Chapter Twenty-Seven
Nola
Tonight would be the first time I saw any of my family since I got verbally jumped and fired by Henry and Evie.
I had no experience in conflict resolution, even with a sister thirteen years my junior simply because there was no way in hell I was fighting with a child.
Clay practically worshipped the ground my mom walked on, and my own father couldn’t keep a relationship longer than the league’s offseason.
I wasn’t very well-versed in family drama.
Fresh out of the shower, I headed downstairs to the townhouse bottom floor in baggy jeans and a cropped muscle tee, the outfit was one of my most well worn looks and yet I still felt inclined to snap a bathroom picture and post it to my story.
If I was going to lose to Brittney today, I could at least use some external validation for my pain and suffering.
On the way downstairs, I could hear a woman rapping through Brittney’s speakers while she showered, and I knew that meant she was nowhere close to getting out of the shower soon.
It was weird how in only two weeks time I was catching up to home habits and daily schedules.
The first time I saw the extra juice in the fridge I legitimately thought it was a test. Like I could disregard the poisonous note, drink it, and then get yelled at for touching her things.
But I had to remind myself that Brittney was making a conscious effort to be better.
Which meant I had to do my part and show the same consideration.
Because even if we weren’t going to be in competition with each other anymore, that didn’t mean I still couldn’t try to beat her at something. Even if it was a game on my side.
Rashida and Allison offered to pick up takeout, and it wasn’t until Brittney confirmed she’d stay that I told them they could pick up from a new Filipino-Cuban fusion restaurant.
I didn’t know how authentic it’d be or if she’d even like it, but maybe she was missing her mom’s cooking and could use a boost.
I was really trying, or whatever.
I turned on the lights downstairs and opened the door to Daya who stood on the welcome mat swaying and slightly blushing. Her hands were heavy with wine I knew I’d need until everyone went home.
“Why do you already look tipsy?” I already knew the answer but still wanted to hear it.
“Because I underestimated the happy hour drinks at a gay bar, yet again.” She stepped into the townhouse, her outfit giving cutesy girly pop date night.
“Who was your date with?”
“Who said it was a date?”
“Okay, fine. Keep your secrets,” I conceded. “Be nice tonight, I invited Brittney.”
Daya feigned shock as she set the wine down, “I am the epitome of nice, Nola Belle Young.”
“Your middle name is Belle?” Brittney yelled, bounding down the stairs. The front half of her hair was braided and tied with colored rubber bands, and I let my eyes skim the rest of her body.
Fuck me, we’re matching.
“Oh my God, you guys are matching!” Daya yelled, fueled by her happy hour drinks. “Did you plan this?!”
“Of course not,” I answered at the same time Brittney said, “Of course.”
And then she fucking winked at me.
Brittney wore baggy jeans and a white ribbed tank top that was definitely see through, because not only could I tell she was not wearing a bra, but her nipples were pierced too.
Great, good.
Daya clapped like an easily entertained child, and I was immediately regretting this new duo that was forming.
“Daya, I think you should take a picture of us. I want to post it.” Brittney walked past me, her sweet scent filling my nose—this time I could name it. She smelled like guava and lemons.
Before I could come back to earth, Brittney was handing tipsy Daya her phone and running over to clutch my side.
I didn’t even think I had time to look at the camera because I was looking down at Brittney, that hot feeling returning.
Before I knew it, the moment was over, and Brittney grabbed her phone back.
Was this what being friendly was like with her?
It had been less than ten minutes, and I barely gotten three sentences out.
Between her infectious energy—considering Daya was ready to bite her last week—and my slow processing, I really wasn’t prepared for the shift in our relationship.
I thought there’d be a few more awkward instances, more threatening juices in the fridge, and maybe one more fight.
Instead, it felt like I was walking on the beach our balcony overlooked. I felt light, bouncy, dare I say even a little silly.
What the hell is going on?
Before I could decipher Brittney and Daya giggling over the phone, the door rang, and thus began the night I was dreading.
“My favorite nieces!” Allison bounded in and wrapped me, Daya, and Brittney in a hug as if we all didn’t tower over her by at least a foot.
Allison never had an issue breaking tension, and I knew it was the plan for her to walk in first and have my Aunt Rashida come in behind with the food. Smart women.
“Hi, Auntie.” I held on the longest, missing this small and scary woman, regretting the stone wall I’d put up in the name of icing everyone out.
Allison slapped my shoulder. “You will never go that long without talking again, you hear me?” Her southern twang popped out as she reprimanded me.
“Is that your declaration as aunt or as boss?” I retorted with more attitude than I meant.
“Woof,” Brittney mumbled behind me before she was dwarfed in Rashida’s arms in the longest hug, breaking my focus on Allison.
“Okay, okay I’ve known her longer.” My jealousy streak popped out briefly before I tamped it back down.
“Yeah, yeah whatever. I’ll take the food.” Brittney grabbed the bags then headed over to the kitchen island, leaving me and my aunt to break the ice.
