“Lord, give them your strength tonight.”
His teammates responded with Amen. Cliff could only mouth the word.
* * *
Cliff gotthree minutes of time on the court tonight, and he squeezed every second out of them. The team scored eight points while he was point guard, three of those coming from a sweet shot he made from the back left corner. Not a bad first shot for his college career. He had a great fake-out pass to Carpenter, who went in for a beautiful layup, like he was climbing invisible steps to the basket.
He loved this. The bright lights dulling the crowds, the cacophony of buzzers, whistles, and cheering. He might’ve been in a new place on a new team, but the court was his constant.
During a foul shot, Cliff looked behind the basket at the student section and found Brennan’s eyes on him. They gave him a jolt of heat. He found himself wanting to impress him, showing him that he was as skilled a player as Brennan was an artist.
Dell got to play in the second half. Altshuler got boxed in by the defense and had no choice but to pass to Dell, who sunk a sweet shot from the foul line. Cliff cheered extra loud. He stumbled back to his seat next to Cliff.
“Great job!”
“What was that shit?” Dell wiped the sheet of sweat off his face. “I was wide open over and over, but Altshuler charged through the defense for a basket. I was waving my arms like a maniac because I was open, but he still decided to drive to the basket.” Dell shook his head. Altshuler made that basket in question, but he almost missed quite a few, too.
“All he cares about are his stats and making himself look good for the draft,” Cliff said.
The night, unfortunately, belonged to Altshuler. It had no choice. He dominated the court, preferring to take shots himself rather than search for the open man. He ignored the frustrated looks of his teammates as he zipped around the court. It was a different speed than Cliff, who preferred to be a team player. The Whitetails barely eked out a victory. A win’s a win, but a game against Allegheny State should not have been this competitive.
Throughout the game, Cliff would flick his glance over to the student section to find a certain someone in the crowd. Brennan had a confused look while he watched the game, like he was always two seconds behind what was happening. Basketball moved fast. But Cliff saw him join in defense chants with the other students. Their eyes met frequently, as they did in his loft. Cliff didn’t get how everyone in the stadium wasn’t transfixed by those dark eyes and delightful smile.
After the game, Brennan texted Cliff while he was changing in the locker room.
Great game! You were like Khris Middleton out there.
Cliff smiled wide at his phone.
Middleton’s a point guard, so your text is accurate, he wrote back.
Sure...that’s why.The winking emoji was implied. Everything on this text change was drenched in innuendo.
Saw you getting into those chants. I didn’t know you were so into sports.
Cliff clutched his phone in his hand, counting down the seconds for a response, his body buzzing.
I’m a total jock.
Cliff imagined the lazy smile he wore while he texted that response.
What are you up to now?Brennan texted.
Victory party. I have to make an appearance.Teams celebrated together, and Cliff was looking forward to spending time with Dell, Carpenter, and the rest of his teammates. It would be suspect if he didn’t go.
Let me know if you want to hang out instead.
The text buzzed in his mind. He knew he should join his team. It was the right, normal, morally straight thing to do. Party. Follow the crowd. But Brennan possessed his brain. That Pandora’s Box of want that he opened consumed him.
“Hey, we’re going now.” Dell walked up to his cubby.
Cliff stood up. “I’m going to pass. My brother wanted to meet up. He’s going through some stuff.”
“Oh.” Dell’s face fell. “Is he okay?”
“Yeah. His girlfriend is studying abroad, and he really misses her.”
Another little white lie, said with the greatest of ease.
