Chapter 2
When I made it back home from playing ball that Saturday, I’d showered and hopped on my laptop to look up Slim’s basketball schedule.
The way she moved on the court intrigued me.
She was smooth and had heart to play with a bunch of niggas.
Shit, she dressed like one, but up close, Slim was beautiful with her tawny skin that carried a reddish undertone, and her light brown downturned eyes were framed by thick, curly lashes that brushed her cheeks when she blinked.
I was looking at her really hard to notice that.
Her eye color mixed well with her complexion.
Slim had high cheekbones and a slim nose, too.
Underneath the ball gear and durag, Slim was still a female.
Monday, I couldn’t wait until school ended.
I bought a ticket to Slim’s basketball game tonight to check her out.
My dad was still at work, and Ma was over her sister’s house.
Instead of driving my Maybach, I ended up getting a Rideshare to her school.
I had niggas that lived on the side of town Slim did, and they were always putting me up on game.
I knew my Maybach wouldn’t be out there when I left the game.
I was surprised at how packed the gym was for the girl’s game.
There were people with signs with Slim’s name and number on them. It was that deep.
“Kane!”
I reached my home boy, Jalen, and slapped his hand, bringing him into a brotherly hug.
We’d been friends since we were sophomores at Heart Heights.
Just like me, Jalen didn’t care too much for Heart Heights High.
He wanted to be at a hood school, and so did I.
His mama had withdrawn him and let him go live with his aunt. My dad wasn’t having that shit.
Jalen wasn’t at the court on Saturday, but I told him I was coming to check Slim out.
“Slim? Durag and big ass clothes Slim?” he asked.
“Yeah, man. She cold,” I snickered.
“You sure that’s all, my nigga?”
I cackled. “Yeah.”
We stood near the door, my hands in the pockets of my Heart Heights lettermen jacket.
Females were skinning and grinning in my face, but I wasn’t here for that or them.
My eyes found Slim warming up, her hair in straight backs.
Her tongue was hanging out the side of her mouth as she dribbled and hit a layup.
I attempted not to be obvious about who had my attention, but I couldn’t help it.
“When you meet Slim?” Jalen asked, nudging me with an elbow.
“Whatchu mean?” I quizzed. My gaze lingered back over to her, now dribbling the ball through her legs.
“Maaan, nigga,” Jalen snorted, laughing. “You know what I mean. You watching that boy, I mean girl, hard.”
I pushed him. “Man, watch out.” I licked my lips and picked up my falling sweats. “She a female, Jalen.”
He held his hands up. “Aight. It was just a joke, bro. Damn, you got it bad for Slim. I can’t wait to see how this plays off. She’s a tough cookie.”
He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already get from her. Slim was a no bullshit ass female. She had her guard up. She was in survival mode.
The game started. Slim wiped her shoes with her hands, ready for that action.
In the first two quarters, she ate shit up, but the opponents weren’t making it easy for them. Halftime flew by, and they were back on the court. In the fourth quarter, when Slim fell on the floor from being pushed, that had a lot of folks heated, especially Vani. He was talking cash shit.
The game ended with Slim’s team taking the W. She didn’t even stick around; she already started heading out toward the locker rooms. Our eyes locked, and she squinted at me. Slim didn’t stop, though. She kept pushing it to the back.
The bleachers were emptying. My phone buzzed in my jacket pocket.
When I pulled it out and saw my dad calling, I sighed and pushed it back into my pocket.
Before getting into the Rideshare, I’d disabled my location, which is why my dad was probably calling now.
He’d blow a gasket if he knew what side of town I was on at this time of night, and I hadn’t taken my car.
The way he thinks, he probably thought someone had taken me for a ransom.
My dad always thought shit was about some money.
I wondered how he was when he didn’t have the kind of money he had now.
Jalen took off to chase behind some girl while I waited outside for Slim.
It didn’t take long for her to appear, head down with headphones on her ears, and just walking.
The way she was moving those long legs, Slim had to have known I was waiting for her.
Nobody else around paid her any attention.
They were just screaming her name in the gym, and now it was as if Slim didn’t exist to them.
Slim’s name was on the tip of my tongue, but Vani beat me to it. That caused Slim to look back.
“Why are you following me? Why are you even here…wearing that…” Slim turned up her small, round nose and pointed at me, “jacket?”
I peered down. “Good game,” I said when I looked back up at her. “How’re you getting home?”
“None of your business,” Slim shot out. “I’m still trying to figure out why you are here.”
My phone continued to vibrate.
“To see you in action. I’m impressed. You held back— a lot,” I told her.
“You good, Slim? Vani quizzed, approaching us with a blunt in his hand, not giving a damn about being on the school campus with it. I took a few steps back, just in case.
“Yeah, I’m good, Vani.” Slim eyed me. “He’s harmless.”
My eyes narrowed, not knowing what Slim meant by that because I was far from a punk.
“Oh, aight. You need me to walk wit’ you?” he asked her, darting his eyes back over to the female he had been talking to. So did Slim’s.
“Vani, your shit gon’ fall off. I’m good, though.”
Vani looked me up and down. “When yo’ game since you up here watching my sis?”
“Tomorrow. Home game,” I replied.
He nodded. “Get home safe, Slim.”
Slim snorted. “Don’t worry about me, Vani.”
“I’ll walk her home,” I spoke up, just as Slim began to stroll away.
“No you won’t,” Slim called out.
“Do that,” Vani said at the same time. “None of that funny shit either. Slim knows how to fight, nigga. I taught her.”
He took off, and I turned to follow Slim, who was now practically jogging.
“Damn, hold up,” I huffed.
“How do you even know I want you to know where I live, Kane?”
