In the Sidelines » Damian Lillard

10.

I WAS STANDING outside the room where I would be introduced as the new partial owner of the Blazers. My stomach was in a knot, and I repeatedly tapped my foot on the ground which made several people shoot annoyed glares at me.

A man in a headset motioned for me to go over to the press conference table. Sydney, who had been standing with me at the doorway, gave me a thumbs up and mouthed the words 'good luck'.

Once I sat down and was introduced, a barrage of questions were thrown at me. Nearly all of them questioned if I was qualified for the big responsibility of being an owner.

One reporter raised their hand to ask a question. "You're only twenty-one, almost twenty-two, correct?" I nodded in response. "That's very young to be an owner. In fact, there were some players in this year's NBA Draft that are older than you."

I folded my hands together and placed them on top of the table. "I understand that, but age won't play a factor in me being an owner. I will be strictly professional while doing my job," I answered confidently.

From the distrustful looks on some of the media's faces, I could practically see the thoughts forming in their minds: "A young, female owner in a league for men that are even older than her? If she really is going through with this, bad things are bound to happen."

But I didn't mind their opposition to my decision. There was always a first for everything, and I just happened to be the first person to become an NBA owner in their twenties.

Once the interview was wrapped up, I met up with Sydney outside the doorway. She grinned and said that I did great. "Now you'll be meeting the players on the Trail Blazers. Last week was the NBA Draft, and my uncle said that all the rookies are at practice today." I nodded and followed her down the hallway to where the team was practicing.

"Do you think this team has any hot rookies?" She ventured while pushing open the door to the basketball court. "Some attractive second or third-year players would be nice, too."

"You seemed to have forgotten that you're currently in a two-year relationship," I reminded her. After our double date last year with Zac and Ty, Sydney and Zac continued to date, while Ty and I were still friends.

Syd laughed. "I was talking about Blazers for you to meet, of course. Do you even know everyone on this roster?"

"A majority, but not all of them," I admitted. I looked at the roster a few weeks ago, but I was always terrible with names. I also never had to time to discover who the rookies were on this team. "Mostly just the starters. LaMarcus Aldridge, Nicolas Batum, and Wesley Matthews, to name three. I can't remember who the point guard is, though."

I was so distracted in trying to figure out all that players that I nearly bumped into Sydney from behind. For some reason, she suddenly halted once she opened the door. She turned to face me and her eyes were filled with a mixture of surprise and worry.

In a low voice, she muttered to me. "Could that point guard you're thinking of possibly be Damian Lillard?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" I hissed at her. Was this her attempt at some kind of twisted joke?

Sydney spoke with more urgency as she repeated, "Damian is out there."

I rolled my eyes. I wasn't about to believe that out of all 30 teams in the NBA, Damian had been drafted to my team. "Yeah right, Syd. That's a funny joke." I walked past her and onto the basketball court.

The players were winding down near the end of practice. They were laughing and tossing towels over to each other, and everyone seemed to be in high spirits.

A player wearing a muscle shirt and arm sleeves waved his hand. "Yo, rook!" Wesley Matthews yelled over to one of his rookie teammates. "Pass me a towel."

One of Wesley's teammates, about two inches shorter than him, walked over with a towel in hand. Wesley gave the guy a quick pat on the head and said, "Thanks, rook."

That's when I realized Sydney wasn't just telling me a terrible joke. A much-too-familiar voice replied with a sigh. "C'mon Wes, I've got a name."

Wesley chuckled and shot him a grin. "Naw, I think that the name 'rook' suits you much better than Damian Lillard."

Sydney and I heard the two men bantering, and we exchanged glances with each other. I began to panic. "Did you know he was on this team?" She shook her head innocently. "Do you think he knew that I'd be an owner for his team?"

Another thought occurred to me. "Wait, does that mean I own Damian?"

If he and I were still friends, I would have been laughing at the situation. Instead, this probably would form an even bigger rift between us. We were stuck working with each other for the whole year. This time, neither of us would be leaving.

Tugging on Sydney's arm, I attempted to retreat back out into the hallway. I didn't want to face Damian today. Or tomorrow. Or for however long I would own the Trail Blazers, for that matter.

I froze when I heard someone call my name. "Miss Deaton!" It was the president of the Trail Blazers, and he was motioning for me to go where the team was huddled. When the players realized that I was the one being called over, they all began staring at me.

Don't make eye contact with Damian. Don't make eye contact with Damian... I muttered in my head as I walked to the team.

The team president spoke again once I reached them. "As you guys all know, during this past week the team officially announced a minority owner of the Portland Trail Blazers. This is Arabel Deaton." One of the players coughed uncomfortably, and it wouldn't have surprised me if it was Damian. I ignored him and gave the rest of his teammates a warm smile, and they kindly nodded back.

"If you have any questions or just want to welcome her to our team, her office is open any time," the man said. "Please do your best to make sure that Arabel feels right at home."

I replied, although a bit uncomfortably, "It's a pleasure, and I look forward to working with you all." The words seemed way too formal for me when I spoke them aloud, especially to all of these people that were around the same age as me.

I knew that there were going to be many difficulties I'd encounter while being an owner in this league, and I was sure that acting as a superior to the players was going to be one of them.

I was about to turn away from the players until I heard another unfamiliar voice call my name.

Wesley Matthews grinned at me. "Miss Deaton, I just wanna say welcome to the team. You're gonna be a great owner." I gave a sincere smile at his words.

I could only hope he would be right.

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I attached a gif of Wesley Matthews and Damian so you could all see what Wesley looks like. He's my other Portland Trail Blazers bae...

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