“What game?” Brennan felt his neck get hot and pants get tight. Was this really happening at the mere mention of basketball? Cliff had some damn hold on him.
“Opening night for Whitetail basketball. Probably not as popular in your area of campus. I wonder if Cliff will get any play time.”
Brennan thought of Cliff in his uniform, with his muscular arms and hairy legs on display. He was going to look so fucking hot.
“How has he been? I feel like I’ve barely seen my brother.”
I’ve seen all of him.“He’s good.”
“He’s been busy with practice. We should all hang out.” Alex loved to say that, but Brennan wondered how much of an effort he made to see Cliff.
The idea of getting to see Cliff in his natural basketball habitat appealed more to Brennan. “Are there any student tickets left?”
“Maybe.” Alex’s voice went up, suggesting it was a long shot. “The first game of the season is big. There’ll be a bunch of parties afterward. Cliff’s night is going to be lit, thank goodness. He needs some real excitement in his life.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that.”
19
CLIFF
This was it. The first game of the season. The empty arena Cliff had practiced in for weeks was now alive with throngs of spectators and the aroma of popcorn and hot dogs from the concession stand. Too bad Cliff had no appetite. He was all nerves and adrenaline in the locker room, bouncing a ball between his legs and taking deep breaths.
Here he was. College basketball. If he could crush it here, then next stop was the NBA. It all seemed possible.
His teammates had the same feelings of anticipation, but they expressed it differently. Cliff liked to be quiet and get himself mentally prepared; other players were being as loud as they could, blasting music and rapping along to hype themselves up. Dell expressed his nervous energy by talking more than usual. He was chatting with each player about anything he could think of that wasn’t the game.
In the corner of the room was Altshuler, talking softly but intensely to himself. Probably saying the same things that Cliff was thinking. He’d made comments at parties and practice about his hopes for being drafted.
“How you feeling?”
Cliff braced himself as Dell sauntered over to his cubby.
“Good.”
Dell picked up the shampoo bottle from the top shelf of Cliff’s cubby. He held it to his nose. “You like this shampoo?”
“I guess.”
“Coconut. Reminds me of the beach. Have you ever been to the beach? I don’t go to the beach that often. The Pacific is colder than you think. It’s the biggest ocean on the planet, so it takes longer to heat up.”
Cliff had to give him credit for the ability to spin shampoo into passable conversation.
“I went to Florida on vacation with my family once.”
“The Atlantic side or the Gulf of Mexico side?”
“Dell.” Cliff grabbed the shampoo bottle and put it back. He could only humor him so much. “Nervous?”
Dell shook his body out. “Me? Nervous? Pssh.” He eyed the cubby. “Can I smell your shampoo again?”
“This is just a game, like any other game we’ve played. Except there are a few more people in the stands and a few more lights on in the place.” Cliff clapped him on both shoulders and looked him in the eye. He had practice in helping teammates stay calm and focused as high school captain. Mindset was everything on game nights.
“You’re right.” Dell’s chipper facade slipped for a second. “We won’t even get much play time.”
“Then we better make each minute count.”
Coach Trainor insisted on every player getting in tonight, even if only for a minute. But that could change if this became a close game.
