She did both.
I could hear my mom commenting on how much faster Brittney was than me. Even if it wasn’t bythatmuch.
Brittney started to drive to the basket, her left arm on my chest as I guarded her, keeping my body parallel between her and the basket. When I thought she was going for a lay up I could block, she faked me out, giving herself enough time to take two steps back to the bottom of the arch to sink a three.
Her angle was so pristine the net barely swooshed.
We played like that for seven more minutes, her speed was the biggest weapon against me as I tried to counteract any of her moves. We knew each other’s tells pretty well, after seven years as rivals, so it was a small miracle when she tried for her standard midrange shot and it bounced off the rim right before I could get the rebound.
With the ball in my hands, we were on my court now. I didn’t even have the energy to shit talk with how much energy we were both using. At the same height and similar weight ranges, we were not just tired from moving fast, it was the way our bodies absorbed each impact when we were guarding. At the moment, Brittney’s hands were reaching for my waist as I plotted on how I wanted to take my best shot. I started to drive to the paint before I pulled back and sunk a three. Easy money.
From there, she didn’t make my life easy.
I tried not to show what I was thinking on my face. I tried to use my eyes to tell the opposite, in case the smarter players were thinking to not focus on my feet for the fake outs I was known for. Somehow, Brittney could see through me, as if she was in my head, seeing moves I wasn’t confident enough to try on the court that she’d seen me practice over and over again in private.
I worked hard for every shot I got. This wasn’t like last week’s practice with Farrah. My sweat was well-earned, any air I could get into my lungs felt like a gift.
On my last shot that could tie our game, Brittney got a good, clean block, her best one of the game, and the momentum sent me sprawling to the floor. The light was blinding from down here. I watched her approach, taking the moment to catch my breath, but all she did was take it away again, the second she came into my view.
Her hands reached down to help me up, every muscle pulling effortlessly as I hopped onto my feet. Her hands lingered longer than they needed to, her fingers trailing down to my own fingertips as our bodies parted.
I didn’t know if it was possible to fall in love with someone through the game, and not just because of it. But I wanted to know how she thought; how we were able to be on the same page when we were on the court.
But that wasn’t something I was ready to think about longer than I should.
Or preferably at all.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Bee
There were a million things going on in my head at any given moment. A long running list of to-dos, all urgent, all important, taking up space whether I wanted them to or not.
Where are my little sisters right now?
Am I the favorite child?
Is Aaliyah too stressed as the eldest daughter?
Do I text my college friends enough?
But that all quieted when I was on the court. The constant noise that was my brain, turned into a gentle hum, a comforting silence. The silence was so natural it felt like breathing.
How much time do I have before the shot clock expires?
Who can get open the quickest for me to pass the ball to?
How many steps do I need to get to the rim?
But playing against Nola brought the noise back. And it had always been that way. It was why I was so easily annoyed by her; why I had to make her work too hard when we were at opposites. She messed with my equilibrium in a way I couldn’t explain—had never been able to explain—and I never thought I’d be able to get an answer why.
But when I touched her, the static returned. Silence, pure bliss. I only picked her up when she fell because that was what teammatesshoulddo. But how her skin felt under mine felt like how her eyes did when they were on me.
Electric. Hot. Steady.
And then there was the quiet.
Touching Nola eased me, so much that I wanted to do it again and again. And that realization scared the shit out of me.
