Chapter 7
The next morning’s practice is surprisingly normal.
Considering my propensity for crying, something that is now immortalized on the internet forever, I’ve been trying to toughen up a bit.
Straighten my spine, grit my teeth, maybe act like Jadea or Olabisi.
Badass women who take no shit. It’s not my natural disposition, but it seems worth attempting.
That attitude works well most of the morning.
Jadea and I practice some cutting and dunking plays that have us both excited.
We don’t have a game until Thursday, two days from now, so we have a nice mid-week break.
I do have to field several calls from reporters, answering with a meek, “No comment.” I also declined two more calls from Jack and four more from my mom.
I promised Jadea we’d make up, but the idea that she was keeping more potential secrets for Jack, or at least hiding suspicions she had, makes me furious.
She might have thought she was protecting me, but what about now?
It would have been nice to know about this potential disaster ahead of time.
Jermaine calls again before I leave for practice and reassures me that lying low is still the best strategy.
Angry women are frequently ridiculed. Crying women are even worse.
Daniel has his whole film crew with him this time, and I watch them out of the corner of my eye.
Most of the filming doesn’t feature Daniel; it’s just footage for him to cut to during his on-air discussion.
I wonder what parts of practice have any merit.
What complaints will people have? Will this piece make any impact at all, or will people just see another women’s team that they find less interesting than the men’s?
Jadea must see the anger and frustration through my steel-spine facade because she tries to distract me.
We stand on the sideline, hydrating after our last scrimmage.
I did well, sinking two threes and assisting Jadea on two dunks.
Allyson, Lynn, and Olabisi cheered, and the reserves grumbled good-naturedly.
Lots of men, and some women, believe women’s basketball isn’t as fast paced or athletic.
Dunking is their number one example. Women can’t dunk, so naturally, the whole game suffers in comparison (gag me).
And while many incredible WNBA players could dunk, such as Brittany Griner, Jadea forced it into her gameplay.
She throws it in the misogynistic pundits’ faces, and everyone on the team loves it. Mostly.
Jadea’s face lights up with what promises to be a troubling idea. “I know! We should go dancing tonight! We only have film tomorrow, and then we’re on the road.” Our next game is a day game against Indiana, which is two days away. We rarely do a full practice on the same day we’re traveling.
I groan immediately, but several of my teammates perk up. Olabisi throws her hands up in the air. “Yes, thank God! It has been a drag around here recently.”
I toss her a look, and she blows me a kiss.
I roll my eyes. “I hate going out.” I look at Jadea pathetically, hoping it will work.
As someone who prefers to linger in the shadows and sip on a beer all night, clubbing has never really been my scene.
It’s difficult to fade into the background when you and your friends are all over six feet tall.
Jadea puts her hands on her hips, eyeing me sternly.
“Oh, stop pouting, Annie. You need to blow off some steam, and preferably in a place where you can’t hear yourself think.
” Allyson nods enthusiastically, high-fiving Jadea.
I’m about to open my mouth and complain that Jermaine said to “lay low” not “blow off some steam”, when she says the few magic words that usually convince me to leave my apartment. “You can get dressed up.”
I try not to let my face show any excitement, but it’s difficult.
Jadea knows just what to say. Throughout middle school and high school, I struggled to find clothes that I liked and that fit me.
I was six feet tall and not without a little curve and had bright red hair.
Just going to Target wasn’t going to cut it.
Fortunately, my mom loved vintage fashion and DIY.
We would go shopping together, hunting for that magical item that fit perfectly or just needed a little editing.
I was always attracted to the different eras of fashion, the patterns and cuts and how they changed over time.
It helped that my mom always wore whatever she wanted.
A necklace made of pearls and soda tabs.
A jean jacket with a mouth embroidered on the back. Overalls with rainbow paint splatters.
When I’m not playing basketball, I’m shopping online or in vintage stores. I can even sew and design a bit, thanks to my independent study major at Stanford that emphasized fashion design and renewable fashion business models.
I must not have a good poker face because Jadea claps and shouts, “We’re going out tonight, Arrows!”
I have to laugh at her antics and catch Daniel looking at me curiously.
