She was the type of woman my father would try to smash. The interviewer dressed all nice and professional, but her beauty and coyness was what would set her on my father's radar. She sat across from us in our living room, occupying the chair by the grand fireplace. She was sitting with her legs crossed. They looked delicate in her pinstriped skirt, oiled to perfection and appearing smooth and toned. Her mocha skin complimented her beauty, that and the bun she had her hair pulled up in. She bore glasses, almost reminiscent of a naughty teacher. My father was definitely going to try to hook her.
He would be friendly with her and joke around during and after the interview. He would procure her number and call her in a few days, take her to a nice dinner and later to a hotel and fuck her, and just as quickly as he pursued her, he would send her off with a nice bracelet or necklace, the way only Darrel Parker could.
And she wouldn't even see it coming.
We sat like ducks in a row on the sofa. Darnel, Devonte and then me. Our father sat across from Susan, the interviewer, in the other chair, leaning back comfortably as he was dressed in an impeccable three-piece suit. Darnel wore a sweater and a stupid bow-tie and pressed pants. Devonte had on a designer t-shirt and jeans, and I went for a simple black tee and sweats. Besides my father's Dr. Martens, we all bore various athlete sneakers on our feet.
Susan had taken a moment and just stared at all four of us, jotting down notes like we were specimen in a lab or something.
I wasn't too excited about the interview. The only benefit was my father letting us all skip our morning run.
"So," Susan was saying as she settled back into her chair. "Did you all decide to play basketball on your own, or did dad just shove a ball into your little hands and you had no choice?"
I grew up watching my brothers play when I was a toddler and seeing my father teach them. It made me want to play too. He taught us how to play and we became good on our own. Or maybe it was just in our blood. I knew a lot of guys who knew how to play basketball, but sucked at playing. With us, our father taught us the rules and mechanics, but we made it our own when we stepped on the court.
"He definitely was an influence," Devonte said. "But as far as playing now, we became good at it and we like playing on our own."
"He gave us the ball and we just ran with it. It's definitely a family thing," Darnel added.
"Speaking of family," Susan began, "what's it like being Darrel Parker's sons?"
Darnel went first, saying, "There's definitely its perks. You're easily popular around here and people tend to gravitate towards you, but not just from relation, from the work you put in on the court too. There's a lot of attention being related to my father. Now, there's also the downside. There's a ton of pressure to be just as good as him and there's a lot of fake people that come with the notoriety. People who just wanna mooch off of our supposed 'wealth.' "
Those types of people were the worst. Our father gave us a healthy allowance when we did something substantial, every dollar was hard earned. People looked at Devonte and me and assumed we were drowning in cash since we actually owned Audemar watches. If it wasn't for winning the city title back in the fall, proving that the remaining two Parker boys at Moorehead High still had it, we wouldn't have gotten shit but extra running from our father. We worked our asses off and every luxury we had was earned. We weren't spoiled, that was for damn sure.
"It's interesting that you say that, Darnel. You take after your father in that your position is also point guard. You've been the talk of the city for years and a lot of us are curious on your take on the upcoming draft."
My father glanced at Darnel and I could only imagine the amount of pressure on his shoulders. I wasn't too worried though, Darnel was the strongest out of all three of us.
He leaned over, propping his elbows on his knees and looking Susan in the eye as he began to speak. "I've played ball for as long as I can remember. It's always been about basketball and it's almost what everyone just wants to talk about when they meet me. Most people when they speak about college they say to take it seriously and to put in the effort now because it'll be worth it in the end. Basketball's always come first and right now I wanna put learning ahead of that. The NBA will always be there."
My father was not pleased.
The hard look on his face made me sink into my seat, grateful that it wasn't my question.
It also pissed me off. When did Darnel get so damn soft? He was top ten in the country and rumors were constantly going around that he was going to be the number one draft pick. He was willing to throw it all away for school? Didn't he want to go pro as bad as the rest of us?
Susan perked a brow. "So no NBA?"
Darnel shrugged. "I've got all the time in the world. They want me so bad; they can stand to see where I'm at in a few years decision wise."
We all looked at my father besides Darnel.
