“We won.”
“You won.” Darius smiled.
Noah sat down next to him.
“You got ejected.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s going to be a steep fine.” Noah looked at him. “I owe you.”
“You don’t owe me shit. You caught the slant.”
“Darius.”
“Don’t.”
A pause.
“Good game, brother, and I would get ejected again no questions asked.” Darius stood up and embraced Noah.
Noah noticed his phone was buzzing. It was Piper,You killed that game, I am so proud of you.
He sent Piper three words.
Fuck San Francisco.
Chapter Twenty-Four: Los Angeles
Piper sat on the edge of the bed, Noah’s last message still open on his phone.
Fuck San Francisco.
The room was quiet, just Piper’s thoughts filled the space.
He started doing his breathing exercises, not because he believed in it but because the alternative had been waking at four in the morning with his body already running with no relief in sight.
Two minutes, in through the nose, out through the mouth.
Halfway through the second set, the phone buzzed. He didn’t need to look at it to know it wasn’t Noah this time.
Jayson. He answered.
“You’re up late,” Jayson said.
“Long day.”
“I assume you watched the Seattle vs. San Francisco game. I also assume you called to congratulate him.”
“We have been friendly since the photoshoot,” he said. “You pay me for being available, am I not allowed to have a friend?”
“Of course.”
“We text occasionally.”
“I didn’t say it was a problem, yet.”
It’s not what Jayson said, but what he didn’t.
