, nigga," he said immediately. "You musty at this point."
Another round of laughter followed. Zane rolled his eyes and shook his head.
"Appreciate the concern."
"Just trying to keep it real."
Despite himself, Zane nodded. Marie was right. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept properly. He couldn't remember the last time he had looked in a mirror either. Every muscle in his body felt heavy. Every thought felt dulled by exhaustion.
He set his half-finished glass behind him on the counter and grabbed a couple of bags.
"Aight," he muttered. "I'll be back down."
He headed upstairs, leaving the others in the kitchen. As soon as he disappeared around the corner, Johntay turned toward Malik.
"So how long you here for?"
Malik sighed and leaned back in his chair.
"Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?"
"I fly back in the morning."
Johntay grimaced.
"Damn."
Malik shrugged.
"The coaches only let me sneak away for a day. We've got bigger stuff coming up."
"The Playoffs?"
"Exactly."
Malik nodded.
“We getting ready for a run. We got Clemson in the ACC Championship next."
Johntay immediately sucked his teeth.
"Then y'all better smack the piss outta them boys."
Malik chuckled.
"Should be light work."
The confidence in his voice lasted all of two seconds before he shrugged again.
"Though I probably won't even see the field. I'm still third string."
Johntay nodded knowingly.
"Fair - Canes always run deep. I thought you would have lucked out with Carson Beck heading into the draft last year."
The conversation drifted from there into football talk, recruiting rumors, and speculation about the postseason. For the first time since arriving, the atmosphere in the house began to loosen. It wasn't normal - not even close - but it was closer than anything they had experienced since receiving the phone call.
Marie quietly pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat down.
For the first time since that awful walk home from the bar with Zane days earlier, she felt herself unclench.
The hospital had been overwhelming. The flight had been stressful. The uncertainty surrounding Mary's condition had settled over everyone like a storm cloud. Through it all, she had spent most of her time worrying about Zane, watching him carry the weight of the world on his shoulders while pretending he could handle it.
Now, sitting in the warm kitchen of his childhood home while hearing Johntay and Malik bicker across the room, she finally allowed herself a moment to breathe.
The moment Zane saw Rasheed step through the hospital entrance, something inside him finally snapped.
The exhaustion, the fear, the helplessness he had been carrying around for days suddenly found a target. His grandmother lay unconscious upstairs, hooked to machines. His father had vanished without explanation. His phone had become a revolving door of bad news, uncertainty, and unanswered questions. Now, after all of that, Rasheed Jones had the nerve to casually walk into the hospital as if he hadn't been missing while the most important woman in both of their lives fought for hers.
Zane barely registered the concerned looks from the people around him before his feet were already moving.
He strode across the lobby with purpose, his jaw locked so tightly it ached. Behind him, he heard voices - Johntay muttering something under his breath, Katie whispering to Bianca, Marie shifting uncomfortably - but they all blurred together into meaningless noise. The only thing Zane could see was his father.
Rasheed noticed him immediately.
The older man slowed his pace and lifted both hands slightly in front of himself as Zane approached, not in surrender, but in acknowledgment. It was the look of someone who fully understood the anger headed his way and had already accepted that he deserved it.
Even through the haze of his own emotions, Zane noticed something different about him.
Rasheed looked exhausted.
Not tired in the ordinary sense. Not the kind of exhaustion that came from missing sleep or working too many hours. There was something deeper there. His eyes seemed older somehow. The lines around them appeared sharper. His shoulders looked heavier beneath his jacket. For a brief moment, Zane thought he saw something flicker across his father's face - guilt, grief, maybe even fear.
Whatever it was disappeared before he could identify it.
The two men stopped inches apart.
It was the closest they had been physically since the Penn State game months earlier, shortly after Rasheed had been released from prison. Standing there now, chest to chest, Zane was struck by how much they looked alike. Same broad shoulders. Same height. Same dark eyes.
The difference was that Rasheed looked like a version of himself that life had spent years trying to break.
"Where the fuck have you been?" Zane demanded.
The words came out harsher than he intended, but he didn't care.
Rasheed nodded once.
"I know what happened."
"Do you?" Zane shot back. "Because it sure as hell didn't seem like it."
