She sighed loudly, frustrated. “What did you want?”
He snorted and she knew her question had come out wrong. His answer came back flat and indifferent. “You texted me, so I was calling you back.”
“I texted you at like eleven forty-three,” Mina said, leaving the question of what had taken him so long lingering.
“I was in the library, Mina. My phone was off.”
“Oh. Are you just getting back?”
Her heart leapt knowing he'd really been studying, but Brian's reply was even more sterile.
“No, Mina. I left the library at one-thirty. Went to Sonic. Had a burger with mayonnaise, onions, ketchup, mustard, and lettuce ... oh, and cheese. Then ...”
“Okay, I get it, Brian.” Mina rolled her eyes.
“Like I said, I was hitting you back. What did
you
want?”
Mina sucked her teeth. She didn't think Brian heard her mumbled, “not this,” but he said, “What does that mean?”
She hesitated, not sure whether to be dead honestâBrian's perpetual philosophyâor just let it go.
He persisted, angrier than before. “What? What didn't you want, Mina?”
“Nothing,” Mina said quietly, refusing to be bullied into honesty.
“ 'Cause if you didn't want me acting all bitchass on the phone, then you might have thought a little about how you came at me.”
“I'm sorry,” she said, managing to keep herself from bawling until Brian reprimanded her with a terse, “Why you dogging me out with all this attitude?”
She swiped at the fat tears wobbling down her face. Her silence served as fuel to Brian's rant.
“My schedule is mad crazy, Mina. When I have time to call you I do. When I don't, I
don't
.” His words flowed fast, as if they'd been held back too long. “If I promised to call you every night at eleven and then couldn't, you'd be pissed. I'm trying cut the drama”âhe scoffedâ“or thought I was by calling you when I can. What do you want me to do, make promises I can't keep?”
Mina swallowed hard, refusing to let Brian hear the tears in her voice. “I didn't ask you to make me any promises, Brian.” She hugged her knees to her chest and laid her head on them. It calmed her, drying the tears. “You act like you're the only one who's busy.”
“Obviously you got time on your hands if you sitting around getting mad at me because I don't hit you right back.You need to get out more, Toughie.”
Mina's head reared back, as if he'd smacked her. She scowled in the darkness. Forgetting the late hour, her voice rose. “I
am
busy.” Her head shook side to side with every word. “And I try to only send you a message when I
think
you can hit me back. But you never do.” She folded her arms, huffing. “When you finally have
time
it's hella late. I can't keep falling asleep in class 'cause I'm up late talking to
you
.”
“Then don't,” he said.
Mina forced back the lump working its way up her throat.
“What is that supposed to be, a breakup hint?”
“There you go, always reading into what I say.” He chuckled snidely. “If I was breaking up with you, I'd say it straight out.”
Mina's head slumped back onto her knees. She hated just how relieved she felt that he hadn't called her bluff. She closed her eyes and waited for her heart to beat normal before she said, “Then what are you saying?”
“Just what I said, don't stay up late talking to me.”
She had no response to his wooden statement. Her pulse pounded in her temples. She ached from all she wanted and couldn't haveâan apology from Brian for being pissy at her frustration, a promise that he'd do better to call or text even if it was just to say hello, a time machine to go back and answer the phone differently.
The silence between them grew, lulling Mina to sleep.
Brian's voice, irritated, roused her seconds later. “Mina? You still there?”
“Yeah,” she said, forcing herself to attention.
“Look, you said you needed to talk to me. That's why I called,” Brian said. “I wouldn't have called back so late, but I thought maybe something was wrong.”
Just like that, the storm passed.
The concern in his voice touched Mina. But her mind was too muddled to dredge up the multitude of emotions she'd been feeling about Michael's bombshell. The urgency she'd felt to share with Brian was long gone. It seemed almost like it had been ages ago instead of only four hours.
“Nothing's wrong,” she said simply.
“You just wanted to give me grief for not calling enough,” he said, but Mina heard the joke in his voice.
She chuckled. “Something like that.”
She stretched out her legs and slid back down beneath the covers. The phone stayed put on her ear as she lay there, the chill of the pillow cooling her other cheek. Her eyes grew heavy again and a yawn escaped before she could bite it back.
