Page 38 of Wingmen

Not crush, it wasn’t a crush, he didn’t have a crush, he wasn’t a stalker!

He messaged Drew, but didn’t hear anything back.

On his rest days, he distracted himself by exploring the city. The North Park Blocks, where they’d met for basketball, hadn’t been what he’d expected. There were old folks playing bocce and kids around – but there was also a lot of trash, and used needles, and people sleeping on the sidewalk. The playground equipment was covered in graffiti. It was jarring. It made him wonder what the rest of the city was like. All he’d seen so far was the Pearl District.

He took the Light Rail to the East Side and Old Town, and discovered a very different vibe. The East Side was more like the barrio he’d grown up in in Tampa. His mom was still a teacher there, and she was always talking about how low-income folks were getting driven out by high-income development. Portland seemed like it was going through it too: luxury condos going up on the West Side, people living in cars on the East Side. Dustin’s basketball court was like the boundary between the two. Elliot wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

He’d gotten a lot of attention last season for being not only one of a few players with Puerto Rican heritage in the league, but for coming up through a charity foundation as quickly as he had. And all of a sudden he was making close to a million dollars a year, and when his entry-level contract ran out at the end of next season, the way things were going he could start making…a lot more than that.

It made him a little uncomfortable. It wasn’t like anyone wastellinghim he had to represent the barrio, but living at an expensive hotel in the Pearl District sure didn’t feel like he was doing that.

He heard back from Drew on Thursday.

Sorry! I’m NOTORIOUSLY bad at checking dms!she sent,with the facepalm emoji.Idk why I thought insta would work lol. What’s up?

Elliot received this at Force, toweling off on the bench between sets. His stomach did a nervous little flip when her name appeared on the screen, and he tapped it open and sent back,Nothing, just chillin.

Marisol spotted him through another set of bench presses while he waited for Drew’s reply.

So you messaged me two days ago to tell me that? Just chillin?she sent, and the side-eye emoji.

Elliot winced and shut his eyes. He sat with the phone in his hand, trying to think of a way to play that off. Eventually, he just went with,You got me. Guess I figured we could meet up.Tonight? Or this weekend.

Nice. Cool, casual, direct. He took the phone and towel and followed Marisol to the leg press machine.

Three sets later, Drew sent,Can’t bud, sorry. My friend’s birthday is this weekend and we’re going camping out in Oxbow. Ladies only.

His stomach dipped with disappointment.Aight no worries.He paused, then added.Y’all gonna be clam diving?

A winky face.Of course.

Chuckling, he put away the phone and finished his workout.

He Uberedout to Bernie’sthat night.

He told himself he was going back because he liked it there. It wasn’t that he was secretly hoping to run into Bennet. He wasn’tstalkingBennet.

The place was quieter this time. He found a seat at the bar, ordered a Deschutes, looked around for Dustin, didn’t see him, and told himself he wasn’t looking for him, anyway.

An hour and one very slow beer later, he still wasn’t looking for him.

He tapped his phone as he finished the beer and flagged down the bartender. Eight PM. He could probably just send him a text. Bennet probably wasn’t doing anything. Would that be weird? He hadn’t ever texted Bennet to meet up before.

He did it before he could stop himself –at Bernie’s. You ready for a rematch old man?– then locked the phone and put it in his pocket. He got up and went to the pool tables and watched a couple of guys chasing the balls around. His glass was nearly empty by the time the phone buzzed in his pocket.

Elliot went very still and pretended he hadn’t felt it. He sipped his beer as he watched a guy shoot for the corner pocket and miss. As the ball ricocheted and went back to the middle of the table, the phone buzzed again.

Very slowly, casually, Elliot set his beer down and pulled it out. Two texts from Bennet.

Wingmen rematch?

Or pool?

Heart skipping, Elliot sent back,either. both

He set the phone on the high top and picked up his beer, sipped, realized it was empty, and went to get another.

The phone buzzed in his pocket on the way back.