Page 15 of King of the Court


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Coach Dalton and his staff walk through the scrimmage with us while we catch our breaths. I listen to him critique Carmelo’s ball handling and keep my mouth shut. He was playing like shit today, but he wasn’t on my team so I didn’t care. Next, Mallory gets it for his outside shot violation. That amateur shit won’t fly when we’re at the Games.

I get my own critique from Coach Dalton too, and it’s one I’ve heard a thousand times before.

“Trust your team. Pass the goddamn ball.”

Easier said than done. I’d rather work myself to the bone and ensure I’m getting points on the board than rely on other people who might try and fail. I don’t know most of these guys well, and I don’t dole out trust on a whim. They’ll have to earn it.

Still, I nod at Coach Dalton, letting him know I heard him loud and clear.

We break for the day and head back to the cabins.

It’s late and we’ve been at it since eight this morning. Everyone’s dragging. I’m walking back with Trey and Anthony, and Anthony’s reenacting how I slid past Trey at the end of the scrimmage.

“You should have seen your face,” Anthony says, losing it to a fit of laughter.

Trey bumps into him and Anthony stumbles to the left, but it only makes him laugh harder. I meet Trey’s gaze and shake my head. Trey’s much more my speed. He’s married and closer to my age, quiet and reserved where most of the other guys have personalities that are larger than life. Anthony keeps the two of us on our toes.

“Who wants to come to my cabin and play 2K21?” Anthony asks.

Trey rolls his eyes. “Why do you waste your time with that shit? Pick up a book.”

“Are you kidding me? You want me to look like this”—he waves his hand down his body—“and play like that”—he points back to the basketball complex—“and be smart? Bro, the world couldn’t handle it.”

Jesus Christ, this kid. Half the time I want to punch him in the face. Fortunately, Trey beats me to it. He reaches out to sock him in the arm just as Anthony swoops to the right to avoid it.

A feminine voice interrupts their laughter. “Would you guys cut it out? Haven’t you had enough time to beat each other up on the court?”

I look up to see Leanna, or Lele as we call her, sitting on the steps of the cabin she’s sharing with Trey.

She’s wearing sweatpants and a tank top, and her black hair is twisted up into a bun on top of her head. Even without a stitch of makeup, she’s beautiful, and I look over to see Trey’s eyes light up at the sight of her. They’ve been married for two years and still act like newlyweds.

“Lele, babe, can I just say you are looking fine this eve—”

Anthony doesn’t get to finish his statement because Trey finally lands a smack to the back of his head.

“Stop looking at my wife.”

Anthony makes a big show of rubbing his scalp as if Trey’s hit really hurt him. “What?! I was just being nice. Jesus, can’t a man pay a beautiful woman a compliment?”

“No. You can’t.”

Lele tries to hide her smile as she shakes her head at us.

I nod in greeting. “Evening, Lele.”

She stands and grins as she walks down the steps to get to Trey. Her pregnant stomach is barely visible on her small frame. She’s not far along, which is good because Trey’s been worrying about being away from her when we head to Tokyo. Their initial plan was for her to go with him for the Games, but her doctor advised against it because of a few issues she’s been having with the baby. I don’t know much about it, but I know it’s been weighing on Trey.

“How are my girls?” he asks, bending to kiss her cheek.

“We’ll be better once you shower,” she says, teasing him as she scrunches her nose.

I’m relieved that I don’t have to turn away from their show of affection. A few months back, their happy marriage would have reminded me too much of my failed one. Now, that ugly jealous voice is muffled by the genuine happiness I feel for my friend. He and Lele have been trying to have a baby for over a year and a half, and I know how much it’s affected Trey. They’re good together. Better than Shelby and I ever were.

Alone in my cabin later, I still have a shit ton of stuff to get done. I have a dozen missed calls along with a full inbox of emails. My assistant is good about processing out the crap, but even the important correspondence adds up. I wish my job ended once I left the court every day, but half the role of being a professional athlete is managing a brand. The Olympic committee has been in coordination with my PR team in regards to a promo they want me to film with two other athletes who’ll be competing in the Tokyo Games: Brie Watson, an Olympic gymnast, and Andie Foster, who plays on the U.S. women’s Olympic soccer team. I’ll have to miss a day of practice to fly to New York City this Friday to shoot with them. While I’m there, I’ll also take a meeting with Nike executives to finalize the limited-edition Castillo sneakers they’ll release in conjunction with the start of the Games. I’ll shoot the campaign photos for the shoes that day too.

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