A smile tugged at my lips. “You remembered my name.”
Slim rolled her eyes and started walking again. I fell in line beside her.
“What is it with you?” she pressed.
“I can’t like a girl who ball?” I asked with a chortle.
Slim threw her hands up. “There are plenty of girls who ball. You just came from a damn game.”
“Like me,” I added. “They can’t play like me, but you…you different.”
Slim ain’t have no quick comeback to that.
She pressed her full lips together, the corner twitching as if she was trying hard not to smile.
The sound of our sneakers scuffing the cracked sidewalk filled the silence between us.
Streetlights flickered overhead, stretching our shadows across the pavement.
“What made you pick up a ball?” I asked Slim after a moment.
At first, I didn’t think she heard me; her headphones were still covering her ears. I caught her rolling her eyes again and cackled. She was really acting like I was in her way or something. One thing she didn’t have to be with me was tough.
Slim turned and adjusted her bag on her back. As a gentleman, I would have taken it from her and put it on my back, but I had a good feeling Slim would swing on me.
“I think I was four when I saw my neighbors at the time playing basketball. My mama said I kept trying to get to them, and everyone thought that was the cutest shit. The next day, the neighbors bought me my own ball and goal, one of those Little Tikes. Every time I grew out of one goal, my mom would risk her paycheck to buy me another goal. I got better, watched basketball on TV at my mom’s sister’s house ‘cause she had every channel, and taught myself the moves. I was Kobe. I was The Answer…Allen Iverson. I was Curry…”
I felt everything Slim was saying, and she spoke with so much passion when it came to basketball.
“You probably were in city league since you could walk,” Slim huffed.
I shook my head. “Nah. Never played in the city league. Just like you, I’m self-taught by watching niggas like Kobe and Bron. Streetball…the rough, no rules shit…I love it. I used to sneak over to the Westside and watch niggas play for bread…”
“Wait…” Slim stopped.
“What?” I asked, looking around.
“Vani told me about that. It’s real?”
“Yeah, but you think it’s rough where you’re from, it’s dangerous over there,” I told her.
“Then why do your stuck-up, ‘burbs living ass go over there?” Slim questioned. She started back on a stroll.
I pointed in her direction. “I ain’t stuck up, and I already told you, I’m good wherever.”
“You talk real tough, Kane.”
“Call it what you want, but don’t nobody fuck wit’ me, Slim,” I told her.
The sign for Love Heights low-income apartments came into view.
Trash was strewn everywhere. The streetlights shone down on needles and torn condom wrappers.
I shook my head. I never thought I was better than anyone, but no one should have to live out here like this.
Kids ran around here. This area should be on the list of things to clean up, but it seems the city of Love Heights didn’t give a fuck.
“You can go now. I got it from here,” Slim spoke up.
My phone shook in my pocket again. This time, I picked up while keeping my eyes on Slim.
My dad exhaled. “Son, your mother and I were worried. Where are you and why didn’t you take your car, Kane?”
“I took a Rideshare. I’m hanging out with a…friend,” I said. Slim’s head snapped towards me, and her brows crinkled.
“Where, Kane?” he asked again. “You disabled your location. You must be somewhere I forbid you to be.”
I licked my lips and frowned, pulling up my sweats with one hand. That’s the type of shit that annoyed me. At seventeen, my dad still treated me as if I were a small child and not someone who had grown hair on his face and nuts.
“Why you always think the worst?” I muttered.
“Because we’re better than…”
“We’re not better than anyone,” I cut him off to say.
Slim was moving faster now, trying to shake me. She was pulling her dingy durag from her pocket.
“I’m not arguing with you about shit I know, Kane.”
“I’m fine, Dad. I’m…I’m in Love Heights,” I said flatly.
For a moment, there was silence. Then he cursed under his breath. “Goddammit, Kane! What the hell are you doing over there? That’s not the kind of place—”
I cut him off again. “Not the kind of place for people like us, right?”
“You know what I mean,” he snapped. “You don’t belong there.”
Slim stopped, glancing back just as I replied, “Maybe I do.”
“Kane—”
“I’ll be home later,” I interrupted, and hung up before he could say another word.
My heart was beating way too fast. Not from fear, but from frustration.
The way he acted like money made him higher than others who were less fortunate had me fired up.
He acted like I was supposed to stay tucked behind the high metal gates and manicured lawns with the waterfalls.
I powered my phone down, trying to save what little battery I had left and avoid another interruption. Slim’s expression was unreadable under the dim streetlight.
“Go home to your castle, Kane,” she murmured.
“Don’t do that, Slim.” I ran my fingers through my curly top. “I’m nothing like him.”
Her tired eyes darted around. I realized we’d made it to a staircase. There were niggas out, smoking weed and shooting dice. Every single one of them now had their eyes on us…or maybe they were all just on me.
“You need to get home, Kane. At this time of night, this ain’t the place for you,” Slim hissed lowly. “You see,” she licked her juicy lips, and I almost got lost in them. “Those niggas are zooming in on your clothes and shoes. They can smell money on rich niggas like you. You need to go.”
I stuffed my hands in my letterman’s pockets, feeling the pocketknife I carried.
“I’ll head out, but can I have your number?” I asked.
“No. Don’t look over at them anymore. Do not make eye contact.”
I swallowed.
“Gah damn, you still sniffing behind, Slim,” Vani’s voice rang out. He walked over smelling like a whole pound of weed.
“Vani, see him out,” Slim told him, low enough so those niggas couldn’t hear her.
Vani nodded, understanding without more context.
I wasn’t scared, but if Slim knew some shit I didn’t know in this moment, I would oblige and leave. This wouldn’t be the last time she saw me, though.