18. Trevor
The pang in my head is too intense to bear, and it leaves me with a parched feeling in my throat. I realize after sitting up on my bed that the constant ringing in my ears is my alarm.
Shoot! I’m late for my game.
I scramble out of bed and head for my shower quickly. Jace is in the living room when I head out, and he looks at me briefly before shaking his head. It’s only been two weeks since Gracie has been away, and my life is a mess.
“You okay, man?” he asks. “Sure you can make it for the game in time?”
“I need to make it,” I answer, heading for the door. The only thing that keeps me sane since Gracie left is the game. On the court, I can forget all my worries and indulge in the rush of the game that exceeds every other feeling.
I have to meet with the rest of the team in about thirty minutes, and we’ll have a little practice pump before the main game tonight. It’s not a major practice, but it’s a way for our coach to hype us up for the big night.
“I’ll come watch you tonight,” he says. “It’s the first round of the NBA playoffs. The whole world is watching and you need me rooting for you in the crowd, don’t you think?”
Jace’s enthusiasm should cheer me up, but nothing seems to do the trick these days. I offer him a tiny smile, then open the front door and pause halfway.
“Do you think Gracie will be watching tonight?” I ask while hovering around the doorway. The delicate dance of my nerves heightens after I ask, and I realize I’m holding my breath as Jace turns to look at me again. “I just…It’s not a big deal if she’s not. I know she’s busy and all…”
“Gracie has never missed any one of your games, Trev,” Jace answers. “She’s a diehard fan. If you didn’t know that, then you don’t know Gracie.”
A flutter of hope rises inside me. “Oh,” I gasp as the heat inches towards my cheeks and leaves me with a flush. “See you tonight.”
Our game against the Chicago Bulls today is in Midtown Manhattan’s Madison Square, a few minutes drive from our training center.
That afternoon, during the final pace training, Billy walks over to me and extends a hand for a casual shake.
“Hey,” he greets me after we bump shoulders, and he removes the band over his forehead. “How’s Gracie? Is she gonna be around tonight?”
My relationship with Billy isn’t fully mended after what he did, and there’s no way I can trust him with anything again after that.
“No,” I answer him with a light shrug. “But she’s definitely gonna be watching.”
“Cool,” he whispers, then nods.
Knowing Gracie will be watching the game tonight leaves me with a tingle in the pit of my stomach. I can’t explain it, but finding out she has watched me all these years makes me happy.
Nothing else will matter but the two of us.I keep thinking about those words Gracie said to me that night in my kitchen. Can I trust these feelings? I’ve lived with the conviction that I’ll never let love weaken me like it did to my mother. Or let it change me like it did to my father. But the days rolling by without Gracie are bleak, and I hate it.
I’ve never been more certain about anything than I am at this moment.
Coach blows his whistle and pulls me out of my thoughts right then.
“Gather around, guys,” he calls, and we all jog towards him in the training court for a brief meeting. Tonights game against the Chicago Bulls marks the start of the playoffs and Im hopeful for a championship this year.
***
Hours later, the arena pulsates with the rhythmic bounce of basketball and the electrifying hum of anticipation that has everyone on hold. My sneakers squeak against the polished court floors with each step I take toward the net.
Tension hangs in the air like a heavy mist as the game unfolds. It’s the forty-eighth minute of the game and my team leads Chicago Bulls with a whopping six points already.
Our opponents mimic my every move like zombies, clamoring to get the ball out of my hands as I aim for the net with my famous slam dunk move. My feet leave the ground with a high jump, and a hushed murmur swallows the court. I don’t hear anything else but the thud of my own pulse losing rhythm and the distant echoes of their screams as I’m suspended mid-air.
Once I land the shot in the net, the crowd explodes in a chaotic clang of applause and cheers for the last scored point that marks the end of the game.
The commentator, too, rambles on with excitement, and my teammates run toward me to celebrate with shouts and cheers of excitement.
A second later, they lift me in the air and chant our victory song while marching in a circle. The joyous moment lasts for a while and as the rush of adrenaline pulsing through me starts fading, I realize I’m scouting the faces in the arena’s audience for one person.
Gracie.I can’t think of anyone else I want to run to and celebrate with right now. Her brilliant smile would be perfect in this moment, and my world slows.
“Hawkins! Hawkins!” the crowd starts to cheer, and the commentator rushes towards me with a mic.
“As the man of the game, what do you have to say after such an amazing game tonight, Hawkins?” He focuses the mic at me and I’m well aware of the expectant viewers all waiting for me to say something that will trend in the media for days.
“I’m grateful,” I say after finding my voice again. I lick my lips, then burst into a light chuckle. “To my wife…I am grateful to my wife and deeply sorry for my behavior. She’s stood by me through it all, and I’ve been such a fool not to realize how much I love her.”
“Wow,” the man comments and starts unloading another question, but I don’t hear a thing he says as I back away from him and head towards the court’s exit.
There’s no celebration for me tonight. Not until I’m right where I know I need to be. With Gracie.