Page 9 of Love & Streetball

I cleaned my mouth and washed my face again before sliding under the blanket in my full-sized bed. My eyes closed as I yawned. They shot right back open because when they had closed, Kane’s crooked smile was what I saw…and that scared me.

The next morning, Mama was on the couch, knocked out cold, when I shuffled out of my room for school. She was so tired, she didn’t even make it to her bedroom. She still wore her janitor uniform, her arm thrown over her face. I moved around the house, and she didn’t stir, not once. The TV was playing some early morning infomercial, now lowly, casting a soft blue glow over her. Mama worked so hard to provide for us, and it was barely enough for the hours she gave them. She worked herself damn near to the bone to barely scrape rent together, to keep the light on most months, and to feed us noodles and hot dogs. I wasn’t complaining, I just knew this couldn’t be her forever…or mine.

I moved quietly, making sure not to wake her even though the slightest sound usually did. Not this morning. She didn’t stir. Mama was too exhausted. In the kitchen, I poured the last of the off-brand cereal into a bowl and the last few drops of milk. I added a little water since the milk wasn’t enough. It was better than going to school with a grumbling stomach and being embarrassed when the classroom was quiet.

After eating, I took care of my hygiene—brushing my teeth, washing my face, and putting on deodorant. I pulled a plain white t-shirt over my head, followed by a hoodie, and slid my legs into black joggers from the men’s section at Walmart. With mismatched socks on my feet, I stuffed them into my Puma shoes, grabbed my backpack, and left the room. I wouldn’t remove my durag until I made it onto school grounds.

When I stepped outside, the cold, November morning air slapped me in the face. Kids were running around, waiting for their school bus. I adjusted my strap and flipped my hood onto my head, then dragged my feet in the direction of Love Heights High.

The day dragged on slow as hell. For lunch, they had pizza. By the last period, I was over it. I was always over it. I had one more year of school, and then I was hoping to get a full ride to any college that would accept me. I wasn’t picky at all.

The final bell rang. Vani popped up beside me at my locker with a smirk on his face.

“Don’t you ever answer the phone again while fucking a ho,” I mumbled, removing books from my backpack to stuff in my locker.

Vani guffawed with his fist to his mouth. “My bad, I ain’t know if you needed me or not, baby girl.”

“Vani, I would never need you that badly. If I did, just let me suffer. I do not want to hear your name being moaned out,” I scoffed, slamming my locker closed. “Stop giving my number out.”

“He was persistent,” Vani snickered. “Listen, let’s go check this nigga out tonight at his school.”

“Who?” I played dumb.

Vani smacked his lips, laughing, shoulders shaking. “Niiiiigga, stop playin’. That nigga Kane. You don’t have practice. You never have practice the day after a game; therefore, you have no excuse, Slim. Mama probably at work.”

I chuckled. “Don’t let her hear you call her that.”

We started walking toward the double doors to leave the school.

“She loves me for real. I don’t get you in no trouble, Slim. You don’t have my back when it comes to yo mama.”

I laughed, mushing Vani’s head. “Your skin is tatted, and you come around smelling like Snoop Dogg.” We snickered in unison. “Mama knows you look out for me, but she also knows you hell. Is she lying?” I cut my eyes over at Vani, who was grinning.

He ran a hand over his waves. “Nah, she ain’t lyin’. Hell on wheels.” We headed to the projects side by side. “We checkin’ ya boy out? Remember I told you ‘bout the games on the Westside? We can really use him to win that bread.”

“He isn’t my boy, Vani. Stop that shit. He did mention it last night, and I meant to bring it up to you. Me and Ma could really use that money,” I said. I nibbled on my lip.

“Hell yeah. We can see what he on and go from there,” Vani shrugged. “That or we can rob his rich ass.”

That made me double over and laugh. “Vani…no.”

Vani threw an arm over my shoulder, steering me down the sidewalk. It was never anything more than a friendship with Vani. I didn’t and would never look at him in any other way. When we started hanging out with each other three years ago, there were rumors. Rumors we knew weren’t true, so we kept it pushing, not clearing up shit.

We both bust out laughing again as we crossed the street. Vani removed his arm and bumped his shoulder into mine. “So we slidin’ tonight or what?”

I sighed. “Yeah, we slidin’. I ain’t got nothin’ else to do anyway.”

“That’s my dawg.” Vani grinned widely. His eyes danced over me. “You gon’ change clothes?”

I cocked my head to the side. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

“You should. Throw on some jeans or somethin’, Slim. You ain’t gotta wear that baggy shit all the time,” he snorted.

“I wear what I want,” I spat.

“You wear that shit ‘cause these niggas round here are weird. I ‘member you tellin’ me that shit.” Vani tapped his temple. “I don’t forget shit, Slim Jim.”

“I see,” I mumbled. “I’m not changing, though.”