Hook Shot (Hoops 3)

My heart performs a triplet in my chest, turning over once, twice, and again, the beat irregular as I read and re-read what he wrote.

Me: Do you want to figure it out?

Unknown: I think yeah, very much . . .TBH. ;-)

My grin grows so wide, I’m probably showing all my teeth. If this were a game, I’d be showing all my cards, but

it’s not a game. It’s butterflies and emoticons and heart eyes. It’s risk and emotion and intimacy and all the things a girl like me dreads. I’ve sworn off Prince Charmings, and the unresolved issues of my past keep intruding on the fairy-tale. It’s not a fairy-tale.

IRL.

Me: SUBJECT: Saturday. We’ll see.

10

Lotus

“I’m so proud of you, Lo.”

Iris’s encouragement has me clutching the phone tight like it’s my lifeline. Like she’s my lifeline, which she has been to me and I have been to her since we were kids.

“I haven’t done anything yet.” My short laugh is as shaky as my insides.

“You’re the strongest chick I know,” Iris says. “And taking this step to get help doesn’t make you weaker. It makes you stronger.”

Would Iris still think I was strong if she knew I’d been standing in front of this Presbyterian church in Brooklyn for the last forty-five minutes? That the Thursday night meeting ends soon, and I haven’t worked up the nerve to go inside?

“Thanks,” I reply faintly. I glance up the flight of concrete steps leading to the church entrance.

“Call me later to tell me how it went,” Iris says. “I have a doctor’s appointment, but I’ll be available other than that.”

I welcome discussing something besides my crazy. I’ve been genuinely concerned about Iris’s pregnancy.

“Everything okay, Bo?” I ask, keeping my voice deliberately even and unconcerned.

“Yeah, completely. The doctor says my pregnancy is boringly normal. This is a routine visit.”

“September will be here before you know it.”

“And I can’t wait. August is obsessed with the baby.”

“Of course he is.” August is one of the good ones. One of the few men I would trust with my cousin and her daughter Sarai.

“He told me Kenan asked for your number.” Iris lets the comment hang over the airwaves.

“Hmmmm,” I reply, finding a small smile despite the anxiety whirring in my belly. “So that’s how he got it.”

“Well did he call?” Iris demands, excitement and hope all up in her voice.

“You and August are such matchmakers,” I say, avoiding her question. One question will lead to another, and eventually she’ll realize I’ve seen Kenan a few times and we’ve been . . . conversant. Hell, we’ve been kiss-versant.

“Did. He. Call?” Iris persists.

“Text,” I reply, giving her just the tip of what she wants. “He invited me to the Rucker on Saturday.”

“Rucker Park is like the mecca of playground basketball.” I’m not impressed by the awe in Iris’s voice. Unlike me, she loves the game.

“Uh-huh. Whatever. We’ll see. I haven’t decided to go yet.”