Page 44 of Love & Streetball

“I’m graduating, Vani,” I whispered to the headstone.

My fingers traced the sharp, cold letters of his name. The date of his birth date and death was carved right below, a permanent reminder of that horrible night. The grass around the stone was sparse. Vani hated flowers, but I brought him some anyway. It was a small bouquet of sunflowers. He was probably talking shit right now with a scowl on his face.

“I know you’re proud of me, Vani. You should’ve graduated last year, but I kept going for you…for the both of us. It was hard.” I shook my head slowly from side to side, nibbling on my lip to keep the tears away. “I kept playing ball because one day, that’s gon’ be my out…for me and mama. She’s still been working like she normally does, but this year, she found her way to most of my basketball games.” I took a breath and licked my lips. “I still play streetball…me and Jalen. Two other guys from his team joined us since Kane went off to college. He went to a university out of state. If I were him, I would have too, but sometimes I feel like he left me.”

After Vani’s funeral, I rarely saw Kane. His parents put their foot down, scared Kane would lose his life, too. Kane turned eighteen the day after his graduation and then we started hanging out a little again until he left. We text each other every few days. He was in Louisiana at LSU doing him— basketball, classes, parties, and probably girls.

I pulled my knees to my chest, resting my chin on them. The wind whirled around me. The high school basketball team hoodie kept me from freezing. It was early March.

“I got a full ride, Vani. The coach from Law Grove University been on me hard…she wanted me real bad. It’s still close enough for me to visit mama, but to be honest, Vani, I don’t want to come back here. You… You’re not here and we were my best friend for real, no matter how bad people saw you. Whatever you did…I still don’t know. They did get justice for you, Vani. Two guys from Dreamview ran down on you and they got life without the possibility of parole. Two young guys…seventeen years old. It took a detective from Dreamview—June Butler, to solve your case. I even found her on Facebook and thanked her personally.”

My phone vibrated.

Kane.

Kane: I’m home for spring break. Got time for me?

Standing to my feet, I place a hand on Vani’s headstone. “See you later,” I told him. It was never goodbye.

I let him hug me now.

As soon as Kane noticed me walking to the court, he light jogged over and wrapped his arms around me, picking me up, my ball falling out of my hands.

“Dang, I missed you, Slim,” he uttered. He put me down and stepped back to glide his eyes over me. “You get taller?” he quizzed with a smirk.

I put two fingers together. “A little. Why are you here for spring break? Don’t college kids take trips in groups or something? Party?”

Kane’s jaw clenched and he wagged his head. “You know I don’t care for that type of shit, Slim. Plus, I had to lay eyes on you…make sure you good.” He picked up my ball and began bouncing it, crossing it under his legs in the black Nike windbreakers that snapped at the sides. “You hair looks nice.”

Winning money from the streetball games, I found a woman that loc’d my hair and made her own hair growing oil. My hair was full and neat.

“Thanks,” I replied, running my fingers through them. “I’m okay. I was visiting Vani when you texted me.”

Kane stopped bouncing the ball. “How do you feel?”

I looked away. “It doesn’t get easier.”

“I know, Slim. Let’s get a game going. I didn’t come all this way to not whoop your ass.” Kane smiled, showing all pearly white straight teeth.

Grinning, I rolled my eyes. “Boy, please. My threes are lethal now. I do not play around. Let’s go!”

Cackling, Kane passed me the ball unsnapped his pants. Blue ball shorts were underneath. He stayed ready. Kane was talking about me, but he’s grown a lot since I’ve last seen him, and he had more hair on his chin. His hair was cut shorter, but still had that curly top. I couldn’t deny how cute he was. It wasn’t that boyish cute.

I shook my head to get rid of those thoughts. Pulling my hoodie over my head, I pulled my rising shirt down. When I peered back at Kane his eyes were on my body—again.

“Ready?” I questioned, squinting at him. We tossed our clothes on the nearby rusted bench.

“Yeah,” he huffed, running his hand through his curls. I followed him to the court. Kane began bouncing the ball on the court, the familiar thud echoing in the quiet park. It was the sound that had been the soundtrack to our friendship.

Kane bounced passed to me, letting me know it was my ball. I dribbled, watching him. His cologne wafted through the air. I faked left, then crossed back. The ball left my fingertips, a perfect arc toward the hood.

Swish.

One-zero,” I said my voice flat.

“Aight,” Kance chuckled.

When he got the ball, he drove straight to it, using his body to block me out and made a shot.