by Love Belvin
“I wonder if his tight-ass girlfriend will give him a break,” Blackberry girl hissed, not skipping a beat.
“I wouldn’t give his ass a break,” the driver declared, then threw a flirty expression to the passenger seat girl. They both giggled in a way that told me they were on the same page. “I’d fuck his big sexy ass morning, noon, and night, every day until he leaves for the team who drafts him. He’d be so fucking exhausted from my pussy, he wouldn’t want more for months. And that’s when I’m flying into town, drowning him with more!” They hi-fived each other.
“And he look like he could fuck, too, right!” Passenger seat girl shouted, kicking her feet as she laughed. “Shit! I’d fuck him now, but I don’t wanna rock crybaby Aivery’s world. His dick would be broken if he was mine!” They cracked the hell up.
“I’ve heard about him,” Blackberry girl shared, still more into her phone, it appeared, than this conversation. “And if what I’ve heard is true about how Ashton Spencer likes to fuck, ain’t none of us in here ready for him—and damn sure not Aivery Cooper. What’s crazy is he know he’s blessed with the fuck talent.”
“Fuck!” driver seat girl moaned dramatically.
Dang…
I was annoyed. Is this what college girls talked about? Is that all they saw? I’d spent enough time with Ashton to know there was more to him than his face and body. And I damn sure didn’t care about what he did for or with sex. He was a smart guy—generous, too. How could they skip that?
Ughhhhh!
I was ready to be done with this already! Lucky for me, minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot. It was pretty packed for a weeknight in a town in the middle of nowhere. Once we stepped inside, I discovered something I wish I’d known before letting Samantha talk me into coming out. The restaurant was filled with BSU students. The first person I recognized was Al, standing behind a girl who had no idea he was there, and he yanked her ponytails then ran. The girl’s friends laughed like stupid feminine robots.
Dre was in another area of the diner-looking restaurant, posted up with other guys wearing Panthers’ basketball jackets with a Gucci t-shirt and fresh Timberland boots. He was probably the most fashionable straight guy I knew. His eyes met us at the door, then coolly and quickly, he looked away.
“There’s Krystal. She saved us seats.” Passenger seat girl motioned for us to follow her.
I was the last in line, the tallest, too, following behind these giddy girls. We walked to the last booth against the wall alongside the entrance door. There was a bit of shuffling before it all stopped.
“Wait.” One girl, Krystal, whom I’d only seen a few times on campus held a puzzled face. “It can only hold seven people. You brought four.”
The driver girl turned to Samantha, then to me. When Samantha looked at me with apologetic eyes, I understood. Krystal had a friend with her already at the table. I was the unexpected party.
“No sweat,” I mumbled, shaking my head. “I’ll stand.”
“You sure?” Samantha’s face was tight. “We can find a couple of seats somewhere else.”
I scanned the restaurant. It was so full, quite a few people were standing and mingling. I wouldn’t stick out that much.
“Ain’t no seats in here.” I used my head to point to the table. “Go ‘head. Talk to your friends. I’m okay. I’ll just stand here.”
I tried to ignore the concern in Samantha’s eyes and looked away.
“C’mon, Sam,” one of the girls encouraged her. “We’ll eat and mingle, then go.”
Trying to look occupied, my eyes kept swinging to the far right of the restaurant. Artificial plants, high and low booths, black and white striped walls, and the same colors on the checkerboard floor made the place look cool. And the smell! I knew I’d get hungry at some point in the evening. Coming here meant I’d miss most of the restaurants on campus. The big cafeteria would be closed by the time we made it back. And the ones still open would’ve been a hike for me to walk. I was screwed without money.
At the same time I could see Samantha finally sit in my peripheral, I caught eyes with a tight face I could now spot a mile away—something I hated. Dark eyes shooting right at me. They held me for a minute, making my body feel crazy. My underarms misted and breaths felt shallow. Golden fingers with long, almond, burgundy nails reached up to his face and pulled it low. Aivery’s face appeared, golden highlights up in a messy bun when she kissed him on the lips. I watched her eyes close and cheeks lift in contentment when their mouths met. His tanned and hers the same color as her nails. When I looked inches up to his eyes, I saw they were still on me while he was connected to her. And that’s when my eyes swiped away, lids blinking hard and uncontrollably.
