Page 1 of Love & Streetball

1

With my worn-out basketball tucked under an arm, I strolled to the courts down the street from the apartment complex. In my white tank top with a red sports bra underneath, and black ball shorts that stopped at my knees, I always got confused for a boy until I let my hair down. My chest was flat, and I kept my hair braided, and most of the time, I wore a durag. I didn’t want to look like a female. I saw how the old men looked at the young girls around the way with lust in their eyes. It was as if they were already choosing, and it was disgusting.

The court was already full when I arrived, boys from the block, trash-talking loud enough for the whole project to hear. The chain-link fence rattled with every bounce of the ball. I slid through the gate, nodding at a few familiar faces.

“Yo, Slim! Hurry up and get in the game. Put that ball down!” Vani called out. Vani was seventeen, tall and skinny, and always had a blunt tucked behind his ear. That was my best friend, though.

I dropped my ball on the grass, hoping nobody would take off with it. My two-year-old sneakers that were on their last leg squeaked against the cracked blacktop as I joined the game. Vani let me know who was on the same team I was on. I leaned over with my hands on my knees, ready for the game to start. There was one nigga I wasn’t familiar with. Everyone else I knew or knew of.

He was the color of pecan with tight eyes, like he was Black but mixed with something else. His hair was short and in tight coils with the sides faded. The nigga couldn’t be from the projects because he was dripped out in a Nike fit, and not one you find in Ross or Burlington. His shoes weren’t even broken in yet. They did not have one scuff on them. Where the hell did they find him?

The game started, and everything else around me blurred. This is what I do. I thought about basketball all day and every day. I play ball for the high school, and my name rang bells through Love Heights. Basketball was going to get me out of the projects.

Vani passed me the ball, and the unknown guy was on me. I moved left, and he did too. When I attempted to go left again, he was there. It was like he knew what I was going to do. I pivoted quickly, trying to fake him out, but this nigga didn’t bite. His stance was tight with his knees bent and arms stretched out. His dark brown globes dug into me. I could hear the guys on the sideline hollering, hyping us up.

“Cook him, Slim!” someone yelled.

I tried to shake him again, crossing between my legs, but again, this nigga was right there. My best bet right now was to pass the ball. Good thing in streetball, there weren’t shot clock violations. The way he blocked me and stayed on my ass, you could tell this sport meant the world to him too.

“You quick,” he said with a rasp and a smirk, “but you’re predictable.”

He reached out at the same time as I attempted an underpass to another teammate. He took off the other way, and I was on him, but before I knew it, he shook the niggas on my team, launched off one foot and slammed the ball down hard in the rim. The crowd went wild. I nibbled on my bottom lip.

Vani held his hands up and let them fall, hitting his legs. “What the fuck happened, Slim? You too busy flirting wit’ that nigga?”

My face balled up. “Shut up, Vani.”

The game went on like that with the new nigga scoring most of the points, and Vani got four in. Vani sauntered over to me, shaking his head.

“Who is that nigga?” I asked him, using my thumb to point. “Where he come from?”

“He some nigga from the rich side, that’s all I know. He asked to hoop.” Vani squinted his light brown eyes at me while removing the blunt from behind his ear. “I ain’t never seen you play that horribly, Slim. What’s up wit’ that?”

I smacked my lips, adjusting my durag. “You’re making something out of nothing, Vani. I don’t even know that nigga.”

That same nigga was walking over.

“Good game,” he acknowledged with a dip of his head before holding his hand out. “Kane.”

For a moment, I just stared at his hand. “Slim,” I told him. He dropped his hand.

“Yeah, I’ve been hearing your name all game. You real good.”

“She’s better than good,” Vani snorted as he lit his blunt. I moved away from him. Vani knew I didn’t smoke and wasn’t going home smelling like it either, only to hear my Mama fuss at me. “Slim gon’ go all the way to the WNBA.”

Kane grinned. “I believe it. If you ever need some pointers…”

“Pointers?” I scoffed with my nose turned up.

Kane chuckled and licked his lips. “My bad, I didn’t mean any harm…Slim.”

I squinted. “Where you from?”

Vani wandered off, probably seeing a female he wanted to holler at, leaving me alone with Kane.

“On the other side of town. Heart Heights,” he answered.

“What you doin’ this way? This ain’t your type of scenery. You’re like a Carlton Banks.”