Page 7 of Play to Win
After disconnecting the call, Portia resigned herself to being here a little while longer. She decided to walk through the entire house while she waited. The moment she stepped upstairs; Portia knew she’d made a mistake. She should have just stayed downstairs.
The room she used to stay in when she was here was exactly the way it had been when she’d last left it. A full-size bed with white iron head and footboards with a pink flowered bedspread sat in the center of the room. The walls were covered in pale pink wallpaper. At the large window were white lace curtains. Portia’s bedroom at the ranch style house she’d lived in with her parents, just six blocks away, had a twin-size bed, a desk and a computer.
Wayne Merin was as frugal as they came. No matter how much money he made working for Nivas Associates, a top lobbyist firm, his house had still functioned in a minimalistic manner. His wife, Judy, abided by Wayne’s every rule, regardless of how their only child may have suffered. Portia had let them down from the moment she was born a girl. In her parents’ mind, her failures continued when she decided to attend Spelman instead of Yale and chose to study psychology and women’s studies, instead of political science.
“You can only walk your path, Ladybug.” Sunny had told her one of the many nights Portia had spent at her house when she was a junior in high school. “At one time Judy and I were as thick as thieves, signing on to fight the injustices in the world side-by-side. Then she met your daddy and Wayne turned her into a totally different woman. Now’s your turn to be the woman you’re meant to be. Not what somebody else expects of you.”
Those were the words that pushed Portia to apply to Spellman and to rejoice the moment she received the acceptance letter.
To pass the time, Portia moved to the closet where she began going through her old boxes, laughing at some things and crying about others. So many memories and feelings were locked in this room. From the many spiral notebooks she’d used as journals to the magazines she’d read before cutting out pictures of her favorite entertainers. One particular picture still had tape on its back and she held it in her hand remembering the Keyshia Cole song simply titledLove, that she’d sung at the top of her lungs almost every time she’d finished a tutoring session with Ethan.
In seconds, her mind was instantly back to those times when she and Ethan sat all the way in the back of the library. He always pulled his chair close to hers so they could share the thick Algebra textbook he’d carried from school as if he actually understood what was going on in that class. She hadn’t been particularly fond of numbers, but once she memorized a formula the rest came pretty simply. The concept of numbers and letters together to create an equation completely baffled Ethan. But he needed to pass the class in order to play and everyone in school wanted him to play. Everyone including her.
“Remember that both sides have exactly the same value,” she’d said one afternoon. She wrote the equation on a piece of paper in pencil.
“How do you know all this stuff?” His question had startled her. She’d always had to try hard to remain focused on the work instead of on the way Ethan looked in his football uniform, or how great his smile was when he was at the table goofing off with his friends in the cafeteria. But now he was staring at her instead of at the paper or the textbook.
“I just know.” She shrugged and tried not to obsess over the faded jeans she wore that were just a little bit too high, and the long-sleeve shirt with the material thinning at the elbows. She’d worn the shirt because it was royal blue, one of her favorite colors and she’d styled her hair in two braids because her natural curls were unruly.
“I mean, do you study all the time? Is that how you know everything? You’re easily the smartest girl in all your classes.” When she looked up at him again it was to see him staring at her ear—both her ears were pierced and she wore cubic zirconia studs in them.
It had taken all her restraint not to reach up and touch the earring self-consciously. Did he know it wasn’t a real diamond? Did he really expect her to wear diamond earrings? While his clothes were definitely more stylish and fit better than hers, Ethan didn’t have a lot of money either, especially not staying at the group home with the rest of his friends.
“I study when I’m supposed to, which is why we’re here right now. You’ve got a quiz tomorrow. I’ve taken Ms. Holback’s Algebra I and II classes, so I know all her tricks. You really have to study the formulas. From there it’ll be easy, just addition, subtraction, multiplication and division. All the basic in math.”
He shook his head. “Nothing about you is basic.”
The comment had taken her so off guard she’d dropped the pencil and sat back in the chair as if she’d been pushed. Ethan had worn a short sleeve t-shirt that day, white and fitted tight across his chest. He lifted weights every day in the gym after school and it showed.
“I’m just me,” was all she’d managed to say. It was probably a very weak remark and she knew Cassidy Lewis and the rest of the cheerleaders would’ve had some practiced coy response instead. They would’ve flipped their long relaxed and styled hair over a shoulder and giggle and Ethan would stare at them like he’d dreamed of them every night. The thought irritated her, and she shrugged again.
“You’re pretty great,” he’d said as if it were a simple truth and she needed to believe it.
She hadn’t, but she’d also never forgotten that he’d said it.
Not even all these years later as she hummed the song in her mind. The sound of a car passing outside had her turning to look out the window. The sun had set and it would be getting dark soon. Time had really flown by as she’d sat here reminiscing. Glancing at her watch she noted it was now close to eight-thirty. Where the hell was Cynthia Curtis?
If there was one thing Portia hated, it was someone disrespecting her time. She picked up her phone to call the agent but paused when she saw the text message that was left an hour and a half ago. Cynthia wasn’t going to make it today. She apologized and assured Portia that they could take care of everything via email if necessary. Irritated that her plan had been changed and undecided as to what to do now, she locked the house and headed for the rental car she’d parked at the curb.
Minutes later, she rode past Main Street and was headed toward the industrial area of town when she passed a bright blue sign that read: Game Changers Bar & Grill. Her stomach growled and she thought about turning around and going into the restaurant to get something to eat. But it was past time for her to leave Providence. As much as the things in her room had made her feel nostalgic, the town still held bad memories. One of which was Ethan, the guy who’d been part of the best of her times here and some of the worst. How ironic that he’d been the first person from this town she saw a few days ago?
Just as her thoughts began to circle back to Ethan and the complicated friendship they’d shared, the car began to swerve and she held tight to the steering wheel to keep from going through the guard rail and down an embankment. There was a loud thumping sound as the vehicle continued to move at a much slower pace, until she finally pressed on the brake to stop. Switching off the ignition, she stepped out of the car. Slamming the door closed, she moved quickly to the front of the car getting out of the way of oncoming traffic whizzing by.
Damn. Damn. Damn!
She almost screamed the words, but instead shook her head as they filtered through her mind. After waiting for the realtor and going through blasts from her past, now she had a flat tire. Her stomach growled again…or was that thunder? She looked up to see that the sky was indeed dark, but not with night. With heavy gray clouds that looked as if they would burst at any moment.
“Please, no. Not now,” she prayed as she went back inside the car to grab her cell phone. AAA was one of her speed dial numbers so she pressed the button and continued to pray that someone would come to help her soon. Like, before the sky opened up and rained on her as a welcome home present.
* * *
“I’m telling you, it was like nonstop sex all damn night,” Rod said after downing his third shot of whiskey.
After the three beers he had while playing darts, and the glass of wine he’d forced himself to drink while trying to score with Meta Haynes, the new fourth grade teacher in town, Rod was slumped over the end of Ethan’s heavily glossed dark oak bar top. His blonde hair was tousled and his fingernails were dirty from working at the construction site all day. One more drink and he was cut off. Ethan had already warned Jeret they were going to need black coffee ready to be poured at any minute. Lance would have to drive Rod home since he lived the closest to the apartment building where Rod stayed.
Nobody left Game Changers drunk with car keys in hand. That was a standing rule the guys decided on when they’d dreamt up the plans for the bar and grill.
“They were coming out of this big room horny as hell and looking for action. And we were just sittin’ in that room harrassin’ Charlie about gettin’ tied down,” Rod continued, his eyes glazed with inebriation and desire.