“I'm not gon' keep you up... .” Brian said.
His reluctance to simply hang up made her smile. “I didn't mean to come at you like that,” she said.
“It's a'ight. I know how nasty you get when you're sleepy.”
“Me?” She snort-laughed. “I know you're not talking.”
“Hmmph, yes I am too. At least I don't get all spoiled and snippy like a toy poodle.” He yapped like a small dog and Mina had to laugh into her pillow to muffle her voice.
“That's not right.”
“Go 'head to bed, Toughie. I ain't messing with you no more.”
“Do you love me?” Mina asked softly. She caressed her pillow, wishing Brian were beside her.
“What you think?” He snickered. “That I just enjoy getting bitched out at three-thirty in the morning?”
“No. But can you answer anyway?”
“Yeah, I love you, Mina.You be dogging me out sometimes, but I love you.”
“I love you too,” she said dreamily. Her lids drooped.
“Go 'head before you end up falling asleep on me ... again.”
“You hung up on me,” Mina said in a drowsy pout.
His chuckle was sweet. “I'm sorry.”
Mina smiled. “We swazy?”
“All day ... till the next time.”
“Very funny,” Mina said, alert for a second.
“Bye, Toughie. I love you.”
“Love you too. See you,” Mina said before hitting End.
Seconds later she was in a deep sleep, the phone curled under her chin. Later that morning, it would be the only proof that her late-night exchange with Brian hadn't been a dream.
Ante Up
“'Cause you dig the hole you're in.”
âEye Level, “The Hole You're In”
Â
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J
Z's hand jumped across the paper as his father's voice rang throughout their large house like it was a cottage.
“Jason, get down here.”
JZ cursed at the blotchy scratch the pen left on his homework, something to add to the thousand other things Mr. Collins would have over his head in Advanced Placement Calculus. He couldn't avoid getting the prissy theatre instructor for math to save his life.
He balled the paper up and threw it in the trash can. He'd have to redo it.
I don't feel like hearing his mouth,
JZ thought sourly.
“Jason,” his father roared.
“Speaking of hearing somebody's mouth,” JZ muttered.
His grumbling belied the fear pounding in his chest. His father was angry. JZ didn't know why, and if he could have put off finding out he would have, but he couldn't. He trudged down the stairs, putting pep in his step as he got closer to the kitchen, where his parents stood.
His father's eyebrows were a unibrowed scowl in his cinnamon-complexioned face; his mother's a worried knit. She sent waves of sympathy JZ's way in her tiny smile.
His father held a thin sheaf of papers in his clenched hand.
“Yes?” JZ asked.
“Boy, what in hell is wrong with you?” his father said, the unibrow wrinkling further.
JZ leaned on the counter in the middle of the kitchen, keeping his distance. “What did I do?”
His mind raced over the possibilities and kept going back to Mr. Collins. Mr. Collins hated him. But JZ couldn't think of anything he'd done to incur his wrath recently. He was maintaining a solid B in AP Calc.
What more do they want?
he thought, annoyed.
“Did you ride up to College Park a few weeks ago?” his father said.
JZ's adam apple jumped as he swallowed. His hand went to his head and slid down, rubbing his low cut, over and over, a sure sign he was anxious. “Yeah ... I drove Mina up there to see Brian,” JZ said.
The elder Jason Zimms looked at his son with an expression of scorn usually reserved for idiots and bad drivers. “And you talked to Coach K while you were there?”
“All I said was hello, for real,” JZ said. His hand brushed at his hair. Up, slide down, up, slide downâspeeding up when his father slammed down the papers he held in his hand.
“You're not stupid, right?” His father's lips pursed as if he felt JZ was just that.
JZ remained silent.
“Jason,” his mother said, seeing her chance to play peacemaker. “You know it's evaluation period. The coach isn't allowed to have any contact with you unless it's planned.”
“Ma, I know that,” JZ said, rolling his eyes. “No contact beyond hello. I said hello and then I started talking to a few players I met last year when we visited the campus.”
