“Shut up, asshole.” He doesn’t reply and continues inside, laughing loud enough that everyone turns their head toward him. How in the hell did I get stuck with him? Oh yeah, he was the only person on the team that would talk to me when I was first signed on.
The wheel of my suitcase sticks and I yank it behind me as I enter the lobby. I’m too busy making sure that it’s not falling apart as I walk that I don’t notice anyone is in front of me until I run right into them. “Sorry,” I say before looking up.
“Hey, you’re that guy from the plane.”
What the hell? I’m not even that popular. At least, I don’t think I am…yet. I’m barely getting play time, and there’s no way someone from a different state would know who I am. I pause messing with my suitcase and look up. “You’re Jolene’s friend, right?”
“Yeah, Lana.” She holds her hand out, “We didn’t get to properly meet while at the airport.”
“Bentley,” I place my hand in hers and shake. “The airline puts you up in some swanky hotels.” This place has to be expensive. I know if I wasn’t on the team, there’s no way I’d be able to afford to even walk into a place like this.
“I’m meeting a friend.”
“Is Jolene with you?” I turn my head to the left and right, hoping to glimpse the woman who wants nothing to do with me.
“No, she’s at the airport hotel.” She bounces on her toes, waiting for me to say something else. When I don’t, she grins. “So, that entire thing didn’t go as you planned, did it?”
“Honestly, I’m surprised she pulled me to y’all. What’s the story with her and that dude?”
“It’s not my place to say anything, but a good way to impress her is maybe don’t be so…abrasive.”
Jordan said the same thing. Maybe I am overbearing when it comes to something, or in this case someone, I want. “I don’t know if I’ll ever see her again. There’s no guarantee she’ll be working anymore on the flights I’m on.”
“Lucky for you, I can help with that.” She pulls out her phone and opens up her contacts. “Give me your number.” Oh no. I really hope she’s not trying to pull one over on me and blow up my phone to date her. She must see my hesitancy because she adds, “If you want my help with Jolene, I'll need your number to pass along information.”
She has a point. She hasn’t shown the slightest hint that she’s interested in me. I breathe out a sigh of relief and rattle off my number. “Why are you willing to help me?”
My phone dings in my pocket and Lana slides her phone back into her pocket. “Because she’s had a rough go of it lately, and I’ll do anything to put a smile on her face. Even if it’s only to have some fun with you.” Should I be offended she’s insinuating I’m only around for a good time? She’s not wrong, but I don’t like how easily she’s pegged me. “Just don’t hurt her if you can help it.”
“That’s never my goal.” Taking a step closer to her, I nod my head. “Thank you for your help. I’m not even sure why I like her. It’s probably because she won’t give me the time of day.” That makes her a challenge whether she knows it or not. “I better catch up with my friend. I have no idea what I’m doing. It’s my first out-of-town game.”
“Good luck,” she waves at me. “I know nothing about sports, but I hope you win.”
“Thanks.” I watch her walk away, toward one of my teammates. That’s odd. Shrugging my shoulders, I search for Jordan. He’s in line at the front desk, and I make my way toward him. As grateful as I am for Lana’s help, that has to be the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had. She’ll either come through with the help, or she’ll forget I exist. Only time will tell.
* * *
“Rookie,” the coach calls. I’m toward the end of the long row of chairs, and unsure if I heard him correctly. There isn’t anyone else he could be talking to. I’m the only rookie on the team. “Get over here.”
One of my teammates slaps my arm. “You better go. He wants to put you on the court.”
Standing up, I pull my off my warmup pants, almost tripping over the last snap that won’t undo. Throwing the pants on the chair I was sitting in; I turn toward the coach and jog over. “Yeah, Coach.”
“I need you to go in,” he puts a hand on my shoulder. “If you want to move up to a starting position, you need to show me you want it. Jump in for Hobbs, and we’ll see how you do.”
“You got it, Coach.” I don’t wait to see if he has anything else to say. Everything he said after ‘I need you to go in’ went in one ear and out the other. I check in with the score table and wait for the refs to wave me in.
Hobbs isn’t happy that he’s being taken out of the game to be replaced with the new guy, but I don’t really care. This is my chance to shine. He also had to have known that his shitty playing would get him pulled from the game. Jordan is smiling as I join the rest of the players on the court. I roll my eyes and take my position.
Jordan throws the ball in from the side and I run a screen to set up the play, then sprint to baseline outside the three-point line. Nobody is guarding me, and I wait for Ross to pass me the ball for the shot, but he passes it to someone else. He saw me. I know he did. He looked right at me and chose to give the ball to someone who is heavily guarded. How am I supposed to prove myself if the rest of my team won’t give me the chance?
The other team steals the ball and I haul ass to the other side of the court, hoping to get there before they score. Doing everything I can to stay in the game. Coach wants to see what I’m capable of…I’m about to make sure he sees me as an asset. Bypassing the guy with the ball, I head straight to the key. That’s my sweet spot. I may not be as tall as some of these guys, but I’m not short either. All I need is for them to pass the ball and I’ll block whoever thinks they’re going to one up me. The point guard passes it to a player behind me and I’m quick to turn around. He sees me and tries for a jump shot. My feet leave the ground and my hands reach out to the empty air above me. For a split second I think I jumped too early, but the ball connects with my hand and I knock it out of bounds.
As much as I try to keep from looking toward the bench, I can’t help it. His approval means a lot since he’s the one who fought for me to be signed to the team. The coach is clapping and rolling his hand in front of him, signaling “let’s go”. We set up our defense as the opposing team throws the ball in. Jordan steals it and heads back to our side of the court. I’m the first one down the court. These guys may have experience, but I have speed. Training any free moment I had at Hilltown is paying off right now.
Jordan long passes the ball to me. I dribble the ball. Once. Twice. Three times. The ball is in my hands and I take three long strides before jumping. My arms are up and I bring the ball down. My fingers grip the rim, and I hang for a second before letting go, landing on my toes. The crowd boos and I forget for a second that we aren’t on our home court.
Five entire minutes have passed since the first dunk of my NBA career and I’m already back on the bench. Hobbs went back in and I was forced to warm the seat I vacated not too long ago. I’m trying not to get mad about it, but I was doing good. There’s no reason I should have been pulled out of the game. Unless…he was trying to teach Hobbs a lesson and show him he’s replaceable. Coaches have done that since I was in high school, and I hated it then. Who knew they did it at this level, too?