Chapter 4 #3
The Pelicans walked away with the series win, however, Pen’s countenance was as if they’d lost. She wasn’t feeling tonight and hadn’t been herself for the past few days.
I was used to mean Pen. Snappy Pen was on deck, too, though.
However, instead of finding excuses to stay from around her ass, I found every reason to be around her.
Patience was something I only had for her because any other woman wouldn’t have had it so easy with me.
To say my days were filled with work in the mornings and PJ in the evenings was an understatement.
She got all of my time and for no other reason than for me to be in her space.
It went from me staying a couple of nights out of comforting her, to me staying the night every night since, but I wasn’t complaining.
Sleeping in her guest bedroom felt like I was sleeping on air, and the bedding smelled just like she’d wrapped herself in them and then made the bed.
The first time I slept under her roof, I needed to be next to her.
The conversation we had that night was needed, but I saw that she still allowed them to get in her head.
Her face after winning the game, still showed her being bothered.
Per usual, I waited for her by the stairs leading to the podium. Once done giving her non –interview, she met me at the stairs. She avoided eye contact with me as she took my hand.
“Hold ya head up,” I said, pulling her to my side. Immediately, her head snapped up as if a light bulb went off.
Back at the hotel, I ordered room service while Pen went into the bathroom. I couldn’t stand the silence between us, but she was in her head and wasn’t letting me inside. Any question I posed to her was answered in the same manner as she’d dealt with the reporters.
“What you wanna eat?” I asked when we made into the suite.
“Doesn’t matter,” she mumbled.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, Zoo,” she uttered and disappeared into the bathroom.
Damn near an hour later, she came out of the bathroom. The food had been delivered fifteen minutes ago and was sitting on the coffee table getting cold.
“Feel better?” I asked once she sat beside me on the sofa.
Sighing, she hunched her shoulders.
“You gon’ tell me what the issue is… Or you just gon’ keep actin’ like I don’t exist?”
Picking up her food, she started to eat without praying or acknowledging my questions.
“Pen?”
“Just drop it, Zoo. I’m good,” she lied.
A few minutes ticked by before I picked up my food, prayed, and dug in.
The backdrop was the sound of the television. Of course, it was on the sports network because it was the first thing Pen put it on when we first came into the suite. They’d gone through several other sports stories before getting to the Pelican’s semi-finals series win over LA.
Without so much as glancing at the television, Pen listened to the analysts talk their shit. While two of the analysts talked with clear sense, the other one seemed to have an issue with Pen.
“She needs to distribute the ball more if she plans to out beat a team like Chicago. There’s no way the Pelicans are going to win a championship with the lackluster defense that was played tonight.
This game was really anyone’s if you look at the stats.
London has to really do a better job at running this team.
I hate to say it because no one wants to be compared to another basketball player, let alone her sister, but London has to step up. ”
“She scored thirty-two points tonight!” another analyst insisted with a guffaw. “And bagged eleven rebounds. She’s on track to break a double-double record this year! How is that not stepping up to the plate?” he defended.
“I agree,” his counterpart added.
“I don’t know,” the naysayer continued. “Chicago is a beast. Gotta have more than a double-double night to get past them.”
Pen’s sigh was audible as I turned the television down.
“Zoo, we’re friends, right?” she asked seconds later, already knowing the answer to her own question.
Grimacing at her placing us in that category, I reluctantly said, “Yeah, of course.” Although I told her we were friends the other night, I added for now, meaning I wanted more with her and thought I’d been showing her that.
“And you’ve been paying attention every game, right?”
I nodded in confirmation.
“You’ve had time to study my game, right?”
“Where’s this going—”
“Answer the question,” she interrupted.
“Yes, Pen,” I answered, perturbed by her attitude.
“Alright, then, tell me the truth. Do you think I can win this championship?”
I opened my mouth to answer when she cut me off.
“Be honest. If you feed me some lame answer, I’ll be upset.”
Chuckling, I said, “You’re already upset. Ya body language, the tone in ya voice when you do say something—allat says you’re upset, lil’ baby.”
“You’re already deflecting,” she mumbled.
“I’m just sayin’ my answer won’t change how you’re feeling right now.”
“You don’t know that and stop avoiding my question.” She rolled her eyes at me then dropped her gaze to the plate of pasta she pushed around. It wasn’t like Pen to play with her food.
“I think you’re askin’ me questions you already have the answer to.
You’re here, Baby. You ran through a whole roster of other great teams to be here.
You can’t win a championship but ya team can.
Y’all have proven that you’re one of the best two teams in the league.
Getting to the championship round ain’t easy. And y’all did that.”
“Yeah, but we struggled with LA.” She sighed. “You hear how they’re eviscerating everything I’m doing out there.”
Tsking, I said, “See, that doubt right there, that’s gotta go. And fuck what they’re talkin’ ‘bout. All LA did was make y’all step up to the plate. That’s not a bad thing. Look at it as them preparing y’all for the second best team in the league.”
She smiled then. “Records don’t mean anything in the playoffs.”
“Only college players have the right to say that, baby. They only get one game per round. This is a best of five series. The odds of y’all winnin’ it all is higher.”
“Still—”
“Damn, you gon’ listen to me, or nah? You’re sittin’ here listenin’ to muhfuckas that don’t even know you, shawty.”
She busted out laughing. “My fault.”
“Quit askin’ me questions and then try to make my answers line up with what you feel.
I gave you what I think. Either you’re gon’ trust ya team to get you that ring, or you’re gon’ sit here and wallow in doubt.
One thing about me, I’m not gon’ let you have a pity party. So, don’t expect that from me.”
Her face balled up. “There’s that mean man I met months ago.”
Grinning, I replied, “Not mean, shawty—real. I’ma always be real with you.”
Me: Wya?
Mrs.: The library grabbing a book I need for class.
I read the message several times before replying.
Me: I’m at the practice facility.
Mrs.: Oh. I left after practice. I didn’t know you were coming by there and needed to get to campus before it got too late. You know I hate driving on this side of town once traffic is heavy. And I wanted to get in and out.
Which was why I was sitting my black ass up here waiting for her. I thought we’d agreed that I’d take her to campus so she could get what she needed, however, that shit must’ve slipped her mind. Classes had just started last week and with her first finals game tomorrow, Pen was under stress.
Me: Yeah.
Putting my truck in gear, I left the parking lot and headed back towards my office.
Since Pen wanted to be on bullshit, I decided to go back to work and finish some paperwork.
Maybe I’d go home tonight, too, instead of crashing at her place.
My place was being neglected for being up under her so fucking much.
Mrs.: You mad at me?
Me: Nah. Just be safe.
Mrs.: Ok. I’ll call you when I leave.
I didn’t even reply. Lately, it seemed like I was around Pen just for her to treat me like I wasn’t there.
If I wasn’t dealing with her attitude, then I was dealing with her silence.
She didn’t understand how, had she been any other woman, I wouldn’t have given a fuck about her feelings or anything.
I wouldn’t have been concerned about her acting a certain way, but here I was, friends with a woman that I wanted as my woman.
Pen had a forcefield around her ass that I couldn’t penetrate.
No matter how decent I treated her, she still found a way to make me feel like shit for something I didn’t even do.
Again, I was back to feeling like she had my head fucked up.
She had me fucked up. One thing I wasn’t about to let her do was have me out here looking stupid as fuck.
I wasn’t that nigga to be looking any type of way other than on my shit.
Pen had me off my game for a minute. If she continued fucking me over, I was going to have to fall back.