"How do you feel about that, Darrel?" Susan asked.
My father looked at Darnel, observing him and appearing calm. "He's coming from a position where he was the best high school athlete as far as basketball goes, now he's in college full of guys who were the best in their respective schools. If he wants to wait a year or two to really train himself, that's the best he can do than rush into something he's not ready for."
We were Darrel Parker's sons, we were fuckin' born ready.
Susan turned to Devonte and me. "I've seen the work you boys put in this season and a lot of sports fans are proud to see the Parkers all have it. It seems like you two are just in your own worlds on that court, almost like you challenge each other on who can score the most points per game. I remember I saw the Arlington High game and it felt that way."
Devonte and I pounded fists, both appearing cocky at her remark.
"Some teams we just know we're gonna beat, so we go out and just do our thing," Devonte said.
"Arlington's team is pretty hit or miss, some years they have it, others they don't. We knew we had that game so we just felt like entertaining after a while." I almost laughed, remembering how Coach had scolded Chris for doing a little dance when he'd score a perfect three.
The crowd was in hysterics that night. Between Devonte and my scoring and Chris showboating, it was one hell of a game.
"Well since we're on the sports track, tell me what you guys listen to when you work out," said Susan.
"At parties I can listen to this new age of 'swag' rap, but if it's just me and I'm about to hit the gym, I gotta have some real lyricists in my ears," Darnel said. "I'm a big fan of Slaughterhouse and their whole style of rap."
"Gotta love Joe Budden."
"They can make party songs, but then go and talk about real life experiences too, and I like that. I'm all about content."
Darnel and his political ass answers.
"I'm into TDE or Black Hippy right now, they've got some promise," Devonte went next.
I didn't really have a favorite rapper or go-to person to listen to when I ran. "Some mornings it's J. Cole, other's it's Kanye, it varies. Mostly I listen to everything on shuffle."
Susan bobbed her head and jotted down some notes. She then looked up, smiling big at each of us before turning to our father. "I must say, Darrel, it's amazing how handsome each of your boys are. They're all like three variants of you."
My father barely acknowledged the comment as he simply nodded his head. "It's fortunate to have such handsome sons who all take after me. I say fortunate because being a single father I can imagine it would be hard raising a child that looks like the spouse that wasn't there."
Susan turned back to us, reassessing us shrewdly. "So no one resembles their mother?"
If we did, we didn't know. I was only three when my mother left but I couldn't remember what she looked like. From the photo I found of myself in her lap, I knew we took her skin tone, so we had some of her, even though we had none of her.
"I'm lucky they all look like me," my father replied, giving a forced smile. "I hear I'm quite good looking."
I watched as Susan blushed and pretended to roll her eyes. She was a goner.
"What was that like, growing up without your mother?" Susan asked. "Did it affect your playing in any way?"
"We're kinda in an era where some kids only have their moms. Some of them be at the games just wilin' out on the refs and just being into the game. Sometimes I wonder if my mom was around if she'd be that turnt up for us," Devonte admitted.
My father sat up, eyeing Devonte with eyes ablaze. "Discredit that Miss Thomas."
She looked at him questioningly. "Excuse me?"
"Discredit his comment," he said with authority in his voice. "Let's ignore their mother."
"With all due respect, Darrel—"
"With all due respect, Miss Thomas, you never know who's going to read this article, and I'd like for that chapter to be excluded. She left when they were five, four and three, they grew up just fine without her and needn't reminders of her absence."
Susan didn't back down. "No offense, Mr. Parker, but I'm conducting the interview, and you want the feature story. I want to write something good and have a lot of good material, please let me do my job."
She had bitten back.
Darnel was impressed and his small smile showed it. He probably would've liked to have seen Cree nearly argue with our father on Monday. It was such a rare sight.
Susan went back to her notes. "Now I'll refute the mother question if you all think it's too personal and irrelevant." She looked over at us, asking for a response.
"I don't think about my mother, she was never there and my father's always been. He's our biggest supporter in basketball. He's more important than someone who just left," I said to end the whole thing.
Devonte just nodded, sneaking a peek at our father.
Darnel shook his head. "It still would've been nice having her around or at games. But we don't have to talk about that."
