“Noted,” I say, wide-eyed, wondering why the hell it’s taken her up until now to divulge on the most crucial information I’m going to need while staying here. Though her warning falls on deaf ears. I don’t do cocaine or any of the hard shit, only the occasional joint and only if I really need to relax. Tonight’s smoke is just for fun.
We find an old park bench and drop down, making sure to keep in the shadows despite the place practically being a ghost town. We chat and get to know each other and after ten minutes, I hear the familiar sound of a basketball on the pavement and I’m instantly thrown back in time. Blake used basketball as his drug to help get past the ache of missing mom and dad. Every night I would hear him playing ball, I’d listen to the echo of the ball bouncing off the pavement, the sound of his sneakers as he ran up and down the court, and the familiar sound of the ball falling through the net.
Despite Blake still practicing every day, it’s a noise I no longer listen out for. Now, I listen for the sound of monsters creeping down the hall, I listen for my door handle turning, I listen for the sound of uninvited men trying to steal what’s not theirs. The only sound that can possibly bring me any peace is the soft whoosh of my blade releasing from my pocketknife. That sound has what it takes to help me breathe. It’s my safety net and I’ll never be without it. Never again.
I hear the player jogging up the court and it’s followed by the familiarity of the guy leaping into the sky and dunking the ball into the hoop. The sound almost has a smile coming to my face. It reminds me of a time where things were different, where I didn’t have my brother’s future on my shoulders and even knew what a real monster was, but the ball falls through a chained net, making a harsh jingle and the memory fades. Blake only ever played with rope nets because that was the best money could buy. Oh, how things have changed.
For a moment, I wonder if it’s Blake out on the court and if he somehow escaped Shaylee’s clutches and followed us here, but he wouldn’t do that. He’s too nice. It must be some random guy…maybe not even a high school student as I’m sure the whole team would be at Fischer’s place, the whole team apart from Blake seeing as though his big sister sent him home early.
I have to admit, I was surprised the team was even hanging out tonight considering it’s a Monday. Had he asked me on Friday or Saturday night then it could have made complete sense, but a Monday…kind of weird.
Whoever’s out there continues playing while Maze and I zone out, enjoying our joint while the world goes on around us. Ten minutes turn into thirty and before I know it, nearly two hours have passed. I haven’t gotten any texts from Blake so I’m assuming everything is fine at home and I haven’t been sprung, but we’re definitely pushing the limits. I don’t know if I can completely trust Shay and Ben, but I certainly respect them and because of that, I think it’s time to start heading home.
Maze and I get up from the bench and start walking back past the basketball court and out to the main road. My eyes are firmly on the ground, hoping I don’t trip and fall, but clearly, Maze’s eyes are on something else. “Damn, I know I fucking hate the guy but if he wanted to slam me up against one of these lamp post, I’m not going to say no.”
A bad feeling settles into the pit of my stomach and my curiosity gets the best of me. I glance up only to find none other than Slade Cruz staring back at me.
Fucking perfect.
We go to keep walking but his hands shoot out and I have just enough time to throw my hands out and catch the basketball that’s coming full force into my chest. Pain rocks through me but I put my game face on and throw it straight back, hoping I’m able to do at least a little damage.
Considering the direction he’s coming from and the fact that he comes fully equipped with a basketball, clearly he was the guy who was just using the court.
Slade doesn’t dare take his eyes off me as he stares through narrowed eyes, the disgust and annoyance clear on his face Once again, the way he looks at me makes me feel so much less than what I am and I absolutely hate it. He pinches the ball out of the air with ease and smirks at my pathetic shot.