Page 12 of Solace in Seven
“What?”
“A fuckin’ middle schooler or something, Hendrix.”
I shook my head. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand. Every time I turn on the fuckin’ TV or look at my phone, niggas got me out here lookin’ like a joke.”
“So, make sure you’re the one who has the last laugh,” she declared.
“How, when I have to play on a team that hasn’t been to a single championship since 1987, and their best player averages maybe eight points a game?”
“Well, maybe it’s time for you to go there with your head held high and show everybody who doubted you just what you can do. You already said you made the Mambas a franchise in four years, right?What makes you think you can’t do that in Kansas City with your new team in less time than that?”
I responded with a shrug even though I knew she was right. Rising to leadership meant there was a bullseye on my back, and I wasn’t going to let that shit stop me from making my own rules no matter whose jersey I wore in the upcoming season. Even on vacation, I made sure I still got in as much of a vigorous workout as I could without my physical therapist around, and when it was time to pack up and head out to Kansas, I’d be in perfect condition and ready to play my heart out.
“Am I right or am I right?” Cassidy asked, waiting for a verbal response.
“You are.”
“To quote my favorite movie, ‘Life’s funny sometimes. You just don’t want it laughin’ at you,’” she claimed.
“Your favorite movieThe Wood? I probed.
She shrugged her lean shoulders. “You can’t be from Inglewood and not have that at least in your top five favorite movies of all time,” she declared.
I bobbed my head in agreeance. “Shit, you right. That’s my favorite movie, too. What’s your favorite line?”
“That’s a hard question and you know it. That shit had way too many iconic lines.”
“First one that comes to mind, then,” I tested her.
“Aight, aight. Um,” she paused, “‘you think my sister a hoe or somethin’? You think she a fuckin’ toy!’” she yelled.
I threw my hands up in defense. “Nah, man I think she purdy!” I replied, pretending to be the young, country-ass Mike from the flashback with him and Stacey in the movie.
My neck tossed back with laughter, ridding the air of all the awkward tension we’d built up with a simple shared interest.
After we’d come down from our shared laugh, she spoke up again. “You wanna know what I remember?”
“What?”
“The game right before the winter formal, like my sophomore yearor something. You guys were down like thirty points and you’d sprained your?—”
“Right wrist in the second quarter,” I added.
“Yup, and what did you do?”
“Shit, I kept playing. I couldn’t let us go out like that.”
“I remember actually feeling bad for you because I could see how much pain you were in just by looking at you, but you wouldn’t give up. You just kept playing your little heart out.”
“Don’t get it twisted, ain’t nothin’ about me little, but I feel you. We went on to dog they asses by like twenty points in the end, too,” I boasted.
“Exactly. So, if you didn’t give up with a sprained wrist, why are you giving up so easily now?” she probed.
Cassidy laid it on thick, but it was the shit I needed to hear. I could tell myself the same shit a million times a day, but it hit different coming from someone else’s mouth. Most of the people around me were more concerned about how the trade would affect my money instead of me. Who knew Cassidy would have been the first and only one to make me feel good about the next change in my career.
“Nah, you right. You’re absolutely right. Fuck that shit, I'll be back on top soon!”
“I’m sure you will. How’s your knee by the way?”
