I forced a smile onto my face and headed out. I didn’t want to catastrophize, but it was so easy for me. My thoughts rushed a mile a minute ranging from best case scenario to worst.
I hoped I could save whatever this was before I did irreparable damage.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Nola
I didn’t have time to process whatever the hell Nina just had me do during my drive to the airport. All I knew was that I filmed confessionals, new knowledge courtesy of our nights on the couch, and was just told to,be yourself.
Now I was nervous because it felt like a bad thing.
But these were my last days until training camp began. Until I met the rest of the team who was either off playing overseas, or taking much needed rest and relaxation. No one would know what they were walking into except Farrah. Everyone was probably feeding into online speculation, playing compilations of Bee and I getting into it on the court. My cocky instigating, and her outraged reactions. Everyone was probably expecting this to be a shit show.
I did my best thinking in the car—my only emotional safe space—the one place I could tune out outside noise and actually understand what was going on with me. And unfortunately, the analysis wasn’t good.
I liked Brittney Lee. More than a teammate should, more than regular friends probably should. But I also had this nagging feeling that how we performed this season would come down to the two of us. The Waves made it to the first round of playoffs last season, so the bar was already set. How embarrassing would it be if the first two draft picks tanked those chances? My chest was heavy again at the thought of underperforming in front of my mom.
So as much as I wanted to knock on Bee’s door every night, no matter how much I wanted to taste the citrus burst from her skin again, I needed to be realistic. I needed to be the cold, objective, winner I was raised to be.
I saw my sister’s golden brown skin and fluffed out curls before I pulled over to where she stood outside the airport. I rushed over to hug her, because as much as she annoyed me, there was nothing like the moments I was able to get small pieces of home wherever I was at.
“Hi Olly.” I said, muffled by her hair.
“Hi Nolly.” She looked up at me, because at least if she acted like the oldest I’d always clear her by seven inches.
“Your hair is huge, dude.”
“As soon as the airplane landed it exploded.” She rolled her eyes. “Do you want to stay here? That’ll affect how often I’m flying down.”
“Let’s see how the season goes before I make up my mind.” I took her suitcase and tossed it into the trunk. My convertible was barely made for four bodies let alone a checked bag that was practically the same weight as my sister.
“How was the flight?”
“I got to gossip with the flight attendants thanks to my minor badge and mature personality.” She smiled.
If there’s one thing about Olive, shelovedto be in grown folks’ business.
It’s been a while since I’ve had to play as my sister’s caretaker, but it was a challenge I looked forward to. I grocery shopped for the townhouse this morning and did the laundry to make sure I remade the bed with fresh sheets and towels. Olive was like a detective—even if I thought I could hide something well, she’d always find it, or point it out, or just clock it and wait it out until she could trap me into telling the truth.
I didn’t want to think about all the truths shecoulddiscover in the five days she’d be here.
On the ride home, I let her talk my ear off. She told me everything I’ve missed in the neighborhood since the holidays, how long her fake hunger strike went in protest of my mom’s new job, and showed me a picture of Flava Fav’s beestung nose from trying to eat the honeybees.
When I pulled into my parking spot, I felt rigidity seeping into my bones, my jaw tight. When we approached the apartment door, my knuckles gripped the doorknob hard.
Between my sister getting a whiff of whatever Bee and I were, I was also worried my sister would say something hurtful in defense of me. I nearly tripped over nothing as I realized I was being overprotective of both of them.
It takes me too long to realize I actually have nothing to be worried about.
Bee sat at the countertop of our kitchen island, music blasting from speakers I couldn’t see. The front half of her hair was braided and tied with yellow and orange rubber bands again, while the back of her head was loose and curly, her face made up. She hadn’t tell me she was going out, but she didn’t look like she was staying in either.
She looked up as the door swung open, her eyes immediately meeting mine before her focus zeroed in on Olive.
“Hey guys.” Bee said coolly even though there was no chill bone in her body. “Welcome to Miami, Olive. I made y’all a snack in case the airplane food was wack.”
“Thanks...” Olive stepped through the entryway and eyed the food Bee arranged on the island. She grabbed gummy bears I knew were her favorite but didn’t rip them open like I knew she wanted to.
My sister wants to look cool in front of Bee. Huh.