"I got Ashlee's messages.”
The answer only confused him further.
Rasheed continued calmly.
"I got her texts. I told her to call you. I told her I'd get here when I could."
For a second, Zane simply stared. The response made absolutely no sense. His eyebrows pulled together as he searched his father's face.
"When you could?" he repeated. "What the fuck does that mean?"
Rasheed remained silent. Zane felt his frustration spike.
"No, seriously. Explain that shit to me. Grandma's in a coma and you're talking about getting here when you could? Where were you?"
Nothing. Just that same unreadable stare.
"What could've possibly been more important than being here?" Zane pressed.
The hospital lobby suddenly felt much smaller. The sounds around them seemed to fade. Rasheed's expression flattened. His eyes became completely unreadable.
"That's none of your business."
For a moment, Zane genuinely thought he had misheard him. His mouth fell open slightly.
"None of my business?" he repeated.
Disbelief quickly transformed into anger.
"Who do you think you fucking are?"
The change in Rasheed happened instantly. One second he was calm. The next, his eyes hardened.
The shift was so abrupt that it caught Zane off guard.
Rasheed stepped forward until there was barely any space left between them. Their foreheads nearly touched. Up close, Zane could see every scar, every wrinkle, every mark left behind by prison, violence, and years of hardship.
For the first time, looking at his father felt like looking into a mirror. A version of himself twenty years older.
A version shaped by rage.
"You can keep pressing me," Rasheed said quietly, his voice carrying a dangerous edge, "and we can settle this like real niggas."
The intensity behind the words made the hair on the back of Zane's neck stand up. Rasheed didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to.
"Or," he continued, "we can dead this shit right now and focus on what actually matters."
The two men stared at one another.
Neither moved.
Neither blinked.
For several seconds, the tension stretched between them like a wire pulled too tight. Zane could feel his pulse hammering in his ears.
He wanted to keep arguing. If his father insisted on taking it the extra mile - all things considered - who was Zane to back down? He wanted to demand answers. He wanted to know where his father had been and why he had disappeared during the worst week of their lives.
However, beneath all of that anger was a terrible realization. Rasheed wasn't going to tell him.
Not here. Not now.
Rasheed's attention shifted past him. His eyes swept over the small crowd gathered behind Zane. The sight seemed to catch him by surprise. His gaze landed on Johntay first.
Then Marie. Then Bianca. Then Katie.
The corner of his mouth twitched upward. A short laugh escaped him, not because anything was funny but because the situation was absurd.
"Looks like you got enough going on already," he muttered.
Zane followed his gaze.
Only then did he fully take in the bizarre collection of people standing together in the hallway. His current girlfriend. His ex-girlfriend who presumably did not know about his current girlfriend. His ex-girlfriend's best friend. His de facto best friend.
All watching what looked dangerously close to becoming a fight.
Before anyone could respond, Rasheed noticed a nurse heading toward Mary's room. His entire demeanor changed. Without another word, he stepped around Zane and began walking.
"Where are you going?" Zane called after him.
Rasheed didn't stop.
"I'll get caught up here." The answer floated back over his shoulder. "I'll catch up with you back at the house."
And just like that, he was gone. The tension that had been holding Zane upright suddenly released. He looked down and realized his hands had been clenched into fists the entire time.
His forearms ached. Slowly, he opened and closed his fingers, trying to force some life back into them. When he finally turned around, he was met by four very different reactions.
Marie looked uncomfortable.
Bianca looked concerned.
Katie looked sympathetic.
Johntay looked like he had just witnessed a car crash and wasn't entirely sure whether it was over yet.
The sight nearly made Zane laugh. Instead, he dragged a hand down his face.
God, he was tired. Every part of him felt heavy. The adrenaline was fading now, leaving behind only exhaustion. Physical exhaustion. Emotional exhaustion. The kind of exhaustion that laid its foundation against your skeleton.
He took a slow breath. Then another. Finally, he shook his head.
"I'm heading home."
Nobody argued.
"I can't do this hospital shit anymore tonight."
He looked toward Johntay and Marie.
"You two can come crash at my place if you don't got somewhere to stay."
