Page 20 of Definitely Not a Thing
One little loss of control.
And now my whole life was in lmbo.
As I bent to grab the ball, Arthur’s voice rang out again, “Don’t pull nothing out there – you getting up in age, and you’ll find out the recovery is slower than it used to be.”
“Nigga,” I muttered under my breath, shaking my head as I stood. “What’s the problem, man?” I asked, heading in his direction. “You ain’t even said good morning, just straight to some bullshit.”
Instead of contrition, I got laughter. “I forgot you like to fight. Don’t come over here thinking I ain’t got nothing for you though, youngin.”
“Youjustsaid I wasgetting up in age,” I countered, chuckling.
“For your profession,” he clarified. “By the time you get back, them young cats gone be running circles aroundMr. Crossover.”
I scoffed. “The only time anybody getting one up on me is theirwildestdreams, don’t even play with me like that.”
He tugged at the brim of hisArthur’s Tree Servicehat and nodded. “Confidence still intact, okay.”
“Where else would it be?” I questioned, and he tossed his hands up.
“It was supposed to be a compliment.”
“Felt like a jab.”
“A jab would be reminding you that you still need an S and an E,” he cackled. “All that confidence, missing wide open shots. What would Coach Lewis have to say aboutthat?”
“Manfu—” I groaned, and shut my damn mouth.
Nobody out here was reporting anything back, but still – it was better to not get comfortable letting how I really felt aboutthatmotherfucker come so freely off my lips.
But.
FuckCoach Lewis.
While Arthur laughed, I jogged back to my mark.
Lined up my shot.
Made it.
Rebounded.
Made the other.
As easily as I really should’ve made the rest.
In my defense, I was at the end of a long conditioning session – the only reason I was outside in this heat anyway. A few miles through the neighborhood, some sprints on the court, pushups, all that.
Actualshooting practice was later.
Weights another day.
Everything to keep myself in a state that wouldn’t discount me from stepping back into a role I never should’ve been pushed out of… but those were musings for another day.
Today, right now, I had a perfect vantage point of Amelia descending the front steps, pretty thighs on full display. She was wearing an oversized crew neck that covered all except a little peek of her shoulder and the very bottoms of bright yellow shorts that molded to her thighs and popped against her smooth, rich dark brown skin. Yoga mat tucked under her arm.
Arthur let out a low whistle. “You wouldn’t even know what to do with that, boy, I don’t know why you even bothering to look.”
“Nah,” I scoffed. “I knowexactlywhat I’d do –nottell your ass shit, for sure,” I muttered, leaving the ball to head to the sidewalk as she approached it. “Good morning, neighbor.”
