Page 51 of Full Court Love
“Lucy, I’m keeping you as far away from the inevitable aftermath as possible. This is my mess. I’m used to dealing with it. It’s nothing new for me. I just have to get through the weekend.”
“Wait—why just the weekend? You mean the game? You’ve been playing so well—that’s going to be great. Don’t worry about that.”
His smile turns bitter. “I really wish that was possible. But I have a feeling it won’t be the case now.”
He holds up a text that came in an hour ago.
Your mom and I are coming to the Wake Forest game. See
you soon.
I wrap Jordan in another smothering hug. It’s the only thing I can think to do. I don’t know how to find any words of comfort because I’m not even sure what’s coming. I just know that in all likelihood, it’s going to be bad.
Jordan predicted all of this.
The devil works fast, but Sasha and Mr. Mitchell work faster.
CHAPTER 22
JORDAN
When I was ten, I got a cavity and had to go to the dentist. They gave me one numbing shot. Then another. But no matter how much lidocaine was injected, it wouldn’t go numb, so they just filled it anyway, and I lay there like a willing victim of torture.
Every time I went to the dentist after that, I couldn’t sleep the entire week leading up.
That’s how I feel this week.
I think if given the choice between my dad’s presence at this very important game and a cavity filling with no numbing, I might actually choose the excruciating physical pain. At least that only hurts me and not the people around me.
This week has been bizarre for another reason besides the overwhelming dread. I’m now a legitimate celebrity on campus. Not just a well-known athlete, but someone people are asking for autographs and pictures. I’ve even seen a few videos pop up online that I had no idea were being taken of me studying and crossing the street.
And if Lucy and I are together? We get mobbed. The online reaction has been nothing short of ludicrous. All it does is make me feel nauseated. And debilitatingly guiltybecause Lucy should be reveling in this–not that she’s the “reveling in her own fame” type. But this is going to be huge for her future endorsement deals in the WNBA. Her follower count has quadrupled, and national brands are starting to notice.
Unfortunately, so are creepy guys.
But the fact that I’m the one holding her and stroking her back while we read their messages takes away any level of jealousy and replaces it with humor, mixed with a lot of disgust. I’m still appalled at the things this girl has to deal with on a daily basis. Yet even scrolling through these messages with her is weirdly fun.
She’s the only one who can take my mind off the train wreck I know is coming.
When I’m with Lucy, all I see or think about is her.
Her laugh, her smile, her sarcasm–they inevitably bring light when I’m in a dark place.
The problem is that when I’m not with her, my brain is flooded with thoughts of how she might become collateral damage in this whole ordeal. My dad doesn’t know we’re together–although maybe from all the online buzz, he does now.
I don’t know how much he’d be willing to try to use or manipulate Lucy, but I do hope I never have to find out. That’s the discouraging conclusion I keep coming to. If her association with me could hurt her at all, I don’t know if I could live with myself.
I also don’t know if I could live without her anymore.
What do you do when your whole life feels like it’s in black and white and then someone comes along and injects it with color? You hold on to them with everything you have. I desperately want to do that, but what I want more than anything is for Lucy to be happy and have an incredible life.
I think maybe that’s love.
As I stroll to the arena, scrolling through messages fromher, I say a silent prayer that her idea of a happy and incredible life is with me. The random facts she sends make me smile. The times she texts me that my butt looks good in my uniform brings heat to my face. The sweet encouragement she gives me makes me believe I can take on the world.
I push open the arena doors and smile as I remember our last conversation.
She was going through flashcards for the LSAT with me. No one else knows, but I’m preparing to apply to law school. My parents are under the impression I’m going to continue playing professionally overseas, but I’ve already come to terms with the inevitable end to my basketball career. I’m ready to step toward a new court–Lucy came up with that terrible pun.