Marie nodded immediately. Johntay shrugged.
"That's why we came, ain't it?"
A faint smile almost appeared.
Then Zane looked toward Bianca and Katie. Bianca seemed to understand immediately.
"We'll head back to my parents' place." Her voice remained gentle. "We can swing by later if that's okay."
Zane nodded.
Before he could answer, Bianca's eyes flicked briefly toward Marie. The gesture was subtle, but still easy enough to read. She was analyzing. Starting to put the pieces together herself.
"Besides," she added carefully, "you two probably got some catching up to do."
Marie shifted slightly. Zane noticed. Bianca noticed.
Everybody noticed but thankfully nobody had the energy to unpack that particular disaster tonight. Least of all him.
So he simply nodded.
"Yeah."
That was all he could manage.
The group began moving toward the elevators and exit when another voice suddenly echoed through the hallway.
"Seems like I'm late to the party, huh?"
The familiar drawl stopped Zane in his tracks.
For the first time in days, something resembling genuine happiness broke through the fog.
He turned. And there he was.
Malik.
A Miami Hurricanes duffel bag hung from one shoulder, his travel clothes wrinkled from what had clearly been a long trip. He looked exhausted himself, but there was still that same steady confidence about him that seemed impossible to shake.
The sight of him hit Zane harder than he expected because unlike everyone else who had arrived, Malik represented something simple.
A reminder of when times were a little easier. When there was a smidge less pressure on his head all the time. When things weren’t so complicated.
A smile finally appeared on Zane's face.
"I'm sorry I called."
Malik immediately waved him off.
"Man, shut up."
His former quarterback and - for a time - nemesis crossed the distance between them and pulled Zane into a dap that turned into a brief one-armed hug.
The gesture lasted a second longer than normal.
Long enough for Zane to understand exactly why he'd come.
When Malik pulled away, he leaned in close enough that only Zane could hear him.
His eyes briefly drifted toward the collection of people standing nearby.
Then he smirked.
"Based on the people in this hallway," he murmured, "it seems like you're gonna need me more than you thought, nigga."
***
The Jones house felt smaller than Zane remembered.
The realization hit him the moment he stepped through the front door. His hand remained wrapped around the handle for a second longer than necessary as he stood frozen in the entryway, unable to force himself forward.
The familiar scent of the house lingered in the air - the faint traces of old wood, laundry detergent, and whatever meal his grandmother had cooked last before everything had changed. His eyes drifted across the living room, and immediately his mind betrayed him.
He saw Mary lying unconscious on the floor in the exact spot where he now stood. The image was so vivid that it stole the breath from his lungs. For a moment, the sounds behind him disappeared entirely. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, grief tightening around his chest like a vice. He remained there for several seconds, fighting through the memory before finally stepping aside and ushering himself forward so the others could come in.
Behind him, Malik ducked through the doorway first, followed by Johntay and Marie. None of them spoke immediately. The weight of why they were all here seemed to follow them into the house, settling over everything like a heavy blanket.
The three of them carried their bags inside and placed them at the foot of the staircase leading to the second floor while Zane headed automatically toward the kitchen. The familiar motions gave him something to focus on. He opened a cupboard, grabbed several glasses, and filled them one by one at the sink. The sound of running water became the loudest thing in the room. When he turned around, he handed a glass to each of them before leaning back against the counter himself.
An awkward silence settled over the kitchen. Nobody seemed quite sure what to say. The house felt too quiet without Mary's voice bouncing from room to room, too still without her bustling around the kitchen correcting someone or insisting they eat more food than they could reasonably handle. Everyone seemed aware of it.
The tension finally broke when Malik nudged Johntay in the shoulder with his elbow.
"Man, you should've heard this nigga on the phone," Malik said, shaking his head with a grin. "I damn near thought he was about to start crying right there."
A smile threatened to pull at Zane's mouth despite himself.
Johntay immediately burst into laughter. "Nah, I wasn't gonna clown you for it," he said, pointing toward Zane with his cup. "But calling another nigga and asking him to hop on a flight? That's crazy work."
Malik pointed dramatically at Zane as if Johntay had just proven his point.
