Chapter Forty-Three
Nola
I’d have a hard time believing Bee was finally my girlfriend if I hadn’t memorized how it had felt to wake up with her in my arms this morning.
The picture she posted of us in my bathroom was platonic in nature; just two people brushing their teeth with both of us giving a thumbs up.
A message for those watching, waiting to see how we’d do today, this season.
But what wasn’t platonic was the way my hand gripped her ass, out of shot for the camera to capture.
For the first time in two months, our morning routines were the same.
It was our first day of training camp for the Miami Waves and there was a lot of writing on how our first practice would go.
But neither of us were moved by the pressure to perform.
We both knew our roles, what we were supposed to do, and how we were supposed to act.
I felt the phantom of the kiss Bee gave me this morning as soon as I walked into the arena.
We chose to drive separately but everything else we were not shying away from—just watered down to a certain extent.
I would be my usual serious self, Brittney would be the life of the party, and we would show our teammates the days of us wanting to rip each other’s heads off were long in the past.
I didn’t even make it ten steps into the arena lobby before I saw Marcello and his video equipment. He, once again, waved at me like he wasn’t beholden to expensive technology. I gave him my finest tight-lipped smile and waved.
Tashi stood at the threshold to the locker room, feet wide and shoulders squared. She meant business, and so did I.
“Young.”
“Coach.”
“Let’s knock ‘em dead, shall we?”
We started training camp as a team in the locker room. Tashi stood in the center and introduced the coaching staff, then made everyone go around in a circle to introduce themselves like it was another day at summer camp.
I hated icebreakers with a burning passion; always had and always would.
I always panicked over what to say; what was honest versus entertaining.
What did people want to hear from me versus what I actually wanted to speak about?
Today’s prompt was to share the best thing we did during the offseason.
I wanted to choose the farthest seat from Brittney because it was the best place to be able to stare at her while making sure no one knew I was watching.
It was also the farthest from the various groups of players huddled.
As soon as I stepped in the room, every conversation stopped, and wide eyes swung between Brittney and I.
As if we were in a western and the bystanders were trying to memorize this moment to be able to retell accurately to future grandkids.
But the minute I dropped my bag off at my locker, Bee patted the seat next to her like I was a dog and she had my favorite snack.
“I saved you a spot! Come on, roomie,” she announced with a playful smile on her face. Her lips quivered to keep from laughing like a mad woman in front of everyone. The room was still quiet, everyone watching, waiting on how we’d interact.
And I needed to make sure I didn’t give them a show or a story.
I plopped down on the empty seat between her and the Waves first rookie pick from the most recent draft, Gia Vincent.
She easily cleared both Bee and I in height, at six foot six inches, perfect for her position as a center.
She had a quiet, sun-kissed face filled with freckles that matched her auburn hair and made her hazel eyes pop.
I was hopeful she could form a good relationship with Courtney Banks, our current starting center, so the transition from the starting team to the bench was seamless.
“Hey, I’m Nola Young.” I reached out my hand to shake with Gia’s, her lips tried to fight a smile that bubbled up to the surface.
I knew that look—everyone’s given me that look.
She was excited to meet me; and possibly more excited for the chance to meet my parents.
I also tried not to notice how the room went back to speaking as soon as everyone saw how nonchalant I was.
“Gia.” Her grip was strong.
“Welcome to the league, Gia.” Bee hovered at my shoulder, her citrus scent tickling my nose.
I almost gave into the urge to fall back onto her just to touch.
I didn’t have to look at her to know she was showing Gia every ounce of kindness in her body, like she was a little sister, whether or not Gia wanted that title.
It was a skill I wouldn’t have assumed she had until we started living together.
“How are you liking Miami over Indiana?” Farrah asked from across the room.
“I haven’t stopped eating Cuban sandwiches if that answers your question.” Gia laughed, adding another layer of warmth to the locker room.
“Wait ’til I bring you some good ass tacos from the Bay.
” Poppy Crane butted in, a white and Japanese forward, two years older than Gia, who kept her hair long to her butt in a high ponytail.
She was from Kansas City, voted the sixth player of the year before she got selected in the expansion draft.
“Can’t wait.” Gia said shyly, I couldn’t tell if we were overwhelming her or if she was enjoying the attention from the vets.
“And then we’ll go up to Charlotte for some good barbecue.” Bee still hovered over my shoulder, and I fought the urge to turn and kiss her temple.
“Gia, if Bee starts talking too much, feel free to just chuck a ball at her head.” Farrah laughed before Brittney could whip a rogue sock at her best friend’s head.
“Woah, anyone see the video the Waves social just posted?” Courtney interrupted. “They filmed Lee and Young like an episode of The Office.”
Everyone scrambled over to look at their phones while I felt Bee retreat from my back.
I glanced in her direction to read her face.
But she wasn’t looking at me, instead eyeing every face to process their reaction to the video Nina and Marcello worked on.
I didn’t even remember what I said in my filmed confessionals, but from the way Bee looked, she was waiting on the validation or the criticism, like she had a stake in the general perception of her.
Or of us.
Gia was the first to snicker before covering her mouth. “Nola, you’re pretty funny.”
“I am?” I was shocked.
“Dude, Lee’s face looks pissed. You guys really killed this.” Courtney cackled.
“Hey, if basketball doesn’t work out, you both should try acting.” Farrah quipped.
Brittney turned to me, mouth agape, surprise on her face.
It was like everyone had forgotten the thick animosity Brittney and I used to play through.
But I guessed that’d also been dependent on everyone here knowing who we were as opponents.
Besides Farrah, no one had seen for themselves the animosity that used to live between Bee and I.
The only narrative they knew of us was what came from the media. Separately, I was just the cocky superstar and Bee was the crash out queen. But here in Miami, we finally had the chance to rewrite our own story.
And that alone had me smiling at Brittney with no care for who could see.