“Oh, for real? What kinda man am I?” I mutter.
He dodges my eyes. When he finally looks at my face, he concentrates on my wet lips.
“I’m asking you a question.”
“I’m not going there with you tonight.”
“Nah, let’s go there. I wanna hear all about the fucked up men you promised yourbest friendyou’d keep his daughter away from since you the world’s greatest motherfuckin’ friend. You ain’t no friend. You think you a friend just ‘cause you call his son once a year? You ain’t check up on Lourdes or—or offer to get help for CeCe.” I suck in a deep breath. “You ain’t even check on her when you knew she was fighting the same fight as Mom!”
“I told you I didn’t wanna go there, so you best take heed to my warning, young man.”
I bend over the toilet, laughing. “Now it’s young man? What happened to the nigga you said I’d always be? Bet all them people that worship the ground you walk on don’t know how you talk to your only son, huh? They don’t know how much you left me and Mom and it makes you fucking crazy that I love her so much. You should tell them about all the time you missed with us… an—and how at the end of it all, it was just me and her on that couch out there! Just us!”
Now, his eyes are wild and wet.
He steps forward, crossing over the towels scattered on the bathroom floor. “Listen... get yourself cleaned up, alright? I gotta get back to campus to meet with the boys before the game. I’ll send Gus back—”
“No! Answer my question. What kinda man you think I am? Huh?”
“Junior...”
“Don—don’t call me that shit. Just answer my question!”
I hate come-to moments because everything’s more intense in them. I can hear each crack in my vocal cords and see every tear on Pops’ cheeks. All of it makes me more desperate to numb it all.
“Answer me!”
“I can’t!” His voice shakes the walls of the bathroom.
It has all the pent up shit he’s held on to since he decided Houston was best for what was left of our family.
I shake my head, pulling myself up from the side of the toilet. “I hope you get the balls to tell me exactly what you think of me one day. Maybe I’ll finally understand why you favor a bunch of strangers over your own flesh and blood.”
I gurgle up a tequila-filled hiccup. “I can clean myself up. Go check on your boys.”
* * *
As soon asI stretch my legs out of Pops’ truck and walk onto the yard, the eyes are there like they’ve been ever since Planet Ace exploded. They’re behind sunglasses, books, in peripherals, and under hats. The whispers are the worst. I hear bits and pieces about me and “the freshman girl from the bookstore.” All of it makes me want to go curl up in bed with Phat.
I’d let her hover over my lips and talk shit about how dirty Earth is and how much moreelitehome was.
I can even hear her:“You see why I don’t fuck around on Earth? It’s a dirty ass place.”
She’d even call me by my new name.
“See why I like to stay home, baby?”
I grip my ball, taking long strides while looking forward. It’s the only worthwhile thing I learned off the court at UCLA in the days before Mr. Palmer told me I had to go.
“Chin up, look forward, not backward, and smile, Ason,”Mom would say every morning over FaceTime.“People can say a lot of shit about you, but they can’t ever say they saw you with a frown on your face, no matter what the circumstances were. I ain’t never been the type to believe that I raised a perfect man, but I know I raised you with some sense.”
As soon as I tug my headphones to pull them over my ears, I catch Brandy’s hazel eyes on me from her spot in front of the cafe.
She narrows them at me.
“Fuck.” I groan, focusing on the manicured bush behind her.
It’s too late though.