Why had I been staring for so long? What was wrong with me? He was probably thinking, in that moment, I was a weird human. I am a weird human. And apparently a nosey one. I tried to play it cool and continued to peruse the restaurant. The garlic and dough, Ashton kissing…it all had me feeling wavy. Somehow my stupid eyes found him again, and again, he was staring at me like he’d never stopped. If I had money, now, I’d use it for a cab back to campus.
Do they have taxis out here?
A few minutes later, I was still standing by the girl’s booth with my hands in my jacket pockets. My legs were good. I figured I could do this for another hour—one and a half at the most. More than that, I’d snap and go crazy.
“Hey, y’all!” I lifted my head to find Dre leaning over the table, smiling at the girls.
“Hey!” They all seemed to greet him in return at the same time.
“What y’all doing out?” He sounded to be flirting. “I usually see this crew by the MLK Atrium in the library. Science girls, right?”
I decided then and there to tune them out. Dre never acknowledged me anyway. Watching the staff behind the glass ordering counter appealed to me more in the moment. There had to be about twelve of them back there, bustling with orders. I wondered were they hiring. These days, I always looked for jobs, hating them all.
“Let me order you something, Saaaaam.” The way Dre pronounced my roommate’s name made my skin crawl.
“Ummmm…” she hummed, with a girlie giggle in her voice. “Sure. A personal veggie?”
“For sure. For sure.” He stood straight. “Anybody else?”
The girls mentioned ordering their food already from the small kiosk on the table I didn’t notice because I’d been standing. Apparently, Dre came over just before Sam was able to put hers in. It was clear to me she was his target.
He turned to me. “You want something?”
I shook my head, looking away. “I’m good.”
“A’ight,” he spoke mostly to himself before walking off.
“Tori, you sure you don’t want anything?” Sam asked with a smile and eyes begging me to be a girlie, grateful human. “He was going to pay.”
“I got money.” I tried playing it cool, happy the restaurant was so loud no one could hear my stomach grumbling. Smelling all this food sped up my hunger. “I can get my own food.”
“Here.” Blackberry girl pushed the little screen to the end of the table for me to order.
“I don’t need it. I’m good.”
“Aren’t you going to eat?” the Krystal girl asked.
I shook my head. “Kind of full now. Had some snacks before I left the room.”
I tried to ignore them looking at each other. It didn’t take long. They were back to yapping and laughing in no time. I leaned against the window and watched the kitchen. My thoughts traveled to my next fight. It was in a couple of weeks, here at Blakewood. No one really attended women’s boxing matches. I went to two of Reggie Laws, BSU’s top male fighter’s, fights and saw more than three times the amount of people than were at mine in Minnesota.
Most people at my fight were boxing people: staff, trainers, judges, a couple of reporters, and a few relatives of my opponent. My mother had been saying there was no money in boxing and it was a waste of ti
me. When Uppercut came down to talk to her about how people from the top HBCU in the country wanted me to come fight for them, her first response was no. She said I needed to apply for a job at the new diner they were opening in Millville or try for work at the casinos in Atlantic City. She felt this was pointless.
Now, watching Dre hand Samantha her veggie pizza that looked good as hell, followed by the waiter bringing the rest of the girls their food, I wondered if there was a bit of wisdom in my mother’s stance on this. Samantha offered me a slice, and I turned it down. A small slice of a personal pizza would only tease me. Plus, I’d look poor.
I stood, people watched, smiled and responded when Samantha tried to pull me into a conversation, and ignored my stomach eating itself. The girls were done with their food twenty minutes later, but still talking.
I tapped Samantha’s shoulder. “I’mma hit the bathroom.”
“You want me to come?”
