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“You spent the night on his couch. Sounds like boyfriend to me.”
Cassie rolled her eyes. “I don’t even know what to wear.”
Natasha’s eyebrows rose up so high they almost touched her hairline. “Seriously, Cass? Hello? How about a Thunder shirt? Let’s start there.”
“I don’t own a Thunder shirt!” Cassie wailed, putting her head in her hands. “Why am I such a book nerd?!”
Natasha laughed and patted her on the back. “Take a deep breath, Cass. I’ll lend you one.”
Cassie raised her eyes to her friend. “Really?”
“Really. On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You get him to sign it when the game is over.”
Cassie laughed. “You have a deal.”
“What deal?” a curly-headed cotton top named Kinder asked.
“A deal about getting Ms. Fielding a signature from Jamal Jenkins tonight.”
“Aw, man! Ms. Randall, you’re getting to go to the Thunder game? I’m so jelly!”
Cassie tousled Kinder’s curls. “Sure am. And if you listen really well during today’s math lesson, I might get you a signature on something, too.”
Kinder’s eyes got big and round. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Ok, but you hafta get the rest of the class one, too. Cuz you don’t want them to thinkI’myour favorite.” Kinder tried a wink but only ended up with a double eye blink.
“You drive a hard bargain, Kinder. But you have a deal.”
-------------------------
Jamal was putting the finishing touches on the shave he was giving his face when he heard the doorbell ring. “Irma, would you get that, please? It’s probably Bam-, Cassie.” Jamal stopped himself from calling out Cassie’s nickname. It seemed too personal. Something just between the two of them. Jamal smiled like a goon at himself in the mirror. He was too excited for a guy who was introducing a girl to his favorite sport.
“Dad, it’s Cassie! Get your booty out of the bathroom and let’s go! I don’t wanna be late. I gotta school Trevin on his jumper. It’sallmessed up.”
Jamal grinned and wiped his face with a towel. “You know,” he said, coming out of his bedroom, “For a girl wholovessoftball so much, you sure think you know a lot aboutmygame.”
Jamal pulled his daughter in for a hug before pulling her back and looking her up and down. “An Anderson jersey, kid?Really?”
“Dad, I gotta represent the entire team. It’s no surprise when I wearyourjersey.”
“What do you think, Cassie? Do you think it’s right that a man’s own daughter-” Jamal’s sentence trailed off as he feasted on Cassie with his eyes. Her raven locks were pulled into a high ponytail on top of her head and she was sporting skinny jeans, Converse sneakers and one of his t-shirts. A verytightt-shirt.
Jamal whistled. “Damn, Bambi. You. Look. Amazing.”
Cassie blushed. “Thanks,” she said shyly.
“And I gotta admit,” he said, leaning down and whispering in her ear, “You sure look pretty damn good in my shirt.”
Cassie smiled up at him, her big, brown eyes looking at him with a question in their depths. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Even better than I do.”
