Page 60 of Beyond The Stars

“Clearly, you don’t know how to think because if you did you’d have your ass in class and at practice. What you think gone happen if you just let everything fall to the wayside?” Luna asked, hoping he’d think about her question before spewing something crazy. He’d been unhinged lately and she hated that for him.

Listening to Luna made his head ache. Qamar was tired of everyone telling him to man up then turn around and treat him like a child. “Look, what you need, Luna?” he asked, feeling like the conversation wasn’t going anywhere.

“What I need?” Her voice rose a few octaves. “What I need is for you to not waste all that money I’ve spent for you to go to one of the top colleges with a soccer program. I need for you to pull your head out of your ass and handle your business. If you want to give it all up, don’t beat around the bush, just fuckin’ do it!”

“What you think I’m trying to do?” he yelled, startling Belinay into a cry. Immediately, he went to sooth her. Qamar rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of Luna’s words pressing down on him. His mind raced, thinking about the countless nights he’d spent on the field, the sacrifices, the dreams they both had. He knew she was right, but the pressure felt insurmountable. “Luna, it’s not that simple. Everything’s just... it’s too much right now.”

“You really so love struck over that damn girl that you’re ready to give everything up because she don’t want you?” Luna couldn’t believe the audacity of him.

She’d taken care of him, made a better life for him, and he was ready to throw everything down the drain because his heart got broken.

Luna's tone softened slightly, sensing his struggle. “I get it, Qamar. Life’s throwing you curveballs, but you gotta swing back. You’re stronger than this. And you’re not alone. We all want to see you succeed, but you gotta want it too.”

He sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and gratitude. “I hear you, Luna. I do. I just need some time to figure things out.”

“Time’s ticking, Qamar. But I believe in you. Just remember that,” Luna said, her voice filled with a blend of concern and hope.

“Thanks, sis. I’ll try to get my head straight,” he replied, feeling a small spark of determination ignite within him.

“Good. Now go take care of Belinay and get your ass to practice,” she said, her tone lightening up.

“Will do,” Qamar said, ending the call. He looked down at his sleeping daughter, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. It was time to get his life back on track, for his kids and for himself.

Qamar checked the time on his phone, knowing he promised Coach he’d come in to talk to him. No matter how in over his head he got, he never wanted to waste people’s time. It was the one thing you couldn’t get back. Yet, rolling out of bed was easier said than done.

“God, I don’t know what you got in store for me, but I’m ready,” he announced with his eyes closed and his heart vulnerable.

Once he’d done his hygiene, he got Belinay ready before dropping her off at daycare. His next stop was the student athlete center where he knew Coach was going to get in his ass. Qamar knew he deserved it and wouldn’t give much pushback when he told him off.

Qamar, tall in stature and with a scowl etched deeply on his face, trekked the halls of the athletic building with heavy steps. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing his worry about what his coach was going to say. He’d missed almost a week’s worth of practice since he’d been back in Lynn Beach. After he dropped Siasia and Noodle off, he hopped back on the jet to take his ass home, where he hid away in his mama’s house, seeking solace in familiar surroundings. Now, it was time for him to face the music.

The fluorescent lights overhead flickered slightly, casting an unforgiving glare on the polished floors. Qamar’s mind raced, replaying the moments he spent at home, the conversations with his mom, and the quiet nights where he tried to drown his thoughts in anything but soccer. He couldn’t avoid this confrontation forever. The weight of his absence bore heavily on him, not just for his team but for himself.

As he approached the coach’s office, the murmurs of his teammates practicing in the gym echoed through the corridor, a stark reminder of what he’d been missing. He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying to steady the turmoil inside him. The door loomed large and imposing, a barrier between his current state of disarray and the disciplined athlete he once was. He raised his hand, hesitating for just a second before knocking firmly. It was time to own up to his actions and find a way to get back on track.

“Qamar Moony,” Coach Daniels announced Qamar as he wasn’t familiar with his own name. “You kept your word,” he said, surprised.

“Always,” Qamar mumbled before helping himself to the empty seat at the front of Coach’s desk.

His office was a testament of teams hard work, success, and dedication. The walls were covered with framed pictures of picture-perfect moments captured at the height of the team’s success. Championship banners hung with pride, each one representing a season of the best team in the league. There had once been a time when Qamar’s eyes grew with pride when looking at the accomplishments. He even had a spot on the wall.

Coach Daniels’ wooden desk seemed larger than Qamar last remembered, and it swallowed him whole as he looked across it, trying to read Coach’s facial expressions. On the surface was a stack of paper that he glanced at and saw his name on one while Coach Daniel continued to type of the laptop that sat in front of him.

Qamar massaged the back of his head, giving his eyes time to look around the office more. The white board on wheels that Coach used to write out plays during practice was off to the side covered in diagrams, notes, Xs and Os that represented each player. The sound of Coach Daniel clearing his throat pulled Qamar’s eyes across the cherry wood desk that seemed larger than the sea.

“I take it that was your last championship with us?” He turned his head to look at the picture that showcased Qamar holding a trophy with a huge smile on his face.

Qamar shifted his weight in the chair, his fingers tapping an erratic rhythm against his thighs. His eyes darted around the room, avoiding eye contact as he swallowed hard, the sound seeming loud in the space that was both massive and too damn small. The air he’d told Siasia he sometimes struggled to breath in became diluted with self-destruction and doubt. He opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out.

“You ready to go pro. I can see it in your eyes—I’ve saw it in your eyes the first day you walked into practice.”

Finding his voice after he’d wet his lips, Qamar made eye contact with his coach. “I’m trying to do the right thing but I got two kids and my family stay on me about growing up while ordering my every step like a fuckin’ child.” Relief washed over him as the words spilled out. “I know I’m good—better than a lot of pro soccer players, all I need is to go up for the draft.”

Daniels leaned back in his leather executive office chair. The corners of his mouth lifted. “I’m going to miss you but I know you’re going to do great things. I entered you into the draft and have a buddy who wants to come check you out—Arkansas Arrows. Now, this guy runs a tight ship—likes his players to not be in the limelight. Real lowkey type of shit, if you know what I’m saying.”

Qamar’s head nodded, reading between the lines. “Thank you, Coach.”

“Don’t thank me, some fella named French called in that favor. Now, I know you’re excited to go pro, but I need you to still show up to every practice and class until further notice, Qamar,” Coach added stipulations.

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