His eyes jumped nervously to his father, whose nostrils flared as he shook his head, clearly disappointed. “I ... I didn't violate the rules ... you know I know the deal,” JZ said.
“No, what you think you know is how to do what you please,” his father said. He leveled a look at JZ that made his head ache. “I've got eyes and ears everywhere. One of the assistant coaches called me, said you hadn't violated the rules, but that he thought he better give me a head's up, remind you to steer clear to keep rumors at bay.” He picked the papers back up, tapping them against his palm. His voice took on the condescending tone of a parent intent on pointing out just how stupid his kid's actions were. “When he called, I was like nooo, Paul, you must be mistaken. I know
my
son didn't do anything that stupid, like go to the campus of one of Duke's biggest rivals and parade up to Coach K for all the world or any Terrapin staff member to see... .” His right eyebrow stretched so high JZ thought it might get stuck. “Noo, not
my
son. Because if a Terrapin staff member saw that and recognized him, since they're
also
recruiting him, it wouldn't be anything for them to claim Duke was violating policy. Oh sure, it would mean the recruit is dead to them too ... but what the hell? If Maryland can't have him, may as well not let their biggest rival have him either. No loss; moving on to the next hot recruit.”
JZ's mouth went dry. His hand dropped from his head to the counter with a meaty thud. “I ...”
“You what? Didn't think about that?” His father stared him down until JZ looked away.
“I know you didn't think about it. It doesn't matter that you didn't violate the rule, Jason. If someone reported it, by the time the whole matter was resolved, you'd be out of the loop, sitting out the season at some Division Two school or worse, a small-time college in the boondocks because you wanted to play big shot.” He brushed his shoulder and popped his collar, imitating a young buck with lots of swag. “Yeah, look at me, man. I know the coaches. Watch me go up and say hey. I'm cool as hell.”
“I ... it wasn't like that,” JZ said, lamely. “I ... Mina wanted to see Brian and I was helping her out.”
His father nodded. “Well, Duke plays North Carolina next week in the finals.You want to give her a ride down there, so she can see him? Give UNC the chance to turn you in too?”
Anger and shame welled in JZ's chest. He chewed on his cheek, gnawing at it until it hurt. “My bad,” he mumbled.
“Pssh, your bad.” The anger in his father's face was palpable. “No, your bad is going to be you sitting in some tiny, no-name college dorm room reading over the recruitment letters from all the big Division One schools that
used
to want you. Wallowing in what could have been if you hadn't been playing Mr. Big Dick.”
JZ's mother blanched.
JZ grit his teeth, looking his father in the eye as he finished.
“Do something that stupid again and you won't have to worry about somebody turning you in. I'll send you to a little school in the boonies just because, Jason.” He gritted on JZ one more time for good measure. “Don't think I won't.”
He walked out of the kitchen, his long confident stride a duplicate of his son's assertive swag.
When his footsteps reached the stairs, JZ's mother walked to the counter. Her cool hand rubbed his. “You know he doesn't mean it, Jay.” Her eyes smiled reassuringly. “He's just angry about how bad this could have gone.”
“He doesn't know what he wants.” JZ scowled. “One minute he's talking about keeping my grades up and having a plan besides professional ball. Then he's sitting there tripping about this.” Horrified to feel tears burning his eyes, he blinked furiously, fighting them off. “If education so important, than why is he tripping so hard? I can get an education and play ball at
any
school.”
“Because he does want you to play ball at a school where you might have the chance to get picked up by a professional team. He just doesn't want that to be your only goal.” His mother's hand patted his gently. “Don't let the way he tells you things cloud the message, Jason. He's angry because you could have ruined your chances. But don't go getting mad because you were told the truth ... what you did wasn't very smart.”
JZ hung his head. He stared down at the granite countertop, letting his mother stroke his hand a few seconds longer before standing up straight, sliding his hand away.
“Maybe it wasn't, but I didn't violate the rules.” His jaw jutted stubbornly, but his eyes pleaded with his mom. “Isn't that more important than what didn't happen?”
“Only because no one saw you, Jason. And we don't know that, for sure.”
