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“People leave.”
“But it’s how you did it.” Jay slams a fist on one of the commercial dryers. “We were friends, and you didn’t say shit. You got dreams? Well, so do I. We used to tell ‘em to each other.”
His rawness has my gut twisting.
Maybe I could’ve been more upfront with him about where my head was at. But letting people in, even friends I trust, has never been my default. You let people in too far, they’re going to see your weaknesses.
“At the time of the trade, I didn’t want to go. Before that… I thought I wanted a chance I could only get in LA. I wanted the name, the sure thing. With my knee being fucked, I needed to put everything down on one season.”
“And it worked.” He sighs, turning away.
“Nah, it didn’t.”
Jay’s head snaps up.
“I got what I wanted on paper but couldn’t figure out why it felt empty. I was so fucking ashamed I couldn’t even talk to Nova. Ended up pushing her away. But I realized something playing at Kodiak Camp with the guys. It wasn’t about the win. It’s about the game.
“I think about Final Four a lot, but it’s not the time on the court. It’s how you and Coach were there for me. It’s the guys I get to play with every day. And I want another chance to play with guys I respect. To play with Miles and Rookie and Atlas. To play with my best friend.”
I reach for the jersey in his hands, tugging on it.
“That’s trash,” he grunts.
I ignore him and turn toward one of the washing machines.
“The fuck you doing?” he asks.
I lift the top door on the machine. The jersey goes in. He doesn’t say anything but watches while I scoop soap from the commercial package. I eye the amount and dump it in.
“Shit, you washing jerseys for the entire Kodiak Camp? How dirty do you think that is?”
Jay snorts as I close the lid and read the instructions label.
Never found a use for permanent press.
Normal. Nothing normal about us.
Heavy. That seems about right.
I rotate the dial and hit the button. It starts with a satisfying rush of water.
“My rookie year, the vets made me do laundry. I fucked it up so bad they never asked again,” I say.
“Smart strategy.”
“I wasn’t trying to be smart. I was legit that bad.”
He laughs as I lean back against the machine, eyeing my friend under the fluorescent lights.
“Not a second in LA felt right,” I admit. Now that the words have started to pour out, they keep coming. “I had a feeling the first time I practiced with them, but when you guys came back and Kyle…” I don’t want to start shit within the team by saying how he talked about Brooke at the first game I played against the Kodiaks.
Jay eyes me, clearly wanting to believe me but still wary.
Not unlike Nova, I think suddenly. It’s one thing to have a change of heart. Another to show up until you can prove it’s legit, that it’s going to stick.
It’s going to take time to earn her trust back. And to earn Jay’s.
I want to try.