Still, Susan scribbled something down and I knew we all sat wondering what.
"So who in here has a bae?" Susan asked a moment later, smiling as she looked at each of us.
At once my brothers and I looked at each other, simultaneously scowling. Devonte took the initiative to speak up, reaching out to stop Susan. "Never say that again."
"What? Bae?"
We all nodded. "That sounds terrible." I hated when people went around calling each other that. It was wack as fuck. They should've just stuck to corny food names over that shit.
"It means Before Anyone Else though."
I shook my head. "You'll be before no one else if you ever call me that."
Devonte slapped my back, beginning to laugh. "That shit's just corny."
Susan scribbled into her notebook. "O-kay, what about a girlfriend then?"
"My boys tend to stick on track as far as basketball is concerned and they—"
"My girlfriend's my support system," Darnel spoke up, interrupting our father. "When I need to make a decision, I go to her first before anything. The best part about her is that she hates sports, it would be nice to have a fan as a girlfriend, but then again it's nice knowing I have someone who loves me for me and doesn't expect anything out of me."
I didn't have to look at our father to know he was probably livid at the news being sprung on him.
This girl didn't even like basketball? Of course he was losing it, she was pulling him down.
"Awe, what's her name?" Susan asked.
"What she look like?" Devonte asked next.
Darnel got this stupid smile on his face as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos. "Her name's Ashley." He held his phone out showing Devonte and me first, and I barely gave the girl a glance before shrugging and looking elsewhere. It was just some dumb photo of some brown skinned girl blowing him a kiss from a selfie shot. Her hair was natural, long and curly, but she was okay, not all that.
Susan admired the photo with a smile. "She's certainly pretty." She looked over at Devonte expectantly.
"I haven't found anyone yet." Except his two girlfriends.
She sat up. "Oh we've gotta fix that, I'm sure tons of girls are in line for you. What do you like?"
"Real eyebrows, real baby hairs," he stopped to ponder some more, "the hair on top of their head doesn't have to be real, but those other two should be." He looked off, thinking of some more. "Um, good credit, maybe one or two kids I can stand, but no more than two. At least a GED if they dropped out, no bullet wounds, I'll give you a knife—"
"Devonte," my father cut in.
Devonte grinned. "I'm just kidding. Nice girls are the best in the end, a good personality and actual conversation, nothing pretentious. But I'm kind of focusing on basketball right now, so who knows what the future brings?"
Susan sat blinking, no doubt questioning where the hell Devonte had come up with his list. She shook her head, coming out of her haze as she held her pen out, pointing at Devonte. "You're the funny one." She turned to Darnel. "You're the wise one." And she turned to me. "And you're the mysterious one. I see it now."
Darnel patted Devonte's back extra hard. "He's definitely the comedian in the family. Too funny for his own good."
It was my turn and so I shrugged. "I kinda just like to keep it solo. Besides ball, friends and school, I don't really have time to be pursuing anyone or the interest."
"Mysterious indeed." Susan scribbled down some notes.
I wasn't mysterious. I just didn't give a fuck about dating or catching feelings. Darnel had and look where he was, soft and wasting his potential. It was a shame too, he could've been one of the best, and now he was going out a chump. All because of a girl. That would never be me. Never.
"Last question," Susan said forty-five minutes later. "And this is an interesting one seeing how Darnel answered the draft question. Is basketball a now thing, or is it something you plan to take to the next level as far as career goals go? Do you have a backup plan?"
The answer was easy. "No," both Devonte and I said together. Devonte went on, "This is in our blood. This is our passion. This is who we are. We want this, there is no room for second options, I wanna go pro and I wanna get as many titles as my dad, I want my own sneaker line, I wanna go to the Olympics, hell, I wanna be on a box of Wheaties."
I agreed with him a hundred percent. There was no room for a backup plan. We were going pro. We had the skills and the drive. Our father hadn't been hard on us for nothing; he had our goals in mind. "We've worked too hard to just give up and start planning another life for ourselves. We're Parkers, we were born to ball."
"I'm actually studying sports medicine. If I don't go pro I'd like to be involved somehow or even just working with kids as a gym teacher or coach. I don't want to just put it all on basketball, because if I get hurt, I'm going to need other things," said Darnel.
