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, she loved to 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 she could discover 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.
“What’d you get me?” I butted in.
“Nothing except the gracious gift of me not watching the latest episode without you.” Bee rolled her eyes, but I knew how much restraint that took. If it was up to her, we’d be home every night at the same time to watch her shows and not rely on streaming to catch up.
“You got plans?” I asked in the most normal tone I could muster.
“I didn’t want to crash you and Olive’s first night, so I’m going out with Farrah.
Oh! That reminds me. Olive, this is for you.
” As Bee stood up she revealed long denim shorts and a cropped tee that barely hit her ribs.
Her body glowed in the light like she put extra care in her appearance.
Like she wanted to be perceived. By other people.
She’s going out.
“Woah, I love your outfit,” My sister complimented, and I shook my head twice to make sure I heard that right.
“Thanks! It gets the job done.”
If the job is getting attention, check.
If the job is making me wonder who will be in her ear all night, double check.
If the job is having me sleep on the couch tonight so I can see if she brings anyone home, triple check.
“But this is a guest gift. Even though you’re not a guest, you’re family, but you’re still our first guest,” she finished, and I watched her face brighten then dim. She didn’t want to come on hard, but she was still showing Olive that she cared.
Bee handed over a lilac apron with Olive embroidered on the right side of the chest. No one else would notice, but I knew Bee hid her triumphant smile behind closed lips.
She didn’t even wait for Olive to react, immediately going back to her computer and pretending to be busy with other things.
She wasn’t ignoring my sister, but, rather, giving her space to warm up.
From Olive’s silence, the shy cat strategy was working.
“When I was in high school, we had a list of classes we could choose from and I chose baking, mostly because my older sister did it, and I was so jealous of the aprons they got to pick out. I don’t know if your new school offers it, but if not, you can wear it at home.
If you like it, of course. If you hate it, you can burn it right now and I wouldn’t mind,” Bee rambled.
“Please don’t do that.” I shook my head.
Our eyes met over my silent sister’s head as her fingers traced the white lettering and the lace on the edge of the apron.
It was so her, and Bee didn’t know her at all.
I mouthed thank you and she smiled a small, tiny version of her usual beaming.
I should look away, go back to watching Olive react, but just for a few more seconds I wanted it to feel like it was just us.
I wanted to run my finger through one of her curls, my fingertip looping around until I reached the bottom.
I wanted to say something that’d make her smile bigger.
“This is really sweet,” Olive said gingerly. “I surprisingly don’t have my own apron. So that’s one thing you’ve definitely beat my sister at.”
“That’s the only thing she can beat me in,” I interjected.
“Yeah right.” Bee shook her head, “But since your sister is here…sure. Let’s go with that.”
“Nolly, am I putting your stuff in your room?”
“Yup, door’s open. But let me help.”
“I’m an only child. I got it.”
“Not an only child.” I rolled my eyes to my sister’s back.
“Oh, she’s fun.” Bee didn’t speak until Olive was out of sight. I walked toward her spot at the counter.
“A joy and a pleasure, she is. Thank you for the gift. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I think you forget I’m an older sister too, Nola. I know how to play the game.”
“And what game are you playing tonight?” I dropped my voice, my fingers reaching for the belt loop in her denim shorts. It was the closest I’d allow myself to touch her. We’d been good at that, distance and space. But I missed her at all times, even when we were in the same room.
Bee shrugged, her mouth scrunched like she wanted to laugh or spill her guts. “I’m not playing any games.”
I pulled her belt loop closer to me, dragging Bee, still in the barstool, across the smooth wood. I watched a small gasp leave her shocked mouth before she closed it.
“Want to try that again? I thought you liked to be honest?”
“I-I am.” She swallowed.
My finger left her shorts and danced up her toned abdomen she was showing off. I couldn’t stop teasing her; I didn’t want to, either. So much for not touching each other.
“You look beautiful, Brittney. So you, so playful. You’re telling me you and Farrah aren’t going to flirt with anyone tonight? Get a number or two?”
“And what if I did?” Defiance reached her eyes now, her legs opening wider to let me in whether she realized it or not.. She wanted to fight. Good.
“I think I’d have to show your new friend, whoever they are, how you liked to be kissed. Or maybe how you like your nipples pla—” Bee slapped a head over my mouth. I smiled behind it.
“Do not finish that sentence, roommate.”
I want to kiss you again, roommate.
It was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t say it.
Not with Olive here, and not when it looked like Brittney was barely keeping her self-restraint together too.
This felt like torture. This daily existence we shared—this love for the game neither of us were willing to put in jeopardy.
—all hinged on us keeping our hands away from each other. Working hard and not playing hard.
And for the first time ever, I wanted to live more life for more than just the sport. I wanted to see what life was beyond it.