“Nah. Talk to your friends.” I stretched out my hand, telling her to stay. “I’ll be right back.”
The most annoying thing for me had always been threading through a crowd of my peers. I hated touching those stupid humans or having to say excuse me to get through. Luckily enough for me, I made it to the bathroom with no major issues. I didn’t even look Ashton and his girlfriend’s way. When I stepped inside, I was reminded I didn’t have to go in the first place; I’d just needed to move, sick of smelling delicious garlic. In my dry, starved thoughts, I figured in the bathroom I could smell something gross and be healed of my hunger.
There were two girls at the sinks and three available stalls. Only one was unoccupied, and thankfully, it wasn’t the last, near the wall. I was able to slip inside just to wait. My eyes fell to my sneakers and the floor. What in the world was I waiting for, though? The water from the sinks silenced, then yanked paper towels could be heard. The girls at the sink said hello to the one coming out of the occupied stall. Then the doors to the other stall opened, and I heard the sink going again.
I let out a breath, eyes shooting up to the ceiling as I wondered how I got here. The door to the restroom opened and closed again. Just when I thought I was alone, voices vaguely familiar to me sounded.
“Are you okay?”
After a spell, another girl finally answered, “I will be. Relationships are just so fucking hard!” I recognized that whiny cry.
Aivery…
“Well, tell me,” the first girl encouraged. “What’s going on?”
“He’s been stressed since we got back on campus this fall about his ghetto ass cousin who’s been locked up for months—should have been long ago if you ask me. My question is why does that affect you to the point of losing focus?”
“On what?” Karmen. I finally recognized the voice as Karmen. “Everything okay with the Panthers?” There was a pause. “Oh. Then is it school he’s falling behind in? I know how seriously he takes his studies.”
“I really don’t know. He doesn’t say much. What I do know is we should be planning the next phase of our life together. He’s graduating in January; I graduate in May. He’ll be going right into the League. We should have our engagement figured out, our wedding date…be settled on our first house.” My eyes went wild, head swung back.
I had no idea things were that deep between them. Ashton never talked about Aivery. Then again, why would he to me?
But engaged?
“You know my sister, Sherell, and her husband live in my parents’ first home, a five thousand square foot colonial with their two-year-old. And now they’re having twins and don’t have their own place yet? I wouldn’t dare! My dad bought Mom an eight thousand square foot home before they had me. I will not be Sherell! Ashton and I will have a sizable home before we have children and when we decide to start our family, we will have moved into something suitable for it.”
I blinked hard. If this was how all people with money thought, I’d forever be behind the mark. My mother moved out of my grandmother’s trailer home and into her own in the park when I was about four. The three of us lived comfortably in that two-bedroom trailer. Those were the best days of my life, a time I’d gladly go back to. The place felt so big to me. It kept us close.
“It’s tricky with family, Aiv.” Karmen’s tone was more gentle than I thought she was capable of. “It’s gonna work out. Before I know it, I’ll be shopping for my bridesmaid’s gown!” She ended it on a cheery note.
“And not to mention, he flew out of town the other day, cutting his phone off. I didn’t hear from him for close to eighteen hours. His only explanation was ‘Panthers business.’ Like…what does that even mean? You hop on a plane and disappear when you want?”
“You know he’s carrying the BSU sports torch, Aiv. The athletic department is the top of the nation. They’re secretive as hell over there. That doesn’t mean he’s doing something wrong.”
There was another dramatic pause.
“Whatever. I’m just never supporting his hood ass cousin. I can’t stand him. He could rot away in there, and I wouldn’t give a damn. Why should I if he doesn’t care about his future? And Ashton doesn’t seem to care about his own if he’s neglecting it for his loser cousin!”
“Aiv…”
“Let’s just go. I can use a drink.” I could hear a deep exhale. “Megan’s got some Macallan Sherry Oak 18 from her uncle’s stash back at the room. C’mon.”
“Ohhh!” Karmen sounded intrigued. “I’m down.”