He and his crew are packing up for the day.
Jadea notices too and gets a scheming expression on her face.
Ever since she caught me and Daniel talking in the locker room, she’s been obsessed with pushing us together.
If only she wanted to pull us apart. I widen my eyes at her, shaking my head.
She chooses to ignore me and calls in Daniel’s direction. The curiosity grows on his face as he walks over. He looks between Jadea and me. “What’s up?”
I refuse to speak, narrowing my eyes at Jadea.
“Well,” Jadea draws out the word, “the team is thinking of going out tonight, and we were wondering if you would like to join us. We’re going to a club called Fire Town.
” I nearly groan aloud at her choice. A club that takes itself too literally, keeping the room at a dripping-sweat 80 degrees.
It’s swanky, expensive, and sexy. The only reason we can get in is because Jadea’s ex-girlfriend manages it, and they’re on good terms.
“Fire Town?” Daniel raises a brow. “Sounds intense.”
Jadea approves of his response. “It is! They play ‘Hot in Here’ every hour.” She grins cheekily, slanting a look my way. “And I’m sure Annie would love for you to join us.”
“What? No, I wouldn’t!” Realizing they’re both looking at me as if I’m crazy, I try to reroute.
“I mean—not me, specifically. Everyone would be happy, I’m sure!
” I told Daniel I didn’t want everyone to know we’re exes, but now I’m wondering if I made a mistake.
I can hardly keep up the lie for one small conversation.
Jadea cuts off my embarrassed stuttering. She doesn’t even look at Daniel, like we’re having a private conversation. “But, Annie, you’re obsessed with Our World Through Sports. I’m sure you’d love the chance to talk with him about it. You’re practically his biggest fan.”
If looks could melt, Jadea would be a puddle on the floor. I huff a breath, glancing at Daniel apologetically. “She’s joking.” How embarrassing to be your ex’s biggest fan! If Jadea knew the context, she would realize I was just keeping tabs on him. It was the only way I knew he was alive.
He grins at me. “So, you’re not my biggest fan?” He leans closer to me, puts a hand to his heart. “I’m wounded. I told you that I was a big fan of yours, and yet you don’t return the favor?”
I think back to the locker room when he said I was still one of his favorite athletes. Athletes…but not girlfriends?
My face is hot, and every fiber of me wants to curse at Daniel for playing his part a little too well. “I do…do care, obviously…” I stumble over my words, noticing the playful twinkle in his eye.
“So, you want me to come out tonight?” He reaches out a hand, clasping mine and pulling me closer to him. I bump into his chest, our hands trapped between us. “You’ll even dance with me?”
His words break through the hypnosis of his presence.
I jerk back and narrow my eyes at the two of them.
Jadea watches the whole thing with a gleeful expression.
Daniel looks pleased too, eyes still on me.
I point my finger between them. “Did you two plan this? An elaborate scheme to get me to go out and go dancing? I don’t dance.
Clubs are hot, dark, and most people are too drunk to form a sentence.
I’d rather stay home and eat Twizzlers in bed. ”
“You guys can do that tomorrow,” Jadea says cheerfully.
Daniel chooses to ignore her, which is wise.
I’m thinking about ways to not ruin her beautiful braids and yet pull every hair out of her head.
While I’m plotting, Daniel looks at me hopefully.
“I’ve hardly seen the city, Annie. It would be nice to go out and do something. Is it really so hard to be around me?”
There it is, the challenge. Is it really so difficult to be around an ex? Obviously, it is. But no one wants to admit that, so I just sigh.
“Fine. But no dancing.”
I head to the locker room, dread swirling through me.
I should tell Jadea about Daniel and me, but I know she’ll just be hurt that I kept it a secret in the first place.
Daniel will only be here two weeks, just long enough for us to keep up our lie.
If I can stay away from him and his smile, I should be fine.
Then, our past will repeat; Daniel will disappear, and we won’t speak for at least another five years.
That’s the only way this works.
*
Hours later, Jadea and I are playing dress-up. Typically, it’s my favorite part of going out, but tonight every outfit I try on feels wrong. Even Jadea, who usually relishes the opportunity to give my clothes a review, is getting frustrated.