Page 56 of Love & Streetball

Slim nodded. “Yep. It was a cash car. I had to fix some shit on it here and there, but it gets me where I need to go. Where we going? I’m hungry.”

“Where you wanna go?”

“Olive Garden,” Slim replied. “I’ve never been.”

“Bet.”

I hit the next exit, and we vibed to rap music until we arrived at the restaurant. We were seated immediately and sitting across from Slim with the feelings I had now made it a little awkward. I could even see her squirming in her seat at the moment.

It wasn’t intentional for me to change the dynamic of our friendship, but I couldn’t just not tell Slim how I felt. Ever since I met her on the court that day, it was something about her that I liked.

She was fiddling with the fork, her eyes darting everywhere but at me. The waitress came by, dropping off breadsticks, and Slim practically pounced on the basket.

“You good?” I asked, trying to bite back a smile. She was so transparent.

“Mmmhmm,” she mumbled around a mouthful of bread. “Starving.”

We ate in a weird, tense silence for a few minutes. I could feel her anxiety, and it was making me anxious. This wasn’t us.

“Listen, Slim…about the shit that happened at the end of spring break….I ain’t mean to make shit weird,” I let her know.

“We don’t have to talk about it, Kaaaane,” she whined.

“Then why you so tensed up?” I countered.

“I’m not.”

I let her have it because then it would be an argument leaving me dropping her ass off at the house and burning rubber out the projects. Instead, I changed the subject and we talked about her going to LGU and basketball.

Slim was getting sleepy after eating good, so we grabbed her mama a plate and headed to her house. As I was driving, even I was yawning ant my eyes were growing heavy.

“They had to have melatonin in that pasta,” I said through a yawn.

“I’m telling you,” she groaned. “Eyes ready to close.”

The engine was cut off when I parked in front of her house. There was no way I could drive all the way to Heart Heights like this.

“You can catch the couch,” Slim said, easing out the car. “What if they put drugs in our food or something because ain’t no waaaay.”

We looked at each other and laughed, not taking the shit seriously. I locked my car and stuffed the keys into the pockets of my creased jeans. Instead of taking the couch, I followed Slim to her bedroom.

“The couch,” she mumbled.

“Maaan, I’m too long for the couch. I need to stretch out,” I told her. We both can fit on this bed.

Slim flopped down on the bed, removing her sandals. I stepped out of my wheat Timbs. She stood, grabbed some clothes and left the room. I removed my pants, having shorts underneath, and my shirt. Slim sauntered back in and her eyes stretched. She tried to quickly catch her composure, but I’d already caught it.

Slim slowly walked over. I started to sit down on the bed but she stopped me.

“Let me see.” My brows rose. She rolled her eyes and huffed, “Your tattoos dummy.”

I cackled as I stood still, letting Slim move around me, eyeing the masterpiece. My back, stomach, both arms, and legs were tatted. I was bored…a lot.

“Wait,” she said through a breath. I closed my eyes shut, slowly opening one to squint. “You got my name with a basketball on your rib.” Slim snickered. “Why?”

The air in the room suddenly felt heavy with the weight of her question. I watched her finger gently trace the cursive Slim inked over my ribs. Her touch was light.

I cleared my throat that seemed to suddenly ache as I got my words together. My voice came out rougher than I intended. “’Cause you my rib…my best friend for real. I could get all this tatted without you on it.”