Chapter 33 Javonte
“I’m telling you right now,” CJ says, stretching across the bench after doing the least amount of work possible. “This season is about to be it.”
Tank wipes his face with a towel and grunts. “It better be. I’m tired of getting clowned on the internet by people who can’t make a layup.”
“They’re not clowning me,” CJ says.
Jalen snorts. “They definitely clowning you.”
“For what?”
“For all them turnovers,” Tank says.
CJ sits up fast. “You’re always trying to make me the problem.”
“You had seven turnovers in one game,” I tell him.
“Why do you only y’all remember numbers when they’re negative?”
“Because they hurt us,” Jalen says.
I laugh and take a long drink of water. We’re all hanging around after training, talking about the season, talking trash, trying to act like none of us are already thinking about how badly we need to come back better.
Last year was ugly. Not all ugly, but enough that I don’t want to feel that again.
Drummond has been on everybody about locking in. Team workouts. Family stuff. Chemistry. Morale. He’s on his “we are not just a franchise, we are a unit” mess again, and unfortunately for all of us, it might be working.
Tank tosses his towel over his shoulder and looks at me. “You seem better.”
“I am better.”
“Lily got him smiling again,” CJ says. “We might make the playoffs.”
I turn to him. “We’re making the playoffs because I’m good at basketball.”
“You were good at basketball last year too,” Tank says. “You were also sad as hell.”
Jalen points at him. “That part.”
“I wasn’t sad as hell.”
They all look at me.
I roll my eyes. “Fine. I wasn’t at my best.”
“You were walking around looking like somebody stole your dog and your jump shot,” CJ says.
“You don’t even know what heartbreak is,” I tell him. “You think heartbreak is a woman leaving your message on read for twenty minutes.”
“That’s violent behavior.”
Tank shakes his head. “See, this is why nobody takes you seriously.”
“I take me seriously,” CJ says. “And the ladies take me very seriously.”
“Nobody wants to hear about your DMs,” Jalen says.
“I do,” CJ tells him. “I want to hear about them all the time.”
I shake my head. “Y’all are exhausting.”
“But you’re happy,” Jalen says, watching me. “So it’s whatever. You and Lily good?”
I can’t stop the smile before it shows up. “Yeah. We’re good.”
CJ sits forward. “Good good?”
I stare at him.
He grins. “That means yes.”
“That means mind your business.”
Tank laughs. “He’s back.”
I am. That’s the thing. I feel like myself again. Steady. Back where I’m supposed to be.
Lily and I went to the Bahamas, and everything shifted into place. We laughed. We rested. She painted with the ocean in front of her. She was happy and open in a way I hadn’t seen in too long.
Then we came home, and that job started pulling the light out of her again.
I hate it.
“She got this promotion,” I say, setting my water down. “Employee relations manager or something. More money, better title, but she doesn’t want it.”
“Then why’d she take it?” Tank asks.
“She didn’t really get offered. They just told her.”
Jalen frowns. “That sounds about right for corporate.”
“She hates that job,” I say. “She’s good at it, but she hates it. Lit with Lily is what she wants to do. That’s where she comes alive.”
CJ leans back. “So what are you gonna do? Buy her freedom?”
I look at him.
His grin drops. “Wait. Are you?”
“Not exactly.”
Jalen narrows his eyes. “What does ‘not exactly’ mean?”
I sit forward, elbows on my knees. “I found her a studio.”
The words come out with pride. I can’t help it. I’ve been sitting on this for days, waiting for everything to be ready.
The place was dusty and rough when I first saw it, but now the floors are done and the walls are fixed. The storage room is cleared out, and the back patio is ready for her paint water thing.
I left the rest for her. The feel of it. The walls. Whatever would make it hers instead of something I finished and handed over.
Tank blinks. “A studio?”
“Yeah. For Lit with Lily. Classes, storage, supplies, everything. She won’t have to keep hauling tables in and out of venues. She won’t have to stack paint in her garage. She can have a real home base.”
CJ whistles. “That’s big.”
“It is,” I say.
Jalen watches me, not smiling. “She asked for that?”
The smile leaves my face. “Why does everybody keep asking me that?”
“Who else asked you?” Tank asks.
“Zea.”
Tank laughs. “Little sister got sense.”
“She’s sixteen.”
“So?” Jalen says. “She asked a good question.”
“It’s a good thing,” I say. “Why are you acting like I bought her a haunted house.”
CJ shrugs. “I mean, if the ghost casa had good lighting and storage, maybe.”
I ignore him.
Jalen leans forward. “I’m not saying it’s bad. I’m asking if it’s hers.”
“It is hers.”
“But did she ask for it?” Jalen studies me.
I blow out a breath. “She wants Lit with Lily to grow. She hates her job. She’s tired. She needs space. I didn’t pull this out of nowhere. I’ve been paying attention.”
Jalen nods slowly. “I believe that.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“The problem is, paying attention and asking are not the same thing.”
Everybody wants to be deep now. Terrible timing.
Tank lifts both hands. “I’m not getting in this. I bought Joy a car one time and she cursed me out because it was the wrong color.”
