“Alright!” I cut him off. “Alright. Fine. I think… I can spare aninchof my breath to add to the already overwhelming size of your ego.”
“That’s all I ask.”
He picks up his duffle and slings it across his shoulder. “Frankie?”
“Whaatttt?” I groan.“What else do you want from me, Jabari?”
He pauses as he picks his words carefully.
“Nothing, I just— I— Thank you.” He didn’t say what for. “I’ll see you when I get back. Keep an eye on the place for me?”
I caress the key on my lanyard for reference. “No problem. Good luck, big man. Give ‘em hell.”
A whistle blows.Timeout.
My mum laughs. “The striker dere pon the floor more than the damn ball.”
On screen, Salvatore Moretti stands chest to chest with Jabari, shouting. Even through the TV, I can see Jabari smile. The one that means he’s about to be unbearable.
Za nudges me again, this time harder. “Look at him running his mouth.”
“I see it,” I say, too quickly.
The weird part of us all being friends is that I’m now included in on her family’s banter. No one walks on eggshells when it comes to me and Jabari anymore. It almost makes me think maybe they would be accepting… if we decide to say what’s going on between us.
Well, first I’d have tonamewhat’s going on between us.
The match resumes.
Moretti scores.
The Italian crowd explodes.
My heart drops straight into my stomach.
Za curses under her breath, her dad slaps his knee and Mrs. McKingsley shakes her head displeased.
“That’s alright,” my mum says calmly. “Pressure makes men.”
I watch Jabari wipe his face, look down at his kit, then walk off. I swallow because I know that look on Jabari’s face and I know what it means when he leaves the pitch like that.
Mrs. McKingsley groans. “Why’s he coming off?”
“He hates being dirty.” Za and I answer in unison.
“That’s just ridiculous,” my mum mutters.
Za laughs. “He’s such a diva.”
He comes back a moment later and takes the ball the moment play resumes.
The final minutes blur together but towards the end, as Amin controls the midfield, Jabari passes the final shot to Sol and he scores.
Za gasps. “Did he just?—”
“Yes,” her mum says confused. “He did.”
The whistle blows.
