“No, Will is, because he’s the driver,” Jack responded.
“You’re one to talk,” Will shot back, and we laughed. Even Jack was aware of how questionable his driving was. He rolled down the window and let in a gust of hot air. I couldn’t wait to get there, and when we finally parked, I jumped out, while Jack dragged himself out like a lazy dog—he even groaned like a dog. He clearly wished he could just stay at home, but I wasn’t going to let him bum me out.
Will had told me Jack used to spend his summers at his family’s lake house, and that there was a half-size basketball court nearby where the two of them used to shoot hoops. It was run-down now, but it had something special about it. I could tell he had been right about that when I saw the gleam in Jack’s eyes once he realized where he was.
I grabbed his wrist and pulled him around to the trunk to take out the basketball I had hidden there.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “do you want to tell me what the hell we’re up to out here?”
“You’re a smart boy,” I said. “You figure it out.” I threw the ball into his chest. He caught it with surprising dexterity and glanced around.
“Don’t tell me…”
Before he could finish the phrase, Will came from out of nowhere and jerked the ball from his hands. “Think fast,” he said, dribbling as he ran away.
“Hold these,” Jack said, handing me his glasses and chasing Will onto the court.
They laughed and shoved each other as Mike stretched his arms out lazily, standing next to me. “One thing,” he said, “I hope me coming here doesn’t imply I’m actually supposed to do exercise. Because, as you might have noticed, I’m more of a couch-beer-TV kind of guy.”
“Yeah, but you’re here now,” I told him, “so hop to it!”
I clapped him on his back and headed to the court, and Mike grunted before finally joining us.
Will and Jack were taunting each other and running around in circles. At one point, Jack managed to get the ball, turn on his heels, and shoot, and even from the far end of the court, he swished it in. My jaw dropped, but Mike and Will didn’t look especially surprised. Will caught it on the rebound and shot another two-pointer from close by.
As I stepped on the court, the ball bounced toward me and Will said, “You’re up.”
“I don’t even know what rules we’re playing!” I protested.
Sarcastically, Will responded, “Bounce the ball, throw it, try to get it in the hoop. It’s not that hard.”
“Hey!” I said, making a throw and aiming at his head.
As Mike stepped onto the court, he proposed, “Shall we play brothers versus friends?”
All of us agreed but Jack, understandably. Mike was an obvious handicap. But surprisingly, Jack didn’t put up much of a fight before warning us, “Whatever. I can stomp you guys and carry this bum, too.” He dribbled away, leaving me there with Will. I have to admit, Will was a gentleman and tried to school me as best he could. I also have to admit, despite what I thought when I got there, I was way, way out of my league.
We worked out a system: Will took care of offense and blocking Jack, who was as sticky as flypaper, and I did the dirty work: throwing elbows, shoving, stealing the ball… The one thing I’ll say for myself is that my morning runs paid off: Jack could rarely catch me, and Mike didn’t have a chance. They tried to make me stick to the rules, yelling, “You can’t run without dribbling!”
“Tell it to the ref!” I fired back.
Ten or so points in, Mike was already taking rest breaks, along with sips from a can of beer he had produced as if by magic.
“Mike!” Jack shouted every time he caught him, “we’re getting our asses beat! Stop drinking!”
“Bro, beer has electrolytes in it,” Mike responded.
I had to admit it—Jack wasn’t a clean player, but he was good. Almost impossible for Will and me to stop. We’d been at it for an hour before I blocked even one of his shots—or so I told myself, because I had the feeling he’d let me get in front of it.
At one point, he stopped, dribbling back and forth and mocking me. “You tired yet?”
“Nope.”
“You sure are breathing hard.”
“It’s your handsomeness. It takes my breath away.”
When he smirked, I tried to rob the ball from him, but he dribbled through his legs, caught it with the back hand, shot past me, and dunked. Humiliating. Will jumped up in a spiral and caught it on the way down. Before I even realized it, he’d passed the ball to me. That was the first time he’d done that, and I was nervous.
