The Game

𝟏𝟔

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑺𝒊𝒙𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏 - 𝑵'𝒚 𝑷𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆 𝑷𝒍𝒖𝒔

I slipped into the gym through the side door, sliding past a wall of cheerleaders and ducking two basketballs that came skidding across the wood. The place was already loud — whistles, rubber squeaks, the low thunder of trash talk ricocheting off the rafters. I wore my new lazy-fast outfit because it made moving easy: a white crop tank with two navy stars stamped across the front, navy track pants with white piping, and clean trainers. I shoved my sunglasses on top of my head like a headband and tugged my backpack higher on one shoulder.

I set my bag on the bench by the scorer's table and headed straight for the storage room. The metal door stuck like always; I hip-checked it and squeezed through the narrow gap into the half-dark. The smell of pine cleaner and rubber hit first. I stacked six chilled water bottles into the crook of my arm, threw a towel roll across the other, and balanced an extra stack of folded towels under my chin. It wasn't elegant, but I'd done worse.

I made it halfway back before a cheerleader, eyes on her phone, clipped my shoulder. Half the towels slithered to the floor.

"Seriously?" she muttered, as if I had jumped into her path on purpose. She kept walking.

Kareem sauntered by a beat later, smirking. "Looks like you can't do anything right, huh?"

I rolled my eyes and didn't gift him the reaction he wanted. I dropped the water at the bench, then went back for the towels. I bent to grab the first stack — and another hand slid in at the same time. Warm, steady.

"Don't mind him," Chris said behind me, scooping two towels with one sweep. "He's a jerk."

I didn't trust my voice not to do too much, so I didn't say anything. Our fingers brushed; the soft shock of it went ringing up to my elbow. I looked up. He was already looking down. For a second the gym noise blurred.

"Babe," Kayoni snapped, heels clicking as she stopped a foot away. "That's her job. She dropped them — she can pick them up. Get up off the ground."

Chris rolled his eyes and stood to his full height, towels in hand. "Damn, I can't be nice?"

"That's not what I said," she sniffed.

"It's exactly what you said," I said under my breath, taking the towels from him. I turned away before she could make a scene, dropped everything neatly at the bench, and pushed my sunglasses into my backpack pocket.

I glanced at the clock and remembered what I had forgotten — basketballs. I double-timed back to storage. The door wasn't latched all the way this time; it swung inward easily. I stepped in, reached for the mesh bag of balls, and froze.

Chris and Kayoni were in the narrow aisle between the racks, kissing the kind of kiss people save for movies. It didn't matter that I had known what I knew — that image from yesterday of her stumbling out of the janitor closet with her earrings in her fingers and lipstick smudged. My stomach still turned on reflex. The sound that left me wasn't polite; it was an honest, audible gag.

They broke apart. "What did you say?" Kayoni demanded, wiping her mouth like I'd contaminated it.

"Who knows where your lips have been," I said, grabbing the mesh bag.

Her mouth curled. "What are you trying to say?"

"You're for everybody."

"I'm very loyal to my boyfriend."

I gave her a long look that said I knew what I knew and walked out with the balls. I'd almost reached the door when she stomped after me.

"I don't know what you're trying to imply — and you're not going to imply it in front of all these people," she announced, loud enough for the nearest three rows of bleachers to go quiet.