PROLOGUE
OSU Circa Seven years ago
Junior Year
“This nigga is goingto take his big ass to the league and forget all of us,” Ashton spoke, perched from the arm on of the worn-out couch. That faded orange couch they picked up off a corner in Volts Park had seen the entire group through three years. All of their highs and lows. That was the couch where Jahlil first kissed Emani. Where he listened to her tell him her secrets. Where he found her holding Andrew in her arms, books scattered about the floor. It was the evidence of her sacrifice because she saw his dream and held it as close to her chest as she could.
It was the orange couch where Emani was sitting with her knees pulled to her chest, a pleasant smile on her face and the worry she felt hidden deep in her eyes. He knew she was a ball of anxiousness because he felt it too. Three years ago, going into the NBA draft was a wild dream. Now it was a saving grace. At seventeen, Jahlil had become his brother’s guardian with two options – running the streets until he landed in jail or take what he thought to be a bullshit offer from an assistant travel league coach.
He'd never forget the day – a pick-up game turned house jacking. Unsure of how to feed a three year old, no secure place to lay his head or his brother’s, Jahlil turned to what he knew. What he’d always know – hustle. The Azul Hearts would pay kids with the raw talent like his to play pick-up games in the park. It was easy money, after all, he’d been doing it since his mother’s mental state proved she couldn’t take care of herself let alone the two children she had. Ball equaled food, covering rent, and affording clothes at the Bargain Bin.
It was simple until it wasn’t. Until the options on the table presented themselves to vultures. There was one thing Jahlil knew – Andrew was all he had and all Andrew had was him. For that, becoming an Azul Heart and/or going to prison and leaving his brother to the vultures wasn’t an option.
So as he towered slightly above the middle-aged man with the thinning hair, he weighed his options. The bullshit offer was looking more and more possible as his stomach twisted with the possibilities illuminating his background with blue and red lights. A partial scholarship to Oceania State University. Coach would train him, cover an apartment near campus and help him locate someone from his mother’s side of the family. That was all Jahlil needed, he would be able to figure the rest out.
And he did. Freshmen orientation, he stepped into the Rebel’s auditorium with an active three year old hanging off of his arm and a chest full of nervousness. It wasn’t until Andrew leapt off of him and into the arms of an unsuspecting girl with the same scared look in her eyes. Everything else about her screamed confidence as if she were fighting the world alone and had won one battle after another.
When she caught him, a smile broke her uncertainty and then she looked up at Jahlil. The warmth of that moment cracked everything he was cemented in. Emani didn’t just come into his world with support but with that same fight she had in her own life. Emani was the strength, light and softness Jahlil didn’t know he was missing. The last three years, he’d only made it because of her and the group of friends she came with. It was only in the last year that Coach found his aunt. Aunt Violet, a vibrant middle-aged woman with purple hair and sass to outwit the best of them. She came in with love too. Remorse mainly for allowing her sister to spiral in such a way that left her nephews baring the brunt.
He continued eyeballing that orange couch with Emani rooted there. As if she couldn’t make herself move.
“He’s not going to forget where he came from,” Carson stated. “I’m not letting him. Nigga get to the league and start acting new, we’re going to have to fight right there.”
Kyrie laughed. “You got to get past E first.” He nudged her, attempting to pull her out of her head.
Emani’s pleasant smile widened just a bit, before she sighed. “I’m going to leave that to y’all.”
Donnée, Emani’s cousin, sat next to Jahlil and tapped him. “Go talk to her.”
Jahlil’s eyes trailed Emani as she finally untucked herself and moved out of the apartment. Andrew was with Aunt Violet and the crew was supposed to be packing up. But that orange couch was holding them all hostage.
“I’ve tried,” Jahlil muttered, causing Ashton to speak up.
“You didn’t try shit,” Ashton blew. “You accepted that fake ass happiness.”
Carson quickly corrected Ashton, seeing the scowl on Jahlil’s face. “It’s not that she’s not happy. I think she’s happier than all of us combined. You been her nigga for three years and…you’re just not anymore.”
“I told her I was coming for her,” Jahlil protested, standing to his feet. “Let me talk to her.”
“You should’ve been doing that,” Ashton grumbled, swinging his legs as Jahlil trailed Emani out of the apartment.
He spotted her on the far end of the walk way, arms folded, leaning over the rail, staring at nothing. But there were tears. Getting close enough to her, he reached out and turned her to face him.
“Hey, don’t do that,” he muttered.
Emani didn’t look up at him. For her, it hurt too bad.
“I told you, I was coming back for you,” he urged. “Just let me get settled and-”
“I got a deal,” she spoke, just above a whisper. She’d been holding that. The noise from his draft announcement outweighed hers. So she kept it, sat with it and let the reality set in. This was the end of them.
Jahlil’s brows fused both with excitement and slight irritation. “What?”
She pulled out of his hold. “I got a deal. It’s a big thing. I’m heading out there in two weeks. So us ending this-”
“We paused this,” Jahlil corrected.
Emani bitterly huffed and looked up at him finally. “We should be real about this. The course has been ran. You’re going to get to the league and do amazing things. You’re not going to have time for me. And I’m okay with that. I have my own thing going on now too… I just didn’t expect this moment to hurt so damn bad.”
