"I'm not sure how I feel, honestly. I didn't get drafted to the team because I wanted to be famous. I worked my ass off to make sure this team picked me up because I love the sport. I love playing for my home city. I do the same thing I've done since I was a kid." None of this is a lie. I’ve given so many variations of this response, it comes out of my mouth without much thought.
She leans closer to me with her microphone. As if she’s conspiring with me. “And what's that?"
"I go out there and play. I give it my everything and do the best I can to support my teammates."
"Pretty soon you'll be surpassing your teammates." She winks at me like it’s a secret. I will outperform some of the other players. But it’s not my intention to brag about it. They are still my teammates, and we’re a unit. Being a dick, on camera, isn’t going to win me any favors with Coach, or the guys.
Shaking my head, I answer, "That's not what I'm after. You can't get on that court and win a game without the other players."
Her smile widens, and I'm a little nervous about the sudden gleam in her eye. Maybe it was a bad decision to pick her to talk to out of all the reporters, but it's too late to worry about that now. "Well, I can't wait to see what you do with your career."
"Thanks, I'm excited to see what the Rattlers can do this season."
"If it's anything like what you all have done, I know you'll be headed to the Championships.” She raises an eyebrow, and I'm the only one that can see it because she is off-camera. I have a feeling I’m not going to like what comes out of her mouth next. "Maybe that pretty young lady over there will join you on your journey."
Yup, she's just like the gossip magazines. Rather than focusing on the game, she's doing all she can to pry into my life. I'm not going to give her the satisfaction of getting a peek into my personal life. That's nobody's business but my own. "Well, the Championship is what we're working toward.”
Rather than give her a chance to dig a little more, I turn my back toward her and head to the locker rooms. This is what Jordan has been trying to prepare me for. Why he's tried to be such a parent-like figure and lead me toward better choices.
Speak of the devil, he's waiting for me at the end of the hallway leading toward the locker room. "You did good out there."
"Is that what it was like when you first started playing? They did everything they can to delve into your personal life?" I’ve done plenty of after game interviews, and that’s the most personal it’s ever gotten.
"Some of them, yes. But most of the reporters want to know about the game." He nods to the one who was just talking to me, and who is still staring at me. "You have to watch out for that one, though. She likes to act like she's following your career, but all she does is stir up drama."
"How do you know that?" Not that I'm arguing. I saw the look in her eye right before she decided to ask me about Serena.
"She hasn't done anything to me personally, but some of the guys on the other teams say she's a problem."
"That's good to know. Now let's go get cleaned up and take our ladies out for a night on the town." It’s a well-deserved reward after the way we played tonight.
He slaps me on the back and chuckles. "Look at you. All serious in your relationship."
"Shut up, man." We both turn and walk down the hallway. I'm definitely going to keep my eye on this new reporter chick because I smell trouble. I’m not afraid to deal with whatever comes my way, but I don’t want Serena pulled into it.
I barely have my shirt over my head when my phone rings against the metal locker. I know it's not Serena because she's waiting with Hazel and Jordan's wife, but I have no idea who else it could be. Unless Derrick needs another pick me up, of course. I don't bother glancing at the screen when I finally answer, "Hello?" It’s probably him, calling to talk shop about the game that just ended.
"Who is this girl you were with all over TV?" Shit, I completely forgot Mom watches all the games. I didn't think about the cameras or where they would shift their attention when I wasn't doing what I normally do. I probably should have brought up Serena a long time ago. I wanted to make sure things were going to work out before I brought her into my family.
"Hi, Mom," I try to sound more cheerful than I do, but I'm pretty sure it's not working. "That was my, um, girlfriend."
I hear her gasp on the other end of the phone. Holy shit, I think I just gave my mom a heart attack. "You mean to tell me you have a girlfriend and you haven't told us about her?"
"I never told you about my other girlfriends." I use the term girlfriend loosely. I haven't had one since high school.
"Don't be smart with me," she admonishes. "I know good and well those other girls are not your girlfriend. I'm not stupid. So, who is this new girl?"
I don't like the way she says “new girl”. I know that's my own fault because I go through them so quickly, but it sounds dirty now that I'm in a relationship. "Her name is Serena. I was going to tell you about her when I came over for dinner, but surprise."
I hear snickers from behind me, and I turn to see who exactly is enjoying the show. Freaking Jordan and Ross. Of course, they are here to witness this. Because that's the luck I have. They will no doubt give me shit about this for weeks to come. Jordan knows just how well my mom is at putting me in my place and wanting to know all the details.
Gabby is in the background, and I know my mom just put it on speakerphone. "So, you finally found someone who will last more than one night?"
"Gabby," Mom chastises, "that wasn't very nice."
"Well, it's not like it's not true."
This, ladies and gentlemen, is why I don't call them all the time. And why I don’t tell them anything that’s going on until I know it’s a sure thing. I love my sister. She has been my rock, but she also knows how to press my buttons. "Actually, for your information. We have been dating for over a month?"
