Page 78 of The Fadeaway
Katrina’s eyes dart around us as we walk through campus toward the English building. “Sorry what?”
I take her backpack that she insisted on carrying herself, from her shoulder and place it on the ground in front of us. Taking her hands, I stop and force her to look at me. “I asked what your schedule was like today? What’s going on with you? You’ve been acting weird since I parked the car. You embarrassed to be seen with me, Kitty?”
Her gaze previously focused past me, snaps to mine. “What? That’s ridiculous. No.”
“Then what is it? You’re practically running to class and looking around like you’re afraid someone is going to see you.”
“People are staring at us,” she says and motions with her head to a group of girls who are indeed looking our way. One of the baseball guys, Clark, passes by and juts his chin up in greeting. “Correction.Everyoneis staring at us.”
“They’re not staring at us. They’re staring at me.” I shrug. I’m used to it. I mean, when you’re as tall as I am, you can’t walk around without people staring. Plus, I’m a social guy so most of them I’ve hung out with or talked to – the others just know who I am.
She glances around as if verifying my claim. “God, what a life you live,” she says with a smirk.
Letting go of her hands, I wrap mine around her back and pull her closer. “Not gonna lie, it’s a good life, Kitty. Better when you stay the night and I get to walk you to class.”
I have to bend down to place my lips on hers. She hesitates and the idea that she might not be into PDA crosses my mind until I hear her sigh and she presses her body to mine. I have zero problem with public displays of anything, so I let my hands travel down to her ass and I pull her hard against me while I sweep my tongue into her mouth.
When she finally breaks contact, she’s heavy-lidded and breathless. “I’m gonna be late.”
She doesn’t move and I chuckle as she stares at my lips. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips and instead of doing what I want to do – continue to kiss her senseless – I pick up her bag.
“Come on, Kitty.”
After my morning class, I head home. Katrina picked up an extra shift at the café and I don’t have to be back at the gym until later, so I’m bored. I find Z shooting hoops in our home gym. Shocker.
I grab a ball from the rack and join him. It’s only a half court so it isn’t like he doesn’t see me, but the only acknowledgment I get is his movement to the left side of the basket giving me the other side.
I don’t usually push Z into talking, but today I need someone to bounce my thoughts off of.
“You think I’m hurting my chances of being drafted if I stay and finish college?”
He doesn’t stop shooting as he answers. “Of being drafted? No. If you stay healthy and your numbers are anywhere close to as good as they are now, someone will pick you up. When we win the tournament this year, there will be a lot of press and that might help you get a better deal, but…”
His words trail off and I mull them over. Z always talks in certainties about us winning. It’s like he’s got God’s ear or maybe he’s just that fucking sure of himself and his ability to carry us to victory. Do I need a better deal? I mean obviously I want a sweet contract, but the dream was always to play in the NBA not sign a multi-million contract.
“Still undecided?”
I nod and take a shot that bounces around the rim and out.
“It’d be pretty sweet if we were both starting our rookie seasons next year.”
“You gonna actually get out next year, maybe date or at least strike up a conversation with a chick?”
He grunts.
“It’s not going to get easier to tell the good ones from the jersey chasers. Might want to consider settling down before you’re a millionaire.”
I’m not even sure that’s why he’s avoided chicks thus far and his face gives nothing away.
He stops shooting and looks me dead on. “That what you’re doing with Katrina?”
Cock my head to the side. “I’d hardly call a couple dates settling down.”
He raises both eyebrows and stares me down with a look that calls bullshit.
“Part of me is ready to give all this up and move on, but the other part feels like I’m taking the shortcut.” Like I’ve always done. Easy, uncomplicated, whatever got me the most satisfaction in the moment. That pretty much sums up my life. Especially my relationships. I’ve worked hard at ball and school, but never with women. Not since Polly. Thinking about Katrina and how much harder everything is for her haunts me. I look for the path of least resistance because of one bend in the road. Okay, it was more like a fucking sinkhole, but the way I let it change me… I let it change me like Polly was my Vesper. And fuck that.
Yes, I’m comparing myself to James Bond. Cars, money, women. I’m not an assassin, but I’m deadly from the three-point line so we’ll call that basically the same thing.
