Chapter 2
Isat in the locker room, head down and spirit so jacked up that I could barely find a single encouraging word for my teammates. It wasn’t that as captain I was required to boost morale. It just always felt right to me, as a leader, but I had so much on my mind, and this? Us not even making it into the playoffs? This was especially fucked up.
Finally, I cleared my voice and lifted my head to see a group of defeated brown faces, plus Robin Stick’s, with their eyes glued to me.
“Um,” I began, “I’m not going to insult y’all’s intelligence by saying this wasn’t a bad night or that you shouldn’t be messed up about us not racking up enough points this season to make the playoffs. I know we’re all thinking the same thing, that this was supposed to be our year to at least move closer to capturing the Cup. It’s fucked up, but so are the circumstances. Ford’s been out with an injury. Morehead has done a great job in his place, but Ford’s chirping is part of our magic. We lost momentum when he got hurt because we’re more than just a team. We’re a family.
“But…it ain’t over, Sires. We got next year. We are a good team, the best in the league, if you ask me. All we gotta do is put in the work and the Cup will be ours!”
Shouted voices filled our locker room as my teammates dapped each other up and declared their agreement with my statements. All of them approached me, giving me dap and pats on the back as they filed out of the room for press or to leave the arena. After I’d completed my turn in the press room, diplomatically answering painful questions, I ducked out, too, soon finding myself sitting in my QX80 staring out the windshield at nothing. Home was lonely, but so was everywhere else.
A thud against the driver’s side window made me jerk my head around. Closing my eyes, I sighed and pressed the button to lower the window. “Ford! The fuck?! I ain’t know who was beating on my window!”
Ford smirked. “You scared? Good. That’s what you get for making me hobble out here to find you. I went to the locker room, and you were gone.”
I frowned. “Wait, what you doing here?”
“I was watching the game, nigga. Why else would I be here?”
“Why you ain’t sit on the bench with us, then? Nobody knew you were here!”
He shrugged. “I didn’t want the attention. Watched from one of the suites. Besides, Jones knew I was here. Y’all did good.”
“Stop lying. We looked fucked up, and why the hell didn’t Jones tell me you were here?”
“You ain’t exactly been talking to him or me. I had to come all the way out to the parking lot just to see if you were still as ugly and country as I remembered. Yep, still ugly. Say ‘boil’ so I can see if you’re still country, too. If you don’t say ‘burl’, I’ma know something.”
“Fuck you, Ford, with your red ass. You the one who grew up in the damn sticks. I grew up in a city.”
“A country-ass city. Look, I’ma let you go. My wife is waiting on me. I’ma call you later. Answer. The. Phone. Negro.”
“I got you.”
“Man, can you at least act like you’re glad to be here?” Jones asked, dropping into the chair beside mine.
“What? I’m just sitting here,” I replied.
“Exactly. You sitting here at this table all by yourself, no food. They got some fire ribs. Big South’s uncle outside on the grill. You know them old heads don’t play about ribs.”
With my eyes across the room, I absently said, “Yeah, I’ma get me some in a little bit.”
A minute or two passed, and nothing from Jones. So, I glanced at him to find him staring at me.
“What?” I asked.
“Why you acting shy today? Go talk to her,” Jones said.
“Go talk to who?”
“The person you were staring at.”
“Who was I staring at?”
“Your crush.”
“Who is my crush?”
“Really, nigga? You know I’m talking about Bianca Bambina—The Notorious BB—The Don?—”
“I ain’t been looking at her,” I interrupted him.
“When did you start lying?” he shot back.
I gave my teammate and friend my complete attention. “I’m not—fuck it. I’m just…observing. Not tryna be all up in her face and stuff. She looks…busy.”
Jones chuckled. “So…you’re embarrassed after the show you put on at the last party, yelling her name and shit?”
“That, too. Plus, I got her autograph that day, met her. I’m good.”
“I hear you. Let me go get back on daddy and big brother duty with the kids. Don’t sit your ass up here by yourself all day. Mingle or something.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, my eyes across the room on the beautiful rapper…again.