“Cool it, Bee.” Nola did her best to steady me. It was not working.
“How did she not see that?” I shouted more so at the ref than at Nola, in an annoying passive aggressive way. I’d get a call if I questioned any of them aggressively but at least from here I could feign that I was complaining at loud. “Would it be better if she punched me in the face? Would you call that?”
Suddenly Farrah was at my front blocking me while the refs conferred to make their final decision. I could see one of them side-eyeing me. The one who knew he should be looking for a new job after the game, because he sucked at this one.
“Bee, it’s literally the last two minutes and we’re down. Let’s not give Da Costa another chance to make some free throws.”
Farrah’s right but I didn’t care. If I continued badmouthing the refs, they’d be quick to give me a technical foul and then the Jaguars could select anyone to take the extra shot. I’d prefer to keep our deficit to a minimum and not widen the gap. My mouth might have had other plans.
I had been emotional since the minute I stepped into the Hunt Center. I called this place home for four years and now I couldn’t walk around like this was my home anymore. Before tip-off, the organization played a thank you video for me. A standard for the first time former players returned back to their most recent team. I told myself I’d only tear up at best, but that had gone down the drain the second I saw rookie me step onto the court for the first time playing across the stadium.
I also cried a little harder when the arena erupted in cheers and not boos. The negativity I received online was a small microcosm of the people that actually rooted for me.
But this game wasn’t going how I wanted and I felt partially to blame. My choices were too chaotic and I was sloppy with my ball handling.
I already scolded myself though and promised I wouldn’t mess up like this next time.
Tashi’s challenge was successfu,l and I sank in two free throws, but we still ended the game down by six.
Even though the loss stung, I was excited I get to hang with Perry and Danny after the game. I was nervous to go back to the Limp Wrist but all that quelled the moment everyone was finishing up in the locker room. I could tell Nola was ready before me but lingered. As a team we decided we’d never go out after losses, but tonight my friends from my first home were my exception.
“Now that I’m on the other side of a Brittney Lee crash out, wow man you’re kind of scary.” Danny laughed as she took a sip of her cider. She leaned back into the corner booth like she owned the place, in a casual graphic tee and straight leg jeans while her locs hung free past her shoulders. Her fiancee Perry owned the place, but I guessed once they were married it was all the same.
“Back when I played on the Violets, the bench started keeping tabs on every new insult she came up with.” Nola chuckled.
“Which one was your favorite?” Perry asked, sandwiched in-between me and Danny, but her eyes stayed on the bar like she’d be needed at any second.
“Man, there was one time I didn’t tone my roots enough after getting them touched up and she said she loved me in my role as the sun on the Teletubbies.”
“And that wasn’t even my best one.” I looked at Nola, smiling, and got lost in her eyes while my joke made my friends laugh.
I was hyperaware of the active basketball fanbase the Limp Wrist typically attracted when we first walked in, afraid of the pictures and speculation that was sure to come out of tonight. But now it all kind of sunk into a silence when I was with my people. I hadn’t even had time to walk down memory lane because I was so happy to be back in Jersey.
I hadn’t even addressed Nola as my girlfriend to Perry and Danny, but I was pretty sure they caught on when we made these plans and I asked if Nola could join. She fit so seamlessly with us, observing when the three of us were walking down memory lane and asking insightful questions when we talked about how close the Jaguars were to getting kicked out of the Hunt Center. When I gave her my version of game seven from last year’s championship, I felt her arm reach behind me and her thumb skimmed my shoulder.
It was the most contact we could have in public and honestly, I’d take it. I was fighting the urge to lead her to the bathroom right now for a good makeout but from the strength of god knows where I kept my ass planted in the booth.
“Oh! I meant to tell you I’ve been keeping up with y’all socials. Whoever came up with the mockumentary for you two is agenius.”
“That’s all Nina, the Waves marketing director.” I nodded, “She’s not you, but she’s pretty cool.” Last week, the episode of Nola and I finding out we were roommates came out and went viral. For some it helped explain why we were always together now.
For others, it only made the speculation grow on what exactly was happening behind closed doors.
“Woah, don’t forget her intern ,Marcello.” Nola added.
“How could I forget?” I turned away from her and back to my friends, who couldn’t keep the smirks off their faces. “What?”
“I’m really sorry. But do people not actually know anything is going on?” Danny asked.
“Brittney, I love you dearly but y’all are so obvious. I even saw it tonight on the court.”
“Saw what?” I played dumb.
“That you two aren’t just roommates, but playing house.” Danny murmured, wary of any eavesdroppers. The most recent social video of Nola and I was the roommate reveal, so noweveryoneknew we’d been living together in the offseason.
“Nola can’t find a reason to not touch you.” Perry started.
“And Brittney can’t find a reason to not look at Nola.” Danny finished.