CJ frowns. “You bought a woman a car and she complained?”
Tank points at him. “That’s why you’re single.”
“I’m single because I’m desired.” CJ waves his hand on front of him, like he’s the gift.
“You’re single because you don’t listen,” Jalen says.
CJ opens his mouth, then closes it. “That one hurt.”
I stand and grab my bag. “I hear y’all. I do. But once she sees it, she’s going to understand. I left the creative parts for her. I didn’t make it mine.”
Jalen looks at me for a long second. “All right.”
“What?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing.”
“No, say it.”
Jalen looks me dead in my eyes. “I hope you’re right.”
That’s not what I want to hear, so I don’t respond. I dap them up and leave before they can put any more doubt in my head.
Because I am right.
I know I am.
Lily is going to love it.
y the time I get to the studio, everything is ready.
I pull up and sit in my car for a second, looking at the front windows. The sign still isn’t up. I wanted her to choose that. I left the walls plain too, even though part of me kept imagining her color everywhere.
Inside, the front room has room for easels, tables, whatever she wants. The shelves are empty. The back room is cleared out. On the patio, there’s a covered corner set up for her paint water.
It feels like I made space for her without taking over.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
My phone buzzes.
Lily: I’m here.
I look up and see her pulling into the lot. My heart starts beating faster. She steps out wearing wide-leg pants and a fitted top, her curls loose around her face. She smiles when she sees me, and for a second, I forget to move.
“Hey,” she says, walking up.
“Hey.” I kiss her cheek, then step back because if I touch her too long, I’m going to give everything away before I even open the door.
She looks around. “Where are we?”
“You’ll see.”
Her eyes narrow. “Javonte.”
“What?”
“You have a tone.”
“I have many tones.”
“You have a surprise tone.”
I grin and reach for her hand. “Come on.”
She lets me lead her to the door. I unlock it and push it open, stepping aside so she can walk in first.
For a second, she doesn’t move.
Then she steps inside.
The room is bright when we walk in, sunlight spread across the new floors and clean walls. I watch her face, waiting for the moment it clicks.
She walks a few steps in.
“What is this?” she asks.
I smile. “It’s yours.”
She turns to me.
I keep going. I’ve rehearsed this in my head too many times to stop now.
“It can be. I mean, it is. I got it set up for Lit with Lily. The front room can hold classes. You can put tables here. You have those shelves over there. There’s a storage room in the back, and I had them clean up the patio too.
For your paint water. You can make an evaporation station out there. ”
Her smile appears, but something about it is wrong.
“Oh,” she says. “Wow.”
I laugh because I think she’s overwhelmed. “Right? I didn’t decorate or anything. I left all that up to you. I know better than to pick colors for an artist.”
She nods fast. “Wow.”
That word again.
She walks toward the shelves but doesn’t touch them. She checks the back room, glances out at the patio, then studies the walls like she’s trying to figure out what I expect her to say.
The smile stays on her face, but it doesn’t feel like the one I was waiting for.
My chest starts to tighten.
“You don’t like it?”
Her head snaps toward me. “No, it’s not that. It’s beautiful. It’s a lot.”
“It’s supposed to make things easier.”
She nods again. “Yeah.”
“I know you’re tired. And you hate your job. And Lit with Lily is what you actually want to do. So I figured this gives you a place to build from. No more hauling everything all over the place. No more relying on other venues. You can make this exactly what you want.”
She presses her lips together.
“What?” I ask.
She looks down at the floor, then back up at me. “You leased this?”
“Yeah.”
“For how long?”
I pause. “A year.”
Her smile freezes.
“It made the most sense,” I say quickly. “Month to month was available, but the rate was crazy. A year gave better terms, and if you love it, we can talk about buying later.”
“We?”
The word is quiet, but it hits hard.
I shift. “I mean, you. I just meant we could talk through it.”
“Is it in your name?”
“Yes, but that’s only because I wanted to get it secured before somebody else took it. We can figure out the business stuff later.”
Her eyes move around the room again.
The silence gets loud.
I take a step closer. “Lily, I thought this would make you happy.”
“I know.”
That’s all she says.
She turns toward the door. “I need to go.”
My stomach drops. “Wait. What?”
“I need to go.”
“Lily, talk to me.”
“I can’t right now.”
“Did I do something wrong?”
She stops with her hand on the doorframe, her back to me. For a second, I think she’s going to turn around and tell me. She’s going to explain it, and I’ll fix whatever part I missed, but she doesn’t. She just shakes her head.
“I can’t do this right now.”
Then she walks out.
I follow her to the door, but I don’t block her or try to make her stay. I just stand there and watch her get in her car.
That too-wide smile is gone now, and I don’t feel better seeing her real expression.
“Lily,” I call out.
She closes her door.
I call her before she even pulls out of the parking lot.
No answer.
I send a text.
Me: Talk to me. Please.
She drives away.
I stand in the doorway of the studio, phone in my hand, staring at the room I thought I got right.
Turns out, I changed something.
Just not the way I wanted to.