“Hey kid.”
“Hi Auntie.”
“I promise I didn’t know anything. Which you would’ve known if you’d picked up our calls.”
“Thanks. I just really needed space.” I leaned against the countertop, the cold marble keeping me steady as I opened up. “Auntie Evie was there so you can see why—”
“Excuse me?” Rashida interjected as Allison gaped. “Come again?”
“Evie Jones, the commissioner was at your meeting with your GM?” Brittney cut in, equally confused. “Why would she interfere?”
“What do you mean? She’s my aunt and Henry thought it’d be good to smooth it over, I guess?”
Rashida shook her head and Allison’s fingers started flying across her phone. “She knows damn well she shouldn’t have done that.”
“I mean, aren’t our whole lives just big overlaps?” I tried to defend one part of my family. Even if Evie was the toughest of my mom’s best friends.
“Yes Nola, she probably said she was there because of the gray, but her presence makes the gray even murkier,” Allison ranted without looking up. “It should’ve been someone else from the league.”
“Do you know how many calls we had just to make sure we could legally and ethically pay your salary for the Waves?” Allison’s fingers danced on the countertop and I knew she was growing irritated.
I didn’t know how to deescalate this. I knew my aunts would give me a hard time for the silence, but now my hurt feelings were growing into controversial league decisions, and I just didn’t have time to process that.
There was already too much energy in the room, too much focus on me and basketball, and we hadn’t even gotten to practice today.
“Is this Filipino?!” Brittney screeched from the table, her excitement shifted the mood immediately.
“Oh, yum.” Daya peered over her shoulder as Brittney placed the spread in the middle of the dining room table.
“Oh yeah…” I cleared my throat. “I wondered if you missed your mom’s food, so I figured we might as well try this spot.
” I moved to grab the plates as I felt everyone’s eyes on my back.
The silence was loud but I knew I didn’t say the wrong thing.
“It’s fusion, but if it’s good, we have a go-to spot. ”
“That’s the kindest thing ever. Thanks Nola.” Brittney said, as I approached her. Her round eyes were so big I could fall into them.
I shrugged the moment off, still not used to the shift in our dynamic. “It wasn’t a big deal.”
Allison handed me glasses for everyone, her eyes narrowed and a smile widening on her face. Daya and Brittney talked loudly to Rashida, giving my aunt and I a moment alone.
“Did you guys…” Her eyebrows went up as she didn’t finish her sentence.
Oh dear God.
She thought Brittney and I had already hooked up.
My mouth suddenly dried up Allison wiggled her eyebrows, taking my silence as an admission.
“I fucking knew it. You guys just needed to get it done and over with and—”
“Oh did Nola tell you about the one on one?” Brittney appeared behind me, her hands reaching around my waist to grab cutlery. Her body curved around mine easily, her chest pressed to my side, her cheek slightly pressed to my bare shoulder, my eyes widened at her.
And my aunt fucking saw it all. “Oh, I’m definitely talking about a one on one.”
“She thinks we’re fucking,” I blurted out before I continued to suffer alone.
Brittney’s body froze against mine. I knew it was the shock talking, but now it just looked like our bodies were magnetized toward each other. Two lovers unwilling to ever part. My stomach flipped in a way I hadn’t felt in years. Instead my aunt’s grin grew wider.
“Oh no definitely not.” Brittney straightened at my side, standing next to me. “I kicked her ass on the court and now we’re, like cool I guess, but there is no sexual tension, chemistry, physicality at all.”
I bit my tongue as the image of our bathroom makeout popped into my mind. That was four years too late. Not at all relevant to now.
“Sure, honey.” Allison grabbed the cutlery from Brittney’s hands and left the two of us to catch up on…whatever the hell just happened.
“What did I just walk into?” Brittney turned to me, not breaking our close contact.
“I don’t know, but I’m choosing to ignore it.”
I started to turn away, but Brittney’s spoke. “The Filipino food means a lot, Nola. Like, seriously.”
“Anytime.” I smiled at her, genuinely, not the way I practiced for the media, because I meant it. I liked having a regular conversation with Brittney.
It was nice.
“We’re not at hug status yet, but keep it up, and we will be.” Brittney winked at me and headed back to the table, grabbing a spot next to Daya who was suddenly her new best friend.
I needed a moment to myself. I looked down at my phone, clicking through my socials before shutting it down for the night. The notifications on Instagram were nuts, my mirror picture from earlier getting plenty of DMs and reactions. But at the top of my screen, was my mention in Brittney’s story.
In the photo, Brittney looked snuggled into my chest, her smile blinding the camera.
My profile was only focused on her, looking down because she was slouched and for once shorter than me.
We looked like we enjoyed each other’s presence, I looked like I was smiling down at her.
Like she’d just told a joke, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
If I didn’t know better I’d think we were a couple.
For once, the thought of me and Brittney didn’t make my stomach roll with agitation. Because it fluttered.
Again.
Oh fuck.