Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58947 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
“Real talk, I didn’t know I could play like that.”
I shove my hands in my pockets, uncomfortable with the contrast between how my career soared after that high school championship and how everything soured for her brother. “If you remember, I had actually been talking to the coach from my old high school to see if I might get some looks for football. I didn’t think I’d proven myself enough in basketball to get any real college consideration.”
“When Cliff got thrown out and you had to step up, you did. Big time.”
I had a triple double and played more aggressively than I ever had. Cliff was such a hot prospect the game was being televised. So everyone and their grandma saw Cliff punch that coach. The scouts who had come out to see Cliff saw me instead, playing the game of my life. The offers that should have gone to him came to me. They saw me step in for him and play like my life depended on it. Considering how Mama’s hospital bills had piled up, maybe my life—and hers—had depended on it.
“I was happy for you,” Takira says, reaching over to take my hand and give it a squeeze. “I knew what that opportunity meant for you and your family. I knew you’d make the most of it.”
And I did.
When a few offers for division-one colleges rolled in, I chose a full ride at the school with the best business program.
“You know,” I say, stroking my thumb over the smooth skin of her hand, “even once I got to State, I didn’t ever expect to start. I thought I’d ride the bench for four years and get my degree paid for. That’s all I really wanted at first.”
“But you got there and did what you always seem to do. You learned, you got better, you never gave up, and it landed you not only in the League, but with a championship. While Cliff…” She looks away and bites her lip. “Well, he gave up really badly. You didn’t punch that coach. You didn’t force my brother to turn to drugs when all he had worked for dried up. You didn’t ruin his life, but he needed someone other than himself to blame.”
“So he blamed me,” I finish for her. “When I called the week after the game, he was furious and told me to stay away from you.”
“He told me the same thing.” She shrugs. “You and I only had one conversation, so when you didn’t call—”
“Except I did. Twice. The second time your mother said she thought it best I not call again. Not for Cliff.” I hold her stare. “And not for you.”
“Can’t say I’m surprised. The punch was on every sports channel. Reporters were in our front yard. Colleges that had made offers withdrew them immediately.” She shakes her head and sighs. “If they weren’t talking about how bad Cliff had screwed up, they were talking about how you stepped up.”
“I’m sorry.”
I’m not sorry for anything I did, but for how things went so badly for him.
“Talking with you, going out with you—anything with you right after it happened,” she says, “would have felt like a betrayal to Cliff.”
“I get it. You had to focus on your family.” I shrug. “To be honest, so did I. My mom was only getting worse, and the bills weren’t going anywhere. I had to make the most of that opportunity for her and my sisters.”
“Which is exactly where your focus should have been. I mean, yeah, you and I had a great conversation on that roof and—”
“We did more than talk,” I remind her with a wry smile.
She had said I was the first to make her come. That should count for something.
Her eyes snap to mine, a slow smile kissing her lips. “True, and it was…great. It really was, but he’s my brother, and he was at his lowest point. Going out with you would have been salt in the wound.”
“I get that,” I say, nodding. “I wish things could have been different, but I get it.”
“You’re a trigger for him. When you got drafted into the League, he was so bitter. He went on one of his worst trips that week. And when you won your ring…” She shakes her head and closes her eyes. “It was bad. When they did that stupid documentary, he was so upset, we almost lost him.”
“What do you mean?” I ask with a quick frown.
“He overdosed,” she says, her voice hushed, her eyes haunted. “He flatlined, and they revived him. It almost killed Mama, too.”
Hearing that, I’m horrified. I know it’s not my fault, but guilt saws my insides nonetheless. I push away from the table and move to face her, standing in front of her still seated on the table’s edge. “I had no idea.”