But, like I said the other night, it does feel like we’re friends now, brought together by these crazy circumstances. I trust him, and I don’t think he’s lying.
“It’s not.” He takes a drink of water after that simple acknowledgment. “Enough about me though. So you’re worried about cheating? Have you ever dated an athlete?”
“Yes and yes, but I don’t really want to talk about it.”
He seems to read between the lines of what I’mnotsaying, because empathy floods his eyes.
“New topic then, Pearl.”
I roll my eyes at him, but I’m grateful for the change in subject.
“Nope, not going to call me that either. That choice is unexpected though.”
“Your skin is glowy like a pearl.” His eyes widen for a flash. Did he not mean to say that out loud?
I decide to ignore the moment. “I’m trying to think of another option that isn’t ridiculous. Maybe we should just let Taylor pick something. Or skip it altogether. It’s not really my style anyway.”
“That’s no fun. There’s a fake nickname out there that’s right. Maybe we just go with ‘Avie baby’? Or ‘Avie’? That seems to be a hit.”
“Who knew a comment on Insta could blow up like that. I wouldn’t mind ‘Avie.’ What would I call you?”
He sits with the question for a moment before a light flashes in his eyes.
“Why don’t we just do ‘Rook’ for me? People might like that it plays into our story?”
“Yes, that’s perfect.”
“Done. We’ll tell Taylor tomorrow.”
We’re both smiling with satisfaction when I think of another question.
“Were you always focused on football growing up? Is that what you’ve always wanted to do? Because you obviously like basketball too, and I’m guessing other sports.”
“I followed my big brother, more than anything. Honestly, I was good at anything involving a ball.”
“You aren’t bad at basketball.” He chuckles, and I’m suddenly conscious that might have sounded like an insult. “Sorry, I mean, you’re good.”
He laughs out loud now. “Say what you mean, it’s fine. Any compliment from you feels like a win.” He’s smiling, so I take that as a tease. “Yeah, I loved both sports growing up, but I had to pick where to focus in high school, and football seemed a more set path out. I wouldn’t have made it to the NBA.”
“Or maybe you just didn’t get enough practice because you were doing other things.”
“I don’t know, I’m pretty good at accepting my strengths and weaknesses with sports. It’s the rest of life that can fuck me up. Or thatIfuck up.”
God, he really is hard on himself. “You’re doing pretty good, Rawley. At life, I mean.”
“I don’t know about that…”
I don’t respond, because I don’t feel comfortable pressing him.
“So what about you? Was playing basketball what you always wanted to do?”
“Yes. Being on a court, the ball in my hand, it’s home. I don’t know how else to explain it.”
“I get it. I can’t say I feel exactly the same about football, but there’s a natural…I don’t know, ease, with being out there.”
“That’s a good word. As much as there have been rocky times with my dad, I’m grateful for my family. Maybe I wouldn’t have found basketball if I had different parents, you know?”
He nods, and I realize I have barely heard him talk about his own parents. Just his siblings.
