Page 57 of The Fadeaway
Katrina
I’mall smiles as I bring the box from the door to the living room. “Christian, you got mail.”
His eyes light up at the box with his name written in large black letters.
“Who’s it from?”
I already know, but I’m not sure exactly how to explain, so I ignore his question by distracting him. “Let’s see what’s inside!”
As he tries to tear into the box, failing to rip past the heavy mailing tape, I grab scissors from the kitchen and then re-join him on the floor. “Here let me help.”
A few quick cuts and Joel’s scent permeates the air.
Christian dives for the open box, pulling out a mini basketball and a foam finger with the Valley U branding. I can’t help but laugh.
While he’s busy pulling out enough Valley basketball merchandise to outfit an entire cheering crowd, I text Joel.
Me: Thank you. Christian is so excited.
Joel: There’s something in there for you too.
I look over the pile Christian has amassed, spotting one t-shirt that’s clearly too large for my son.
“I think this one is for me,” I tell him as I hold it up in front of me. The t-shirt is like many others I’ve seen, Valley U Basketball screen-printed on the front with our roadrunner mascot, but the back has Moreno and number thirty-three proudly displayed.
Me: I was really hoping for a Zeke Sweets jersey. Where can I get one of those?
Joel: If you show up today in a Sweets jersey, I’m going to spank you later. Fair warning.
My body tingles. At Joel’s hand, I think I might just be okay with a little spanking.
Me: Promise?
I’m goading him, which isn’t really fair because it isn’t like there’s going to be time for that today, but I just can’t help it. Flirting with him is fun.
Joel: Can we hang out after the game?
I’m about to remind him I’ll have Christian when he sends another.
Joel: I’d like to take you and Christian out for pizza after the game since I ruined your game day ritual.
Me: That sounds nice.
And it does. Way, way too nice.
Me: Good luck today. Break a leg or whatever the appropriate sentiment is.
Joel: I can think of all kinds of sentiments I’d like from you.
Jesus, how does he make everything sound so dirty?
Thirty minutes before the game, Christian and I make our way to our seats in Ray Fieldhouse. I had to hand off our tickets to an usher because my hands were shaking so badly I couldn’t read the seat numbers. I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I’m regretting wearing his shirt though. I’m one of about fifty other girls I’ve already spied wearing the same one. I’d felt special as I pulled it over my head and now I just feel like one of many in the Joel Moreno fan club.
“Seats one and two.” The woman hands me the tickets as she stands at the bottom row and motions toward our seats.
I take the tickets and verify she’s not insane. I’d expected seats in the student section, not first row behind the team’s bench. This is too much. Christian is oblivious, of course, and his excitement puts me more at ease as he jumps up and down with the ridiculous cut-out of Joel’s face on a stick. Christian waves it around and points to the floor where Valley is warming up. “There he is!”
Joel waves and dribbles the ball over our direction.