What fuckin' planet was he on?
My father came over and patted Darnel's shoulder, reaching past him and touching Devonte too. "I'm raising winners, Miss Thomas. It's loser mentality to sit and think of another goal in life. I wouldn't be here if I thought about basketball not going well for me. These boys are going to make me proud, just you wait and see."
Susan ended the interview, citing that she'd had a nice time chatting with us and would look out for the photo shoot that was in store next. My father saw her out and the boys instantly stood, stretching their legs after sitting down for an hour and a half.
"Dad's so about to get her," Devonte stated as he went through his phone, looking for missed calls or texts.
Darnel seemed skeptical. "Nah, she has some backbone in her, I see this as a challenge."
Devonte smirked. "Let him buy her a Versace bag and see how fast she gives in."
Darnel didn't reply. He shook his head and still held with his contention.
Devonte tapped Darnel on the arm as he began to head out the room. "Ay, let me see some of Ashley's pictures."
"Hell no."
As soon as they left a call came through on my phone and I found Troiann calling.
"Yeah?" I answered.
"Um, why didn't I get an invite to the strip club?" she asked, no doubt standing somewhere with her hand on her hip.
"Because you were too busy with Marcus."
"You could've told me and I would've came through."
"Would you?" It was clear that my best friend was nearly whipped, was Troiann as well?
She clicked her tongue. "Hell yeah, Marcus ain't that special."
"Sure."
"Anyway," I could hear her rolling her eyes in her tone, "I heard you and Cree didn't even go."
"Wasn't her speed."
"I appreciate you doing that for her. Almost makes me trust you."
I chuckled. "I'm not up to no good, Troy. We're just cool, okay?"
"Mmm-hmm, you better be." She hung up, leaving the unsaid threat hanging in the air.
Cree texted me next.
I dialed her number, unable to contain my laugh. She took things too personal.
Cree answered immediately. "I oughta knock you upside your head."
I leaned back into the sofa. "Which one?"
There was a pause and then she said, "Eww, we are not talking about your little friend."
Her words made me smile. It was so easy to get a rise out of her. "You're always the one to bring him up first and there's nothing little about my friend."
"Enough flirting, gees."
"Cree?"
"Yeah?"
"When I'm flirting with you, you'll know it. Got it?"
"Noted, now how was it?"
"It was okay. She was pretty cool."
"And your dad?"
I didn't want to think about my father. Darnel had blatantly rebelled the whole interview, saying and admitting to things my father wouldn't approve of. Yet he sat calm, just listening and watching Darnel and that made it worse. I could only imagine was coming now that Susan was gone. The only plus was that Darnel lived in the dorms at school, but come time for summer when he moved back in, shit was going to hit the fan.
"He was okay, too."
"You okay? You sound kinda sad or something."
"I'm fine. What's work been like?"
"Oh my gosh, today we got to fry tortilla chips and I swear I felt Spanish, Dre." She sounded excited about the task. Usually she complained about her work and co-workers.
"Yeah? Bring me some."
"I can't, as soon as I get off I'm going home to shower and then Tremaine and I are going to hang out."
I wondered if my best friend was trying to get Cree. Tremaine hated virgins like the rest of us, but then he had been hanging around Cree more often since we'd made good. Cree wasn't his usual type, but who knew how things would play out.
"So you just texted me to see how the interview went?"
"Yeah, I'm on my lunch break and I was just curious."
"I bet you're sitting there eating some junk food too, huh?" In the background I heard the crumbling of wrappers and her swearing under her breath. "Your dentist must hate you, Cree."
"Whatever, I indulge a little, sue me," she said. "But I am off on Tuesday, do you wanna get together and work some more on our paper?"
"Yeah, we can do that."
"Great, and Dre?"
"Yeah?"
"In the fall, am I going to have to come out and support you guys at your games now that we're friends?"
"That would be the friendly thing to do."
"I just don't care about sports, but if you guys want me there, I'll come and support."
"I'd support your ballet if you ever had a show." And she did have a show.
"Really?"
"You're good, Cree."
