Page 110
“Nice song choice. You happened to have that in your back pocket?”
“Maybe.” He smiles sheepishly. “Good thing I did, too. It’s good to expand their musical tastes at a young age. Besides, the song is about overcoming obstacles, fitting the moment.”
I start to speak, but Jackson groans as he reaches for his phone, muttering, “Not again.”
Squinting at the caller ID, he brings the phone to his ear. “Hey, Daniel, what’s up?”
“Uh-huh, one sec.” He turns the phone speaker away from his mouth. “Any chance you want to come to Portland with me next weekend?”
33
PHOENIX
“Get the rebound, sacrifice your body for it, old man!” Jordan screams at his brother on the court.
“I’m eighteen months older than you, asshole!” Jackson gripes as he runs back to play defense.
“Yes, I was hoping he would say that.” Jordan reaches behind him, unrolling a small banner reading “Go Longshots! Especially this Jackass” with an arrow pointing to my carefully photoshopped image of Jackson on the donkey.
Linda glances at the sign. “Jordan Lee, you promised me you wouldn’t use that for anything if I sent it to you!” Linda admonishes.
Jackson hasn’t noticed yet as he steals the ball on a breakaway layup. He elegantly scores two more points as the buzzer goes off, leading the Longshots to a six-point victory. I stand and cheer as Daniel, more exuberant than the rest, chants “Semi-finals here we come!”
High-fiving his teammates, Jackson pulls up his jersey, wiping sweat off his brow and revealing his toned abs. My stomach clenches at the movement when he catches me staring. I should feel embarrassed, ogling him in front of his family. And yet, only one word comes to mind as he heads over to me, mine. I shake the thought out of my head as Jackson comes over, eyes focused on me.
“Oh sweetie, that was marvelous. Takes me back to your high school days. Although, I did enjoy your show choir competitions more …”
Jordan snickers, immediately followed by an “ow” as Jackson slugs him in the shoulder.
“Thanks for coming. We have a couple of hours before our next game if you all want to grab some lunch.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket.
Mom
I’ll be free in about 15 min. Still free to meet me in the hospital cafeteria for lunch?
“I’ll see you all at the next game. I’m going to take a rideshare and meet my mom for lunch.”
Trotting off to the bench, Jackson rifles through his dark green duffel.
“Here, take my car.” He places his keys gently into my hand, lingering longer than appropriate.
“Whoa, you’re letting her drive your car? You don’t let anyone drive your car.” Jordan looks at the keys with his mouth open.
“I don’t let you drive because you’re a maniac. Phoenix can have anything of mine.”
The corners of my mouth twitch as Linda sighs loudly, clasping her hands together. I can almost see the cartoon hearts coming out of her eyes as she performs an old-timey heroine swoon.
“I’ll be back in a bit. Her lunch breaks are never too long.”
“Take your time.” Then, leaning in closer, he kisses my temple and lowers his voice so only I can hear. “Take care of yourself, Sugar. You got this.”
I smile and nod, setting my own battle face into place.
Mom’s hospital sits only a few miles from the tournament. Close enough that talking myself out of it feels more difficult than following the GPS. I park, cut the engine, and stare at the entrance for a long moment. My fingers tighten around the steering wheel. Jackson’s “you’ve got this, Sugar” echoes in my head.
I make my way to the hospital cafeteria—the back booth specifically, where half my grade-school homework got done, and the staff kept my lemonade topped off without me asking. Sitting on the light blue polyester bench seat, I graze my fingers over the ridges of the partition, counting thirty-eight, with the twenty-second having a slight indentation. This was my normal boredom tactic, waiting for my mom to answer “just one more patient inquiry.”
