He rolled his eyes and moved to the rack, grabbing a club. The kids followed him like he was God’s gift to Black kids. Meadow took a slow breath. Watching him move so easily among them did something she didn’t want to name.
He lined them up again. “Alright, we gon’ reset. Everybody spread out. If you close enough to hit somebody, you too close.”
They shuffled around.
“Feet shoulder width,” he continued. “Y’all know shoulders, right? Y’all be actin’ like y’all don’t know what parts of your body is till it’s time to dance on TikTok.”
The girls cracked up.
Mya followed along, sliding her feet to match his example. “Like this?”
“A little wider,” Zaire told her. “There you go. You hoop?”
“I used to,” she answered.
“I can tell. You stand like a guard.”
He moved down the line, adjusting hands, nudging elbows. No baby voices. No talking down. He treated them like real students.
Meadow watched from behind, arms folded across her chest even though her heart felt wide open. She had always loved this program. Loved seeing kids from their side of town hold clubs like they belonged here. But this moment nudged the whole thing into another lane.
“You came out here just to be nosey?” she asked once he circled back around.
He glanced at her. “Came to hit. Stayed for the dysfunction.”
She laughed. “Wow. Say you hate children without saying it.”
“I don’t hate them.” He paused. “They just loud as hell.”
Mya spun around, offended. “We right here.”
Zaire didn’t flinch. “Y’all know y’all loud.”
They all shrugged.
Meadow stepped up beside him. “Alright, listen up, cuh.” That had them cracking up and Zaire smirking. “Today we gon’ do team teaching. Y’all lucky, because Mr. Cooks here is a professional.”
Karter turned around quick. “He your husband?”
The kids erupted.
“Boyfriend?” Mya piled on.
“They definitely like each other,” DJ added, all-knowing.
Meadow choked. “Why do y’all talk so much?”
Zaire grinned. “I’m nobody’s husband,” he told them. “I’m just crashing the party.”
Mya eyed him anyway. “You kinda look like her type…or my Mama’s.”
Zaire choked on his laugh.
“Yeah, cause you don’t have a Daddy,” DJ teased, taking off running before Mya could catch him.
“Girl, swing your club,” Meadow ordered. “Too grown for me.”
The laughter simmered as they all turned back to their spots.