"I'm okay."
I rolled my eyes. "You got some weak ass thinking going on over there. You're the shit and you gotta get that in your head."
She giggled. "Gee, thanks for the motivation. I gotta get back to work. Tell your dad I said I hope you score more homeruns next season."
I couldn't fight my smile as I hung up with her. She didn't have the balls to say that to his face, or maybe she did. Cree had sat fearless while my father silently judged her that day.
Darnel stepped back into the room, Devonte behind him, talking about something Darnel clearly didn't care about.
He looked at me, noticing my phone in hand. "You tell the boys about the interview?"
I shrugged. "Nah, that was just Cree."
"Cree?" he asked.
"She's just this girl DeAndre's been hanging around," Devonte cut in.
"The one you told Dad about?"
Devonte nodded. "She was over here on Monday and I bet Dad wasn't too happy about that."
Darnel scowled. "So what." He turned to me. "It's good to see you stepping up, I bet she's nice."
He was getting the wrong idea. Cree was just Cree.
Devonte gestured over to Darnel. "Don't ruin your friendship with Cree by listening to this idiot."
"Ruin my friendship?"
"It's not worth it. Trust me, if I used to smash you, there's no way we can be friends, let alone am I going to be—"
Darnel rolled his eyes. "You done, 'Te?"
Devonte fell back and came and slumped on the couch next to me, commencing to going through his phone.
"What's she like?" Darnel asked me.
"She's into dancing, like ballet, but less confined. Plus we can argue over the dumbest shit. She's not my type at all, and I just wanna be friends because she's different."
"Different?"
"She just is. Not like most girls, kinda weird that way, but that just makes her Cree. Besides, I think she has something going with Tremaine. They've been hanging out and I think they'd be good for each other." Cree could teach Tremaine some things and he could definitely teach her some things. "She's no Draya Young, and that's all that counts."
"That mixed girl with the attitude?"
"Her attitude ain't that bad."
"Shoot, that bitch is stuck-up, and she ain't even all that," Devonte said as he stood from the couch. "You can't be acting like that when you work at McDonalds."
"You're just mad she wouldn't give you any play."
Devonte waved me off and left the room, leaving Darnel standing before me just staring. I thought to cross my fingers in the hope that he wasn't about to lecture me, but I knew it would be to no avail.
I sighed, resting my head back against the soft cushion of the sofa and eyeing my oldest brother. "What, 'Nel?"
He frowned. "Please, please, don't be like him. He's miserable and alone and he's trying to make us just like him."
I was sick of him talking treachery against our father. "You done?"
"No, I gotta be honest, Dre, one day you're going to fall in love and it will be the death of you." Darnel shook his head. "Dad, Dad didn't teach us how to feel and love and when you meet that one girl who makes you fall in love with her, you're going to lose your shit and not know what to do. I can only advise you not to fuck it up by letting her go."
I wasn't in the mood to talk about soft things such as "love." "Whatever you say, Darnel."
He stared at me for the longest.
What did he want from me? I wasn't interested and it had nothing to do with our father.
"What?" I demanded, letting the irritation leak out in my voice.
"I just think you deserve fair warning, that's all."
"Noted. One day I'll settle down, you happy?"
"No."
Of course not. He wanted me to swear I'd give the girl my balls in exchange for our relationship. Like he had done with Ashley.
"And why not?"
"Because you're not going to know how to love her back and that's what scares me. Question, what's your favorite thing to hear from a girl?"
"It's yours." I loved hearing those two words, even if I didn't want it long term.
"Okay, say you meet a fly ass girl, she's just perfect for you. She cooks, she cleans, she's independent, loyal and everything you can imagine. She makes you happy and vice versa, and she tells you it's yours, Dre. That she's in love with you, and she'll do anything to make you happy, that she doesn't care whether you go pro or keep playing ball or not, and that her heart is yours. What would you say back to that?"
I hated this line of conversation. I hated how thought provoking it was and how it required me to sit and be all in my feelings or emotions, something I would never do. Even more I hated the one worded answer that made me feel weak for realizing its strength.
Because there was only one thing to say to such a girl if she existed and told me those words.
Stay.