Coach’s hearing was always eerily accurate.He could decipher a muttered comment from across the gym.
“This what you want?”I ask him.“Team of my dreams is calling, and I’m busy bringing you takeout.”
Coach is silent, the only sound the machines beeping softly.
“I mean it.You’re not here to stop me, I might do something I regret.”I nudge his calf with my toe and nod at his dinner, still wrapped.“Not usually a two burger guy, but that could change today.”
In college during Final Four, Coach was coaching another team, and he saw I was fucked up.He told me to get in his car, and I did.We stopped for fast food, and I told him about my broken heart.
We kept in touch.He checked in on me over the years.
Let me lean on him more than once.
I cut him down because I was self-centered and impatient.
You can lean on me, I want to say.Just wake the fuck up.
I think about the time back in preseason when we were supposed to sing the team song and I refused.
I look around, seeing the lights click off on the floor as the staff prepare for the overnight shift.At the station across the hall, one of the nurses is humming under her breath.
“You want me to do it?Fine.I’ll do it.But you tell Jay about this, I’ll end you.”
I lower my voice and sing.
22
NOVA
“This is either the best idea ever or the worst,” I whisper as Brooke and I creep down the hallway of the hotel.The cardboard cutout is clutched between us, the head under her armpit while I grab the feet.
“It’s a tradition,” Brooke replies.
“How can it be a tradition?I thought this was Miles’ first time?”
I’ve learned there are a few ways to get an invitation to all-star weekend: as a player for the main game, as part of the skills night—like the dunk competition—or as part of the rookie game.
Earlier tonight were the skills competitions.The dunks were pretty spectacular, but we were there to cheer for the three-point competitors.
Especially Miles, who lit up the scoreboard to win with a near-perfect score.
We’re almost to 1475, the room number Brooke told me in the stairwell as we prepped for this.
“What are you ladies doing with Michael?”
I look up, full of guilt, to see Jayden standing sternly over us.
“What do you think?”Brooke replies.
Jay pulls out his phone.“We gotta hurry.He’s on his way back.”He looks up and down the hall.“Let’s go.”
They exchange a grin that looks eerily similar.Brooke produces a key card she swipes at the door.
“I’m not asking how you got that,” Jay muses.
“Better not.”
“I thought all-star weekend was about, I dunno, basketball,” I say.
