Chapter 9
CLAY
It’s incredible how the days blur together when you don’t need to go to work, or work out, or be anywhere for anyone.
In the unrelenting schedule of pro sports, there’s no time left to ask why.
Why play basketball?
Why even get up in the morning?
Or is it afternoon?
Nova left seventeen days ago.
Our argument at the party came out of nowhere, yet somehow it felt inevitable.
A break, she called it.
But it’s more than that.
I’ve been left before. I should’ve known it wouldn’t work out. The second I wasn’t at my best, things came crashing down.
Yesterday, it hit home in a new way when she sent for her things.
Now Nova’s studio is empty, and so is her half of the dresser.
I blink my eyes open to find myself on the couch in sweatpants. The air tastes like the stale pizza still sitting in boxes on the counter.
I flex, and chip crumbs settle into the ridges of my abs.
Apparently, I ate an entire bag of Doritos while watching reality shows.
The TV is on mute, and there’s a news headline about the season starting. LA plays their first game tonight.
In the past ten years, I’ve never not started a season.
It should feel liberating. Instead, it’s as if the glass walls are pressing down on me, stifling me, but I can’t bring myself to press back.
I spent my entire life trying to be the strongest. The fastest. The best.
Now, I’m nothing.
On the corner of the coffee table is the journal Nova made me last Christmas, made from fabric with a dozen of my tattoos replicated in her steady hand across the surface.
I crack the front cover, folding it open to the first blank page.
It’s empty.
Like me.
The sound of a car door outside pulls me to the window. My knee that, during playoffs, screamed every time I put weight on it now functions with barely a whimper. I look out over the driveway and the garden with tire tracks through the daisies.
At the gate, my sister is stabbing at the keypad.
I yank open the door and step onto the mat in bare feet.
“What’s your gate code? I tried ‘baller baller bills’ already,” Kat calls.
I give it to her, and a minute later, the car pulls up the driveway.
My sister emerges with a huge handbag in tow and big, round sunglasses. Daniel shifts out of the driver’s seat with a wave, and Andy bursts from the back and makes a beeline for the basketball hoop.
Kat crosses to me, eyeing up the garden as she passes. “Can’t decide who looks worse, you or the flowers.”
I rub a hand over my jaw, remembering I haven’t shaved in days. My hair might be long too.
“Kidding. I love you no matter how much you look like a bridge troll.”
“What are you doing here?” She hasn’t been here since the move—busy with school—and she had to pick the worst time.
Kat wraps an arm around my waist. “We wanted to see you get your ring.”
But despite the surprise visit, seeing her always softens the ice in my chest.
I help Daniel bring in the suitcases and put them in the guest room past the door to Nova’s studio.
“Do you have a basketball?” Andy demands when we’ve finished.
“Let me see.” I go to the hall closet and rummage through until I find one.
“Who the fuck are you? You don’t know where the basketballs are?” Kat quips as we follow him out.
“Haven’t touched one since finals,” I say as Andy and his dad go to work on the half court.
“What?” my sister hisses. I turn to find Kat standing, her arms folded, in my doorway. “When we were kids, you couldn’t make it through the day without carrying one around. You even brought it to the table for meals.”
The memories make me uneasy. “I needed a break after the season.”
“To play charity golf tournaments? To sit around on the couch?” Her eyes narrow. “And if so… I’ll hurt you if you’ve watched more Selling Sunset than me.”
Kat was always determined as fuck. Even when she was sick, even when things were hard, my sister was a fighter. She might not have legions of fans, people wearing her name and number, but she’s stronger than I am. A better hero for the world.
“Where’s Nova?” She looks into the house.
“She’s visiting family in Denver.”
“Since when?”
“A couple weeks.” I rub a hand over my face. “She called to have her art supplies and clothes sent.”
My sister leans against me, hooking her arm in mine. “I’m sorry. Did you have a fight?”
No, this was worse than a fight. Nova looked at me like I was broken.
“She was upset about… Lots of things. Wanted to take a break.”
“And what did you say?”
“What was I supposed to say?”
She sighs. “Clay…”
“Stop. Don’t need you practicing your baby therapist moves on me. Tell me about you.”
For a second, I swear she’s going to argue, but for once, she lets it slide.
“School is hard. Andy’s made some new friends. Daniel’s work has been exciting. You wouldn’t believe how much drama professors cause, they’re worse than any of the Greek houses on campus…”
We stand side by side as Daniel and Andy play basketball. It feels good to think about someone else for a change.
When she’s finished, I say, “I’m glad you have them.”
“Me too.” Her familiar face is brightened by the half smile. “Was it like a crash or a slow burn?”
“Huh?”
“After the championship, the downslide. Was it all of a sudden, or did it take time?”
I inhale. We’re outside, but there’s not enough air. “Maybe it was the moment we won the championship or the game where I got hurt. Maybe it was the time I called Jay and he wouldn’t call back. Or the trade itself. Maybe it was all of them.”
She nods. “That was what it was like when I was sick. A little at a time, until there was nothing around me that brought me joy. Did you talk to Nova about it?”
“I tried.”
“So that’s a no.”
I bristle. “She came here for me. She was the bright spot in my life. I wanted to be strong for her. I couldn’t tell her I hated everything.”
Kat pulls back and looks up at me, her eyes the same shade as mine. “When someone loves you, they can tell.”
I saw every time Nova looked at me when she thought I didn’t notice. With worry, with disappointment, with sadness.
“She didn’t want to be here with me.”
“She didn’t want to be here without you,” Kat corrects. “If you don’t like the team here, I bet you have a dozen offers.”
“My last contract was six years. The longest anyone’s offering is three.” I say something I haven’t voiced out loud to anyone. “It means they think I’m going downhill. That it’s only a matter of time.”
“Until your career is over? Or until you’re over?” she prods.
I rub a hand over my face. “Don’t shrink me, Kat. Pretty sure that’s against your ethics.”
“No way, I get extra credit if I practice on family.” She grins. “But for real, you been talking to anyone? Professional, I mean?”
I shake my head.
“I think I’m going backward,” I say after a moment of silence. “This is the first year I’ve gotten offered more money for endorsements than to play basketball. Like the teams think I’m over the hill. I don’t have it anymore.”
It’s insulting that my face matters more than what I can do. I spent all my life being the best, and reaching the top wasn’t supposed to feel this way.
“One of these days, your career will be over, and you’ve never thought about it.”
My hand flexes convulsively. “What if all I am is basketball? And that’s all I’m good for?”
“What if it is?” she repeats evenly.
By my age, most people know who they are.
Everything about me is tied to a game. One that’s given me as much as I’ve given it.
Problem is, I never took much time to think about what would happen when it stopped giving back.
“Clay!” Andy hollers. “You’ve got to see my layup!”
“Ever since you gave him that hoop for Christmas, he’s been hooked,” Kat murmurs to me.
I find a smile, for his sake. “I’m watching.”