I listened to them leave then counted to thirty before leaving out of the stall. It would have been crazy awkward if they’d checked to see if they were alone. Relieved I’d avoided a moment of disaster, I took my time washing my hands then left the bathroom. Ashton talked about his cousin to me a month ago. I never thought to ask him about it again. He got so cryptic that day on the track when I thought he was sharing something that had really been bothering him. Out of nowhere, I felt an emotion I wasn’t used to when it came to humans like Ashton Spencer. I felt guilt. Following up on his cousin’s issue seemed impossible, but necessary.
On my way back to my standing wall, I noticed Ashton standing along with Aivery and their crew. They were leaving. I kept my eyes trained to where I was going, my mind flying with the details from the conversation I’d just ear-hustled. Aivery’s words were harsh. Had she told Ashton how she felt?
“I was just about to come and look for you,” Samantha advised lowly when I rested against the window.
I tried for a smile in response, but honestly, I had no idea what came out. It was time to go. We’d been here for the better part of an hour. And my hunger pangs returned as soon as I resumed my post. This was why I didn’t like going places with drivers I didn’t know. I had to decide how long it would be before I’d ask to go.
“Margherita pizza for the champ.” The waiter looked me dead in the eyes when he lay the pizza on the table.
All the girls looked at me.
When he started to walk away, I made clear, “I ain’t order this.”
“Well, it’s paid for and was ordered for you.” He shrugged, looking at me over his shoulder. “The guy just left. Enjoy, sweetheart.”
Why? Why did he always feel like he had to rescue me? I didn’t ask for this. My eyes met the pizza. I’d never had this type before, but… Damn. It looks good as hell! My stomach started to turn over again, similar to how it did before I left for the bathroom.
“Here, Tori,” Samantha ordered, scooting over. I hadn’t even noticed the two girls saving the table had left. “This looks good. Eat.”
I’d only eaten pepperoni, sausage, or just plain cheese pizza. This was not those. With little hesitation, I sat down for what would be my favorite pizza for the rest of my days.
On a knee over the green of the Panthers field, we surrounded Coach Green, A.D. Jones, the coordinators, and other staff for final words before we ended practice. It was the last one before homecoming, when they shared their final words. It was a time of unity and internal reflection.
“We went hard on you this year,” A.D. Jones admitted humbly. “We worked you since your move-in day in August. Some of you bitched and moaned, but everybody showed up this year. Everybody followed Coach Green and the coordinators’ vision to the best of your abilities. Spence switched up a few plays—”
“And was patient with everybody,” Coach Green spoke up.
“I’ve been told,” A.D. Jones continued as my teammates closest to me patted my back in agreement. His eyes brushed against the dozens of Panthers kneeled around him and his staff. “You guys deserve tomorrow’s win. You’ve put in the work, made the sacrifices, stayed focused, and you trusted the coaches and each other. Let that all culminate tomorrow, translating into a win.”
He gave Coach Green the nod of completion. Coach stepped toward the center of the cypher.
“I’m not just a man,” he projected loudly.
We responded with the next line. “I am a Panther!”
He continued, “My ancestors weren’t just resilient.”
“They were warriors!”
“I will never be average.”
“I’m superior!” we shouted.
Then we finished together. “And tomorrow, we will remind the world!”
Feeling hyped, we jumped to our feet, chest-bumping and dapping it up with each other.
“Hold up!” A.D. Jones shouted into a bullhorn. Immediately, we calmed to the call. “Before we let you go relax.” He squinted his eyes in a muted warning we found funny. “We have a…small presentation Panthers style!”
We all looked around, confused and in anticipation. Seconds later, music sounded. At first, I thought it was just from the speakers, but when the first few members of the band marched in obviously playing their instruments, I couldn’t trust my ears. My team and I watched, swaying to the music, eventually recognizing Jay Z’s “Encore” from The Black Album. Al’s big ass began bouncing around and into people, super-duper psyched. The jumbotrons started to play above the stadium seats, awakening the place.