"Exactly," he said. "I had to check twice to make sure it was really my boy calling me. Thought somebody stole his phone."
For the first time in days, Zane felt something other than dread. He shook his head and let out a tired laugh before leaning farther back against the counter.
"I clearly wasn't in my right mind," he said.
The amusement faded from his face almost as quickly as it had arrived. He looked over at Malik and his expression softened.
"Honestly, though, when my grandfather died last year, having you around was huge for me."
The room quieted again, but this time it wasn't uncomfortable.
Zane continued, speaking more thoughtfully now.
"You were pretty much the only reason I left the house half the time. I don't think you realize that. I was in a bad place. Probably would've screwed up my entire future if I'd stayed stuck in that mindset. Hell, I might've ended up at some JUCO somewhere if I never got myself together."
Johntay nodded slowly, understanding immediately what Zane was trying to say.
Malik simply took a sip of water before shrugging.
"I spent most of senior year making your life hell," he replied. "Least I could do after all that."
Johntay's eyebrows shot upward.
"Oh, there's definitely a story there."
Across the room, Marie's attention immediately shifted between the two of them. Her curiosity was obvious.
Malik and Zane exchanged a glance. It was brief, but there was an entire conversation hidden inside it. Neither of them wanted to tell that story today. The memories of their rocky beginnings felt insignificant compared to everything else happening right now.
Both simply shrugged.
Johntay groaned dramatically.
"Stingy-ass niggas."
The comment earned a genuine laugh from everyone in the room. The sound felt foreign inside the house but welcome nonetheless.
As the laughter died down, Marie rose from her seat and walked over toward Zane. She placed a gentle hand against the center of his chest and looked up at him carefully.
"I think you should probably take a shower," she said softly. "And maybe sleep for a few hours."
Before Zane could answer, Johntay perked up from across the kitchen.
"Yeah, nigga," he said immediately. "You musty at this point."
Another round of laughter followed. Zane rolled his eyes and shook his head.
"Appreciate the concern."
"Just trying to keep it real."
Despite himself, Zane nodded. Marie was right. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept properly. He couldn't remember the last time he had looked in a mirror either. Every muscle in his body felt heavy. Every thought felt dulled by exhaustion.
He set his half-finished glass behind him on the counter and grabbed a couple of bags.
"Aight," he muttered. "I'll be back down."
He headed upstairs, leaving the others in the kitchen. As soon as he disappeared around the corner, Johntay turned toward Malik.
"So how long you here for?"
Malik sighed and leaned back in his chair.
"Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?"
"I fly back in the morning."
Johntay grimaced.
"Damn."
Malik shrugged.
"The coaches only let me sneak away for a day. We've got bigger stuff coming up."
"The Playoffs?"
"Exactly."
Malik nodded.
“We getting ready for a run. We got Clemson in the ACC Championship next."
Johntay immediately sucked his teeth.
"Then y'all better smack the piss outta them boys."
Malik chuckled.
"Should be light work."
The confidence in his voice lasted all of two seconds before he shrugged again.
"Though I probably won't even see the field. I'm still third string."
Johntay nodded knowingly.
"Fair - Canes always run deep. I thought you would have lucked out with Carson Beck heading into the draft last year."
The conversation drifted from there into football talk, recruiting rumors, and speculation about the postseason. For the first time since arriving, the atmosphere in the house began to loosen. It wasn't normal - not even close - but it was closer than anything they had experienced since receiving the phone call.
Marie quietly pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat down.
For the first time since that awful walk home from the bar with Zane days earlier, she felt herself unclench.
The hospital had been overwhelming. The flight had been stressful. The uncertainty surrounding Mary's condition had settled over everyone like a storm cloud. Through it all, she had spent most of her time worrying about Zane, watching him carry the weight of the world on his shoulders while pretending he could handle it.
Now, sitting in the warm kitchen of his childhood home while hearing Johntay and Malik bicker across the room, she finally allowed herself a moment to breathe.
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Captain Canada
Topic author - Posts: 7323
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
Invictus
Rasheed definitely would have upped the blicky on him, he really don't know how to be a father.
Zane got set up by Cam if we being real, that nigga Cam a walking-talking disaster (if he still around
)