The thought sent panic racing across JZ's chest. “Well ... it was dark. Nobody could have seen me,” he said, mind churning, thinking back to the night. It was too fuzzy, too many days gone, but he still felt somewhat confident there'd been no spies lurking to report on a single passerby saying hello to Coach K.
“No sense worrying about it now,” his mother said, reading his fear. “Just don't do anything like this again.You'll be declaring your school soon; don't endanger your options.”
She walked around the side of the counter to where he stood. He towered over her, a full foot and a half. She reached up and held his chin in her hand. “You have homework to do?”
He shook his head, lying. “Can I run out?”
She tugged gently on his chin and he obliged her with a peck on the cheek.
“I'm cooking dinner in a bit, so don't be long.”
“Okay, I won't.”
“Have fun,” she said, as he walked out of the kitchen and through the front door.
His legs pumped, conquering the long driveway in record time. Normally, he'd shoot some ball, go jogging, or lift weights to work off the wiry ball of fury lodged in his chest. But the thought of touching a basketball made his mouth upturn in a bitter grimace.
He didn't want to hear the word
basketball,
much less play with one, right now.
His father was always sending him mixed signals. One minute practically disavowing the importance of basketball in JZ's life, then, the next, going out of his way to ensure JZ remained on track to strengthen his hardwood skills. Keeping up with which mood his father was in left him emotionally spent, and working as hard on his schoolwork as his athletic prowess added to the burden.
He needed to do something that didn't require thinking.
His stride long, he quick-stepped up Dogwood Street, unbothered by the shadows thrown by the spidery limbs of the naked trees looming overhead in the dimming sunlight. The street was deadly silent until he came to the neighborhood's park. A few parents were out with their kids on the playground, taking advantage of daylight's last remnants. Otherwise the park was quiet. Even on cold winter days, like today, there was usually some action on the courts or fields. But both the basketball courts and baseball diamond were devoid of anything athletic.
Grim satisfaction quelled some of his anger.
If I'm not playing today, nobody is,
he thought smugly.
He walked until Dogwood brought him to the center of the community, an intersection leading out of the Woods, back to his house or down the main road, which broke off into three cul-de-sacs. Michael lived in the second, Mina in the third. JZ walked the main road, intending to turn to Michael's. Maybe game a little to get his mind right.... But his pace quickened past Michael's street, then Mina's.
There was only one thing beyond the third cul-de-sac, more road and twenty more houses, one of them Jacinta's. When he was twenty yards away from her house, he slowed down long enough to put his cool back on. It's not like he was going to cry like a sucker on Jacinta's shoulder. He just needed to get away from his own crib for a hot minute.
He walked casually up the empty gravel driveway toward the small, white house and knocked on the door. He leaned closer to the door, listening. Hearing nothing, he went to knock again and jumped when Jacinta opened the door.
“Dang, girl, you ain't have to open it that fast.”
“I wasn't aware there was a special speed to open the door.” Jacinta smirked.
JZ's heart bumped in his chest. He looked down on Jacinta, from half-closed eyelidsâhis cool faceâtaking in all of her curves. She had on a pair of navy blue cotton shorts, the kind the cheerleading squad always wore to practice, knee socks with blue and gold stripes, and a Blue Devils Track tee shirt. His eyes lingered on her naked thighs, savoring the peek of skin.
Jacinta's right eyebrow popped up. “Ahem. So you're coming in or I'm supposed to freeze to death while you wait for an invitation?”
JZ sauntered in. “An invitation would have been nice.”
Jacinta walked into a small family room and plopped down on a love seat. She spread her arms out wide. “Consider yourself invited.”
JZ sat beside her, taking up what was left of the small space on the half couch. “What's up, girl?”
“Shoot, I was gonna ask you,” she said. “You coming to see me? Wow, what did I do to deserve this?”
JZ slid out of his coat and draped it over the arm of the love seat. “Real talk, my parents were straight buggin' and I had to evacuate.” He breathed noisily through his nose, glad to get it off his chest, telling Jacinta the short version of his father kirkin' out. She listened without asking questions or pressing for additional information, which was why he enjoyed her company. There was a moment of silence, at the end of his tale, and he became aware how quiet the house wasâno television or radio played. “So you chillin' solo? Where's Mina and the girls?”