I tuned back in just in time to hear, “The Jersey Jaguars select…Brittney Lee.” My dad’s claps were louder than any I’d ever heard, snapping me out of my daze, and into my bright future.
I probably hugged him longer than I should, but when you were in the middle of five children, it was best to soak up any one-on-one time you could get. I confidently strode up to the stage and shook the commissioner’s hand then turned to hold my jersey for pictures.
The cameras snapped, and the audience roared…for me?Four years playing for one of the biggest schools in the nation, and I still couldn’t fathom that people were cheeringmeon. I had the followers that student athletes prayed for, sports media outlets that wanted to interview me after games, and yet I still didn’t get that I was highly sought after.
Not when there’s someone like Nola always in the middle of your spotlight.
I somehow remembered to thank the commissioner again before I was guided off stage so the show could continue.
And before I knew it, a pair of strong arms wrapped me up into the tightest hug.
Strong, commanding hands were on my shoulders. Hands I had stared at for four years. Hands I’ve stolen balls from, and grazed during tip-offs, and have felt on every inch of my body in the name of the game. Hands I’ve only seen as competition—will still see as competition, minus our time in Spain—hands that were holding me in an endearing way?
And I wasn’t swatting them away?
Bizarre.
“Yooo, we did it!” Nola shook me, her Chicago Violets jersey still clutched in her hands. “Hellooooo! Earth to Lee?” She snapped her fingers in my face.
“So sorry—I think I’m still in shock.” I wheezed out because my senses were now catching up to my body, and I realized I hadn’t been breathing.
“I feel that. I don’t think I started breathing until they called your name either.” Nola sounded breathless, which was my reminder to breathe again.
We were somehow not in the darkness of the wings of the stage. We’re standing in a bright hallway someone must be guiding the draftees to.
I was officially adraftee.
“Wait, I think I might hurl.” I mumbled, whipping my head around for a door or a trash can and not Nola’s expensive Gucci loafers. ]was that a diamond anklet?
The hands that were once on my shoulder were nowholdingmy hand. Like friends do. Like we did once a long time ago. “Come on, bathroom’s this way.”
This was the nicest we’d been to each other since the U19 tournament, the most words we’d said to each other since I got a tech and ejected because of her in the national championship.
Our feet scurried across the tiled floor and into a single-use stall. I went for the trash can in the corner first because I refused to get on my knees, in front of Nola, in a public restroom mind you.Gross.
My curly hair hung in my face, the longest it’d been since I refused to cut it during the season. The ends tickled my mouth as I dry heaved but nothing came out.
And then suddenly my hair was out of my face. A warm presence hovered behind me which only made my heart speed up faster and then I think I saw spots in my eyes because my life had changed all of five minutes ago and Nola Young out of all people was here to console me.
“I don’t think you have anything in you, Lee.”
“Maybe not.”
“It’s the adrenaline.” She remained behind me, close to me, touching me.
“Definitely the adrenaline,” I repeated becauseyes.We were both riding a once in a lifetime high, something we’ve been working for since we were kids. My hair slid back into view as Nola’s hands moved to rub circles on my back. My hands shook, tears in my eyes. I felt like a mess.
“I am too, but I think I just hide it better.”
Oh, I didn’t realize I said that out loud.
“Okay, I’m good.” I stood up and felt Nola retreat. I shifted to the mirror and saw that I was still normal looking. And yet, my eyes connected with my rival’s in the mirror. I turned away from the sink, cool porcelain sending chills down my thighs. The goosebumps on full display as I stood three inches taller than Nola in heels.
“Thanks,” I whispered.
She shrugged, because she was indifferent about everything. “Tonight’s our only truce, Lee.”
“Unless we play on the Olympics together.” I offered, remembering our dream.
