Page 63 of Love & Streetball

“My girl wants a tattoo,” Kane answered for me and butterflies swarmed my stomach. Every time he called me his girl, it does something to me.

The man nodded. “I’m Pat, the owner,” he replied placing a hand on his chest. His eyes focused on me. “Do you have an idea of what you want?”

My head bobbed up and down. “A basketball with wings.”

“Nice,” Pat responded. He guided us toward a counter and handed me a clipboard. “Fill this out and I need to see identification, so I can make a copy of it.”

I never went anywhere without my driver’s license, so I dug in my pocket, pulled it out and handed it to him. Then I quickly filled out the paperwork.

“Alrighty. Give me a couple of seconds to prep the work area and I’ll have y’all in the back.”

“Okay, thank you,” I told him. I turned on my heels to face Kane.

“Still nervous?” he quizzed, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me into his body. The bulge I always felt when he did this, pressed into me.

“A little, but I want it,” I told him.

“The angel wings…”

“Vani,” I swiftly replied, then bit down on my lip to keep from tearing up. Kane just held me tighter.

“It’s gon be nice,” he whispered in my ear. “Just don’t get another nigga’s name on you,” followed behind it.

On the way home, I kept admiring the tattoo on my rib cage. The basketball was shaded perfectly, and the wings stretched around it like they were protecting it. Underneath, Pat had added Vani’s death date in small Roman numerals. I will never forget that day. It haunts me, but it felt right to add it.

“Put your shirt down before you mess the bandage up,” Kane fussed.

“I’m just looking at it.”

“You done looked at it fifteen times.”

“It’s mine. I can look at it as much as I want.”

Kane reached over and gently tugged the bottom of my shirt down. “And when it gets infected because you keep touching it, don’t call me crying.”

I looked out the window so he couldn’t see the smile spreading across my face. Kane had already done too much for me today. The clothes, shoes, food, and tattoo would’ve been enough for ten birthdays. I didn’t know what I had done to deserve somebody putting this much thought into making me happy.

We passed the street that led to my neighborhood.

I sat up. “You missed the turn.”

“I know.”

“So, where are we going?”

“You ask too many questions.”

“It’s my birthday. I’m supposed to know what’s happening.”

“You ain’t planned shit, so no, you’re not,” Kane rebutted. He glanced at me briefly while licking his lips and then focused back on the road. My body heated.

It only took another ten minutes before Kane pulled into the parking lot of a bowling alley. I stared at the building and then at him.

“Bowling?”

Kane nodded. “Yeah. You wanna do that?”

I smiled real big and goofily. “Yes. You know I like firsts with you.”