Her spirit was full. Every dribble of the ball, every point added to the scoreboard; this had been the best Jahlil had played in years. It was like everything disappeared when the rock was in his hands. All she could see was him, seven years ago, dribbling the ball underneath the night sky. It’d just been the three of them running drills, shooting, or chasing Andrew around the court.
As her mind played the memories, tears pricked her eyes and Jahlil dropped six more points. She blinked them away and clapped. When the buzzer sounded for the end of the game, Jahlil had put up sixty points alone, showing the commentators who had something to say about his trade that this was going to be his most promising season yet.
“Jahlil, you had a phenomenal game, sixty points, twelve rebounds and eight assists. What a way to carry your team with Malik not here tonight,” the commentator spoke and Jahlil remained professional in his response.
“The team did what they had to do. We played really good basketball and we’re looking forward to doing it again on the road.”
“Is there anything you want to say to Malik with such an abrupt end to his time here in L.O.?”
Jahlil looked into the camera. “I pray you get better and that all the days ahead of you are ones you deserve. Stay up.”
“Thanks, Jahlil,” the commentator spoke, ending the interview.
Jahlil roamed off the court knowing that the cameras were on him and made a beeline to the sidelines to kiss Emani before heading to the locker room. “Love you.”
She hummed and bit a grin. “Love you.”
Emani turned to find the rest of their crew. Aunt Violet was giving the equipment’s manager the googly eyes, Sanaa was soaking up her fifteen minutes of fame standing in front of Carson and looking up at the ref and telling him how to do his job, meanwhile, Andrew hadn’t left Emani’s side.
The group waited in the press room through the post-game conference while everyone talked amongst themselves, Carson leaned over and muttered, “It’s like a system shock huh? When you realize you woke up in the middle of the shit you dreamed of?”
Emani nodded, trying to hold her emotions at bay. “I literally woke up.”
“I know, I can see it. You deserve for that dream to be reality. Both of you do. Just promise me that if shit gets rocky, y’all hold on to each other. It’s not just y’all floating through life anymore. Two sets of young eyes are on you. Andrew will mimic how his brother loves you because this is the only healthy example he’ll see, and baby girl will learn what and what not to accept. Y’all are in the big leagues now, win this.”
Emani leaned on him. “We will.”
“Good, I don’t want that nigga planning my death if I have to marry you my damn self,” Carson joked.
“Cool it,” Andrew grumbled. “She’s ours.”
Emani chuckled and looked back at the stage where Jahlil sat, Sanaa now in his lap and grabbing the mic.
“Are y’all finished? We have cookies to go eat,” Sanaa announced, making the press laugh. “Thank you for comin’, drive safe, suckas.”
“How you get her to stop cussing?” Carson asked.
Emani shrugged. “I just have the touch. The kids love E.”
Jahlil
A win and a house full of family and laughter was more than he asked for. At the same time, this was everything he needed. Emani, Donnée, Aunt Violet, and Sanaa were in the living room having a dance party in hopes of dancing off Sanaa’s sugar high from the game. Andrew, Ashton, and Kyrie were playing the game at the far end of the patio and Carson took a seat near Jahlil and handed him a shot.
“I know you don’t drink during the season but this news is worth celebrating,” Carson spoke lowly.
Jahlil took it, nodded in thanks and asked, “Malik dead or something?”
Carson chuckled. “More like he checked out the hospital and was picked up for sports gambling. Apparently, he has a whole lot more enemies than friends. What a way to get a nigga up out of here.”
Jahlil took the shot, winced, and swayed his head. “You think I won’t do it again?”
“Nah, I know your crazy ass will do it again. How you look in the camera and tell that man to have the days he deserves? You know that nigga’s hands are crushed.”
“I know what the fuck I did. Bet he’ll never hit shit else in his life. I got the right mind to find Tyriq and beat his ass too,” Jahlil grimaced. “Enough of that shit. My house is happy and hopping on a school night. I tell you that your niece got a little nappy headed, block head, booger eating, snotty nosed, touchy-feely, little uglass boy swinging her around at the school? And then when we got home, she jumped out the truck and skipped into the middle of the street to get another hug?”
Carson dropped back in his seat and let a loud, hearty laugh leave his body. “Nigga, I know you weren’t thinking about beating up a toddler?”
“Him and his daddy.”
