Page 13 of Playing to Win
Chapter 5
“Man, Kelly, you’re dragging today. What is with you?” Jamal tossed the ball Kyle’s way.
“I told you. I had a long night,” Kyle said, shooting the ball and watching it clang off the back of the iron.
“Doin’ what? Last I checked, you had a date with your old ass cat and some ramen. Did something happen I’m not aware of?”
“I just helped a friend out with something, that’s all.”
“Hmmm, that sounds fishy. Did this friend happen to be a cute member of the opposite sex who played you in a game of horse?” Jamal grabbed Kyle’s rebound and dribbled to the top of the key. Doing one of his signature cross-over moves, he pulled up at the free throw line and drained a jumper.
“How’d you know about that?”
“I got to practice early this morning and Bernie was here, spewing rainbows and sunshine about some cute little girl you had here with you last night after the fancy shindig. After you told me you was going home to your bed. Care to share?”
“If you already knew, then why did you ask?” Kyle asked, picking up the ball and dribbling it between his legs before passing it behind his back to Jenkins, who went up for a two-handed dunk.
“Because I wanted to know if you’d tell the truth. Who was the little hottie you got all hot and bothered with your charms? Was it one of the season ticket holders? One of their daughters?”
“Wrong. Think again.”
“Come on, Dimples. What gives? You’re not usually one to kiss and not tell.”
“I’ve always been a gentleman, Jenkins. I don’t know what made you think otherwise.”
“The fact that I’m your best friend and you’ve always told me. Especially when it comes to the opposite sex. Gentleman or otherwise, you know women can be crazy. You have to have a soundin’ board. And I am your soundin’ board. So sound off.”
Kyle rubbed the back of his neck. After staying at Curly’s apartment until six-thirty in the morning to help her study, he left there with enough time to go home, eat another bowl of Lucky Charms, feed Garth again, and take a cold shower to wake himself up. He was running off pure adrenaline alone. He didn’t know how he was going to make it through practice.
“It wasn’t someone at the meet and greet. Well, it was, but not a ticket holder. It was one of the cheerleaders.”
“What? There were only two there that night. The red-headed hottie with the rack and the little blonde vixen that hates us all. Did you go home with red?”
Kyle debated about what to tell his best friend. He knew Jamal could keep a secret, that wasn’t the point. He just couldn’t help but think what he had with Curly was special. And he didn’t know if he wanted to share it with anyone right now. But he also knew that Jenkins would keep hounding him until he spilled the beans or worse, would get the other guys on his case about it. That, Kyle knew he did not want.
“Okay, okay, man. Chill. I was with—”
“With who? I know it wasn’t just your cat. Now. Spill.”
“All right! I was with Curly!”
Jamal put the ball on his hip and looked at him like he was an idiot. “Curly? As in Larry, Moe, and Three Stooges Curly? What game you tryin’ to play on me, man? I thought we were friends.”
“No, no. Not Three Stooges Curly, you idiot. Curly, as in vixen. You know, Curly. Curly hair.” Kyle made a spiral motion with his fingers up by his hair. The way Jamal was looking at him, it was obvious he wasn’t getting it. “I went to the parking garage last night, fully prepared to go home to my, as you call him, old-ass cat, and ramen. Which, by the way, is probably why he bites your feet every time you come over.”
“Either that or he’s evil.”
“Anyway, when I got to my car, I realized I had left my wallet and phone in my locker. As I was walking back to get them, she ran right into me. Her crap went flying out of her purse—bag thingy. I guess you could call it that. It was big enough to fit a small assault rifle in the thing. She was rude and obnoxious—”
“You mean she didn’t fall at your feet and kiss the ground you walked on? Imagine that. Some female realizing that Kyle Kelly’s shit smells like er’body else’s shit. I think I like this Curly.”
“Are you going to let me finish?”
Jamal waved his hand in a go on gesture as he began shooting free throws.
“So anyway, she was really rude and said she didn’t date athletes and said I was full of myself.”
Jamal held both his hands up to his cheeks with his mouth wide open in an O. “Oh. My. Gawd. The nerve,” he said in his best Hilary of the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air voice.
