Twenty-five year old Adira Thompson finds herself in a position where she's single and pregnant, with dreams of becoming a plastic surgeon.
She and her family have a love for basketball, particularly their home team in Los Angeles. Her world someho...
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The new season came quicker than I thought. I haven't had much downtime, and when I do, I take it. I decided to hit up a small diner a little outside of where I live. It was late, so I was trying to be low key.
I just got back from Denver after a game loss. It's our first loss of the season, and I'm bummed out about it. Our last game the other night in Utah, we came close to losing. Luckily we were able to pull through that over time. This loss pissed me off because some of it was easy fundamental mistakes. We can't have that because I'm trying to get a ring. I feel like we have the team to take it all way, but we need to regroup. We can't lose to teams like Denver or come close in Utah. Next two games were here at home, and I'll be damned if I fail.
I sat in my car a second before getting out, needing to fix myself up a bit. I pulled my hat down and grabbed my shades, tucking them in my pocket. I was hoping to go unnoticed.
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I finally worked up the courage to get out of the car, making my way into the diner. I wore my worn cream-colored pullover and my friends' logo cap with some relaxed blue jeans. I kept my hand in the way of my mouth and pulled my hood over my hat, hoping no one would recognize me tonight.
"Hi welcome to Darby's, are you dining in or taking it to go sweetie?" An elderly lady greeted me as soon as I opened the door. I walked over to her cheerful smiling face.
"I'm dining in," I spoke softly and gave her a warm smile.
"Alright, right this way. My name is Wanda, and it'll be my pleasure to serve you tonight. Can I start you off with something to drink, while you look over the menu?" She gestured for a booth. I went ahead and slid in the seat. She handed me the menu.
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