“And you also need players,” I said through gritted teeth. From the corner of my eye, Evie had shifted her position to lean against the doorframe, her fingers moved a mile a minute on her phone.
“If you’re texting my mom, I swear to God, Evie. I thought this was business; not personal.” I mocked.
Evie stopped typing.
“Nola, I will do everything in my power to make sure wherever you end up next, they know how special you are. I mean that. I don’t want to say goodbye, but this is the end of the road for you and the Violets.” Henry said definitively.
My jaw locked as if I had nothing else to add, but of course I had more to say. I was raised to revere my coaches and management the same way I respected my parents. It was embarrassing enough that basketball and family blended so much that my aunt was the goddamn commissioner here to pacify me and explain the league’s intention.
But to know a decision came down between mother and daughter, and I lost?.
But why wouldn’t I? Olivia Young was aforce. She was every struggling organization’s dream. I was merely her egg, and, some would argue, was only good because of her. Even ifIknew that was total bullshit. I worked my ass off, went to the school she didn’t want me playing at, made my own name for myself with basketball fans my age, and even won over the older generation too.
And in the end, it didn’t matter.
As much as I didn’t want to rise from the plushy seat I didn’t remember sitting back down in, I extended my hand to shake Henry’s, then Evie’s, and I was off the way I came.
In my car, I rang Daya.
“Heyyy, New Orleans.” Daya greeted me, but I didn’t have it in me anymore.
“I’m out, D,” I whispered.
“Out of what? Time? The closet? But we knew that.” She laughed at her own joke.
“Out of Chicago…”
Her silence rang, “Nola what the hell are you talking about.”
“Olivia’s the new coach.”
“Olivia…Young?”
I nodded as if Daya could physically see me. My silence was enough though because I could hear her fingers rapidly typing on the creamy keyboard I gifted her for Christmas.
“Tell me what you want,” she said in all seriousness. And this was why I loved her.
“Not Jersey.”Sheflashed in my mind. “Otherwise, I don’t care. Whoever will pay the most.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“You’ll hear from me by Wednesday.” It was Monday night, but I didn’t doubt my best friend.
“Thank you,” I murmured before handing up to drive in silence. The rageful tears I wanted to let out in the office poured down my face.
CHAPTER SIX
Bee
“Okay, so we’re really hitting the ground running here, Bee,” Aaliyah announced from the kitchen table as I made her and Amir their birthday breakfast. Was it more a repentant sorry-you’re-working-on-your-birthday breakfast? Yes. But they’d forget this minor inconvenience once I paid them their agent fees.
After announcing to my family the decision to move, Aaliyah and Amir got to work with outreach to the other teams in the league to explore organization needs and salary caps. Even without the Jaguars win under my belt, I always knew I wouldn’t have a problem finding a home on another team. I was the second overall draft pick, won the skills challenge at All-Star Weekend two years in a row, and just got a failing team a ring.
I was an asset on and off the court.
Yes, pretty privilege might have helped some, but out in the media, the worst that could be said about me was my penchant for crashing out on the court. While some called it a high levelof being unhinged, or immature, I preferred the termpassion. Bad calls from the referees made me feel crazy, and any time someone tried to son me on the court, they definitely came to regret it.
