Chapter 48
AVERY
WNBA CHAMPIONSHIPS - OCTOBER (ANOTHER FIVE WEEKS LATER)
“We’re so close. Everyone lock in for forty-one more seconds,” Sarah says in the huddle.
Currently we’re up five points, so the chances are good.
“No stupid mistakes,” Wendy reinforces.
It’s Washington’s ball coming off of the timeout, so there’s a chance they’ll score and narrow the lead.
When the ref blows her whistle, we get in position on the court.
The Washington point guard throws the in-bounds pass to their forward, who Marisa is defending. They pass it two more times before my counterpart, their shooting guard, catches it.
We’re outside the three-point line, so I weigh whether she’ll go for the shot, drive to the basket, or pass again. She’s always itching to be the hero, I think. So probably the three-pointer.
I’m proven right when she’s up in the air a split second later. I follow, trying to get a hand in her face.
Whether because of my defending or just a poor shot, the ball bounces off the rim, and Wendy snags the rebound.
“Go,” Amari calls out to us. Meaning—get back to our side.
We hustle down to our part of the court, still thirty-five seconds on the clock.
Amari quickly swings the ball to Sarah, who’s immediately double-teamed. She somehow finds a window to whip the ball to me.
Shoot or pass? Shoot or pass?
The Washington defender is playing me tight, like I’m going to take the shot from here, a fourteen-foot jumper. Her close proximity, and the distraction Sarah is providing for two other Washington players, gives me a better option.
Namely, to drive to the basket. I do a dribble move that trips up the woman on me, then cut to the basket, executing a simple layup once close enough.
Whack.
As soon as the ball leaves my hands, I get knocked on the back. The ball drops in, unaffected by the late foul, and I also get a free throw shot.
I take my place at the free throw line and zero out any stimuli around me.
The sea of fans dressed in purple across the arena.
The players hunched in ready position to grab the rebound if I miss.
The pressure of closing out this game.
Just me, the ball, and the hoop, muscle memory guiding my motion.
Swish.
Now, thanks to my basket and free throw, we’re up eight points.
“That’s what I’m fucking talking about,” Wendy says as we walk back to get ready for the Washington possession.
It takes a few more plays and two Washington timeouts, but eventually the clock runs out, with us emerging as winners.
“PLEASE CONGRATULATE THIS YEAR’S WNBA CHAMPIONS, FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER, YOUR ORLANDO SURGE!” the announcer proclaims as confetti rains down on the court.
Sarah, Wendy, Marisa, Amari, and I hug as our coaches and remaining teammates start piling on too.
“First of many, first of many,” Sarah shouts as we all lose ourselves to the pure joy of the moment.
And I know that I’ve also taken the next step toward my unapologetically ambitious goal—be the best ever shooting guard, in the sport I love so much.
“AVERY,” my family screams when they let our guests flood the court. I run to them and fall into their arms as we celebrate.
“You came through bigtime at the end,” Dad says once we break apart, his eyes beaming.
“I know, she’s got me beat,” Dylan says with humor in his voice. “The only Parker sibling to win a pro championship.”
“Got me beat too,” Rawley adds with a chuckle, emerging from behind my sister. He’d been able to come tonight, since the Waves game isn’t for a few days.
I step to him, pressing our lips together for a quick kiss. “Hey.”
“Hey, Avie.” He grins, and wraps his arm around me. A million cameras go off, but we don’t pay them any attention. “My WNBA champion. I’m so glad I got to see it.”
“Me too,” I whisper, leaning into his body.
“All those dreams of yours are going to come true,” he says softly back, in my ear.
“And now I get to watch yours happen.” I’ll finally be able to make it to a Waves game, since the playoffs are done.
He pulls his head back a fraction, lips upturned. “Speaking of which, I guess I’m the only rookie left, now that your season is over.”
I give him a wink.
“Yes, but you're my Rook.”
The next day is a whirlwind. We barely get any sleep, and there’s a ton of media appearances in the morning. My dad and I have a great conversation during lunch with my family as well, after he asks about all my favorite memories of the experience.
By the end of the day though, I’m able to finally get some quality time with Rawley. I drive over to Landon’s house around five, ready to celebrate with him one-on-one.
I knock on the door to announce my presence, but don’t wait for him to answer before coming in. He and Landon have made it clear I can stop over whenever, which makes sense since I sleep over regularly now.
“Hey, Avie, come to the kitchen,” I hear him yell out.
As I approach the back of the house, Grover comes up to greet me, tail wagging.
“He won’t stray too far from the kitchen when I’m cooking,” Rawley jokes. “But he’s happy to see you.”
“The feeling is mutual,” I say down to Grover.
I walk in and lean against the island. “What are you making?”
He gives a grin of pride. “Your fave. Seafood fra diavolo. Lots of spice.”
“Oh my god, I can’t wait.” I’m a lucky woman. In many ways.
Forty-five minutes later, we’re enjoying the food on his deck, the Florida temperature in October perfect for an outdoor meal.
“So, the papers came through today. The townhouse is sublet. Officially.” I’d kept it for a couple of extra months, not wanting to deal during the season. But finally, I let it go. “And I told the real estate agent to start looking for a place I can buy.”
“Awesome. That must be liberating.”
It is. That independence I first tasted when I moved here, it’s tangibly in sight. Thanks to our fake dating scheme, I can afford to purchase my first home, and I can’t wait.
“Yes, though Sarah’s a real one for letting me stay so long.”
“Ah, you both love it.”
“True.” It’s really great having each other to lean on. Now that I have my bearings, I feel like I can pull my end of the friendship equally too. “How’d it go with your ‘housemate’?”
“Grover?” His eyes glimmer with humor. “He’s bad about stealing my food, but…”
Eye roll cued. “Your brother. Did you get to talk to him while I was in the ‘playoff bubble’?”
Rawley being mid-season, he isn’t in a rush to relocate. But he started getting uncomfortable with Landon paying for all of their living expenses and planned to offer to contribute.
“Yeah, I did, and he’s cool with whatever I want. So I’ll pay some for rent and utilities. Act like a real adult.”
“That’s great. But why do I think we’ll both be complaining about all this adulting in a matter of months?”
He lets out a laugh. “You’re probably right.”
We fall into a comfortable silence as we finish our meals. It’s become so easy between us, our trust in the relationship rock solid.
After I’m done, I notice the sunset has broken out into streaks of yellows, blues, and purples.
“It’s such a beautiful night.”
“It is,” he agrees, only when I glance over at him, it isn’t the sky he’s looking at.
It’s me.
He rests his hand on my leg, tenderly stroking it with his fingers.
“I love you, Avie.”
My heart squeezes at the transparent affection in his eyes. I had a feeling the moment when we said the “three little words” to each other was going to come soon, and he picked the perfect night.
This man deserves so much, and I’m determined to give it to him.
“I love you, too. I’ve never…I never thought I would find this. Find ‘my person.’”
His eyes expand at my confession.
He’s not used to being anyone’s number one, but I’m changing that.
“Your person?” he asks faintly, like he doesn’t want to burst the bubble if untrue. We’d called each other “boyfriend” and “girlfriend” before, but he seems to understand I’m expressing something deeper.
“One hundred percent. If you want to be, of course.”
“Oh, yeah, I do. It’s just hard to believe it’s all real sometimes.”
I know what he means. We’ve both had so much happen since that late April day at the gym.
“Well, I promise, Rawley,” I say as I lean over to kiss him, “there’s nothing fake about any of this.”