ZOO
“How do you feel going into the finals?”
“Confident.”
Pen’s short answer garnered silence from the reporters. When she didn’t elaborate it was obvious that she was over it. It was the same bullshit after every game—the same dumb-ass questions. Now I understood why players wished they could skip this shit, especially after tough wins and even tougher losses. And the reporters wondered why they stayed getting cussed out or told to mind their business.
The Pelicans walked away with the series win, however, Pen’s countenance was as if they’d lost. She wasn’t feeling tonight and hadn’t been herself for the past few days. I was used to mean Pen. Snappy Pen was on deck, too, though. However, instead of finding excuses to stay from around her ass, I found every reason to be around her. Patience was something I only had for her because any other woman wouldn’t have had it so easy with me.
To say my days were filled with work in the mornings and PJ in the evenings was an understatement. She got all of my time and for no other reason than for me to be in her space. It went from me staying a couple of nights out of comforting her, to me staying the night every night since, but I wasn’t complaining.
Sleeping in her guest bedroom felt like I was sleeping on air, and the bedding smelled just like she’d wrapped herself in them and then made the bed. The first time I slept under her roof, I needed to be next to her. The conversation we had that night was needed, but I saw that she still allowed them to get in her head. Her face after winning the game, still showed her being bothered.
Per usual, I waited for her by the stairs leading to the podium. Once done giving hernon –interview, she met me at the stairs. She avoided eye contact with me as she took my hand.
“Hold ya head up,” I said, pulling her to my side. Immediately, her head snapped up as if a light bulb went off.
Back at the hotel, I ordered room service while Pen went into the bathroom. I couldn’t stand the silence between us, but she was in her head and wasn’t letting me inside. Any question I posed to her was answered in the same manner as she’d dealt with the reporters.
“What you wanna eat?” I asked when we made into the suite.
“Doesn’t matter,” she mumbled.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, Zoo,” she uttered and disappeared into the bathroom.
Damn near an hour later, she came out of the bathroom. The food had been delivered fifteen minutes ago and was sitting on the coffee table getting cold.
“Feel better?” I asked once she sat beside me on the sofa.
Sighing, she hunched her shoulders.
“You gon’ tell me what the issue is… Or you just gon’ keep actin’ like I don’t exist?”
Picking up her food, she started to eat without praying or acknowledging my questions.
“Pen?”
“Just drop it, Zoo. I’m good,” she lied.
A few minutes ticked by before I picked up my food, prayed, and dug in.
The backdrop was the sound of the television. Of course, it was on the sports network because it was the first thing Pen put it on when we first came into the suite. They’d gone through several other sports stories before getting to the Pelican’s semi-finals series win over LA.
Without so much as glancing at the television, Pen listened to the analysts talk their shit. While two of the analysts talked with clear sense, the other one seemed to have an issue with Pen.
“She needs to distribute the ball more if she plans to out beat a team like Chicago. There’s no way the Pelicans are going to win a championship with the lackluster defense that was played tonight. This game was really anyone’s if you look at the stats. London has toreallydo a better job at running this team. I hate to say it because no one wants to be compared to another basketball player, let alone her sister, but London has to step up.”
“She scored thirty-two points tonight!” another analyst insisted with a guffaw. “And bagged eleven rebounds. She’s on track to break a double-double record this year! How is that not stepping up to the plate?” he defended.
“I agree,” his counterpart added.
“I don’t know,” the naysayer continued. “Chicago is a beast. Gotta have more than a double-double night to get past them.”
Pen’s sigh was audible as I turned the television down.
“Zoo, we’re friends, right?” she asked seconds later, already knowing the answer to her own question.
