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And it doesn’t bother me.
I’m not looking for an escape route.
“In high school. But I sucked. I didn’t make it to varsity until my senior year, and I’m pretty sure the only reason I got moved up was because the coaches felt sorry for me.”
I laugh. His self-deprecation is oddly endearing. An indication I’ve spent too much time around guys way too full of themselves.
Brooks smiles. “You never answered my question. Did you play?”
“Up until high school, yeah.”
“Why not in high school?”
I hesitate, and Brooks smiles apologetically.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“No, it’s fine. I just decided to pursue other interests. Focus on school so I could get a good scholarship.”
I push all thoughts of the other reason far, far away.
Instead of looking off-put by the revelation my family isn’t rich and I’m a nerd, Brooks leans a little closer. “Where do you go to school?”
“Richmond College,” I reply. “How about you?”
“Arlington University.”
“Ah. So you know Finn?”
“Yep.” Brooks takes a sip of his drink, then sets it down between us. “That’s how I ended up here.”
“Ah,” I say.
“So, you wanna play?” He tilts his head toward the hoop. The few strings hanging from it are frayed. Bedraggled and worn. The town gave up on maintaining this place after the new high school was built.
“Um.” I start to form an excuse, then decide not to bother. It’s not exactly a blast, sitting here alone. Mark, who invited me when I ran into him at the gas station earlier, is clustered in the center of the court with the rest of the popular crowd. “Sure. Sounds good.”
“Great.” Brooks stands, then grabs his cup. “I’ll meet you over there. Just going to grab a refill first. Want anything?”
“No, I’m just having water. Early morning.”
“Me too. Can I grab you some?”
“Sure. Thanks.” I pass him my cup.
Usually, I’d be wary of trusting a stranger. But Mark and Finn are standing right next to the cooler, and the large canister of water is sitting out in the open. Aside from me and Brooks, I doubt anyone is drinking any of it. I’ve been to enough of these gatherings to know it’s usually reserved for later, once the beer is gone and pick-up play begins.
I stand and stretch as Brooks walks away, checking my phone again for messages. Only one, from my mom, wondering what time I’ll be home. This is day five of my dad being gone on a work trip, and juggling my younger siblings is exhausting under the easiest of circumstances.
I respond, letting her know it’ll be around eleven thirty. That gives me twenty more minutes here and means about seven hours of sleep.
After sliding my phone into the back pocket of my shorts, I head for the lone basketball. It’s sitting in the same spot I abandoned it in earlier; everyone else is more interested in getting drunk and socializing than playing.
I dribble around aimlessly until Brooks returns with our drinks, accepting my cup from him and taking a grateful sip. The water I had left was lukewarm, and the icy, chilled liquid is far more refreshing.
“P-I-G?” I suggest, setting my cup down off to the side.
Brooks grins. “That’ll be a short game, I’m guessing. H-O-R-S-E? Give me a chance?”
