Disclaimer: characters are not mine unfortunately. But thanks to ABCs Scandal and Shonda Rhimes.
I have wanted to read Fitz the football player for ages and this story has been in my head for a while. It has a slow build and will mostly be in Fitz's POV. Olitz-centric eventually.
Fitz
"Fitz, Fitz… FITZ! Where are you man?" I hear Harrison calling my name. Harrison has been my best friend since kindegarten when we raced each other in a 40 yd dash. He won, I was a sore loser and then our mum's argued over the fact my mum thought Harrison cheated and got a false start. So we bonded over our mum's falling out. We were five then and we've been inseperable ever since. After that day, our mums became friends too. Neither one backed down and they respected that. Both were young , single mothers with no husband or boyfriend in sight. They were raising young boys and had a lot in common.
Now 9 years later, I'm sat in Harrison's bedroom looking at his football trophies and remembering my mum who's no longer with us. My mum died two weeks ago of Cancer, the big C. By the time she went to see the Doctor about it, she was at stage four and terminal, I think it started in her breasts. I remember the day she told me, the bottom fell out of my world. I literally stopped breathing and I must have experienced at least the first five stages of grief in two minutes. I'm still at anger. I'll never know why she didn't go to the doctors sooner. How dumb was I not to know something was wrong with her.
Harrison came into the room dressed in a black shirt and black trousers. I can tell he's spent some extra time shinning his shoes. The sole of the shoe is about 4 millimeters thick, he's had them that long that there is an obvious ridge where his big toe is. It's amazing what you notice when you experience death for the first time. Harrison's room is about 4 metres by 7 metres, it has one single sized bed and one single sized mattress on the floor, that's my bed, lying on top of a thin coffee coloured carpet with stains all over it. I remember measuring his room one day because I was convinced mine was bigger, it wasn't, we lived in the same building and had the same rooms but I can't help my competitiveness. His walls are pink, it makes me laugh, pink walls in a boy's room but paint costs a lot so they're staying pink. His trophies are hanging on a string tied to hooks on his ceiling; he has ten including the one he got for the 40 yard dash all those years ago. There's damp on the ceiling and mould around the large window that looks out onto Castleton Avenue, West Brighton. The projects are rough but there are worse places in NYC so I consider myself lucky. Today though, I've never felt so poor.
Harrison has been waiting patiently in the doorway. He's a great friend, I know he feels uncomfortable, he doesn't do sadness, depression or any mushy stuff. I thank him for that, he keeps me from wallowing in self pity too much; I try not to cry when he's around.
"You ready to go man?", I look up at him then and nod my head. "I don't think I'll ever be ready." As I head for the doorway I walk passed my packed suitcase all my worldly possessions ready to go to my new home tonight. I have no idea where my new home is but the State managed to track down a long lost Uncle on my Father's side. My father, I hate him. He's dead too, I heard he had a heart attack whilst hosting a dinner party for his rich friends in California. He was a United States Senator and the man who got my mum pregnant 15 years ago. My mum said he didn't want anything to do with me and I believe her. She had me when she was 18 years old and managed to get a place to live in the projects here in Staten Island. This is all I've ever known. My mum worked in a hotel in the City, she was a maid and worked really hard to put food on the table and clothes on my back. Two years ago she got a second job at a bar where Harrison's mum worked. Our mum's would work alternate shifts so one of them would be home to look after me and Har'. I don't think we truly appreciated everything they did and do for us.
As I follow Harrison into the kitchen, I feel like I'm walking through sand, my body feels so heavy and I'm trying not to cry.
Auntie E , Harrison's mum, grabs me and tucks me into her side as we walk out of the apartment. Estelle moved me in with her when my mum died. She is an amazing woman and has been looking after me and making sacrifices for the last few months of my mum's life. One day I hope to repay her, somehow.
Out in the hallway I focus on the paper peeling off the honey coloured walls. Estelle locks the door and the three of us walk to the elevator. We take the elevator down 3 levels to the ground floor and the n walk through the front door and down the ramp style pathway onto the street where a car is waiting for us. Its shiny black and looks sombre like my mood. The tanned driver opens the door for us, as we climb in I notice some rosary beads hanging from the mirror upfront. They hang down and over the drivers ID, his name is Raul. Before we drive away I look back at the building I used to call home; my head rests on the glass window and for the first time in my life I pray I never have to come back to this place.
Of course, I'll miss school. Clifton High school has the best damn Football team in the state. I play Quarterback and Harrison is Running Back; we're a lethal combo for any defence. Me and Har' are going to play in college together and then the NFL. We'll be the best there ever was; it's a shame there's only one Heisman Trophy. I'll miss my friends and I'm going to miss Harrison so frickin much, it hurts to think about it. We'll have email and I made him promise to never lose touch. It's only 4 years until we'll be going to college together, I'm not sure where yet but it'll be division one for both of us.
The car slows down and reality hits with a bang. I suddenly feel sick as I see the crematorium; a wave of panic rushes over me and its suddenly hard to breathe. This is it, I'm really saying goodbye. We step out of the car, Auntie E holding my left hand and Harrison holding my right. Horrible tears are running down my face. They feel cold and foreign, it's spring and 48 F, my thin jacket is doing nothing to keep me warm. I notice a man standing to my right by the entrance, he's wearing a long black wool coat, black shoes and black slacks. He looks important. He notices me and smiles. Its a warm smile. He has a pale complexion and blonde hair. When Ester reaches the doorway she reaches a hand out to shake his. They say hello to each other and then the man opens the door for us and allows us to enter first. Harrison asks, "is that him?", I think carefully and quietly say, "yes, that's my Uncle".
