Page 7 of The Tip-Off
“Are parties my thing?”
He nods.
“Yes. Well, I want them to be. I’ve only been to the one and I wasn’t a student yet. So, this is my first official college party. I’m officially a fan, though. There’s something so magical about the bass of the music and people dancing and having a good time. Well, everyone but you.”
“I’m having a fine time.”
“Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special. You’re having afinetime. At least I don’t have to worry about you telling anyone how awful our date was.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because you don’t talk much.”
“Burn,” he says and his lips curve into another smile. “I’m a man of few words.” Palming the ball in one hand, he raises it toward me like he’s pointing. “How about the best date I’ve been on in four years?”
“Well, then you’d just be lying.”
He raises a brow and then turns to shoot without speaking.
I dribble and bring the ball up, pausing before I send the ball sailing to the basket. “This is the only date you’ve been on since then, isn’t it?”
I remember the guys giving him shit once about never dating, but I’d assumed they were exaggerating the situation.
He winks and keeps rebounding his ball and putting it back. He’s gotten into it now and is shooting like he’s at practice. Basketball in dress clothes – it’s a good look.
“So, parties aren’t your thing, dating isn’t your thing, what is your thing?” He opens his mouth to tell me what I already know, but I stop him. “Besides basketball.”
He shakes his head. “It’s my only thing.”
“If you had to give up food or basketball, which would you choose?”
He dribbles as he answers. “I’d die without food.”
“Some things are worth dying for.”
A deep chuckle echoes in the gym. “So, basketball for three weeks… maybe less since I’ll be wasting away or a lifetime without it?”
“Mhmmm.”
“That’s savage.”
“That’s what makes it such a good question. You can learn a lot about a person by what they’re willing to give up for the things they really love.”
He agrees with a head bob and another quiet chuckle and goes back to focusing on the basketball goal.
“Peanut butter or jelly?”
“Both.”
“That’s cheating. You can only pick one.”
“Peanut butter.”
“Show up to class naked or knee to the balls?”
“Class naked.” He shivers like the other option is too awful to contemplate.
I keep firing off questions and he answers – not in a lot of words, but I’m getting used to the subtle way his body language says what he doesn’t. Right now, he’s relaxed, and he thinks I’m at least a little bit funny. I can work with that.
