Page 1 of Bad Habit
One
Mac
The afternoon sun penetrated the thick blanket of fog hugging the South San Francisco hills, and I tossed my sweaty shirt to the side of the court to soak in some early summer rays.Nothing could spoil a day like today.
Manny threw me the ball, and I lined up my foul shot. I bounced the ball three times, spun it between my palms, bounced it one final time… and then I took my shot. Nothing but net.
Manny and I high-fived as Isaiah and Justin took possession, the latter moving to the top of the key. I guarded Justin, trusting that Manny would cover Isaiah under the net.
“Your shoe’s untied.” I lunged for the ball.
Justin deked to the side. “Nice try, Mac.”
“No, seriously. You’ll trip.”
Justin looked down, and I slapped the ball from his hands and went in for the layup.
“Fantastico!” Manny said as he gave me another high five.
Isaiah took the ball, and I stuck with Justin while Isaiah and Manny jockeyed for position.
Several times, my teammate nearly got the ball from Isaiah. Isaiah faked passing to Justin, then plowed toward the basket himself. Guarding him, Manny tripped and fell on his ass. “Foul!”
Isaiah dunked the ball, then passed it to me. “Tied at fourteen.”
“No fucking way.” Manny charged Isaiah. “I called a foul!”
Isaiah widened his stance. “Nice try, asshole.”
“Chinga tu madre!” Manny got up in the much taller Isaiah’s face.
“What did you say about my mother?” Isaiah glowered, fists at his sides.
My teammate clearly had a death wish. “Hey, guys. Let’s just play, okay?” I try to calm them down.
“Fine with me.” Manny grabbed the ball from my hands. “My free throw.”
“No way, pussy.” Isaiah stepped toward Manny, but I sidled in front of him.
“What did you call me?” Manuel raised his chin.
I shook my head at my teammate. Based on our loose rules, the foul was Manny’s call to make, but Isaiah rarely backed down. Manny knew that. Why not give the other team the point? Wasn’t like we were playing for money.
I had to take a side, but which one would avoid an all-out brawl? I glanced past the men to the chain-link fence and spotted Alessia, Manny’s new girl.
Now it made sense.
“Isaiah. Buddy.” I gestured with my head, and the big man followed me to center court. “Did you see who’s watching us play?”
Sweat glistened on Isaiah’s dark brown skin as he glanced toward the fence. “Who? You mean that hot chick?”
“Manny’s new girlfriend.”
Isaiah nodded in appreciation, then frowned. “You saying I should let him call a fake foul, just because he wants to get laid?”
“Pretty good motivation, no?” I grinned. “Can’t you give him one? Let the dude look good in front of his girl?”
Isaiah’s eyes narrowed. “Why the fuck would I do that?”
