Thump!
A white flash of pain crossed my eyelids as a pillow connected with my face. Eyes flying open, I shot up in bed to look accusingly at my assailant. My burning gaze fell on my younger brother standing at the entrance of my room, smirking obnoxiously. I scowled at him as I tore my earphones from my ears.
"Asher Yeboah! Do you want to die?!" My voice was threatening, but the dark skinny boy just stared back at me, his eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Mama says that you have to drive me to basketball practice." he replied smugly as he strolled into the room without invitation. My brow furrowed at being interrupted from my study break, but how could I say no to helping out Mama? Grudgingly, I wiggled out of my blanket cocoon, stretching as I did.
"Fine," I sighed. "Give me 5 minutes and I'll be ready."
Within exactly 7 minutes and 53 seconds, I was backing the family's beat-up black car out of the driveway with my brother squirming energetically in the passenger seat. Once we were out of our neighbourhood, I turned to my antsy passenger.
"Which court is it this week?"
"The one near Nana's old store."
Nodding, I focused back on the road. It was a beautiful day in Toronto, and I could feel my bad mood being slowly melted by the warm sunlight streaming in through the car windows. After a few minutes of pleasant silence, I reached down and turned the radio on to my favourite station. To my delight, the notes of a popular k-pop song blasted from the speakers prompting a loud groan from Asher.
"Not this again! You and your stupid addiction. You probably love BTS more than life itself."
I rolled my eyes. "You're in no place to talk, Asher, especially when I'm driving you to a practice for the sport you practically eat, sleep and breathe."
My critic merely scoffed. "If you were my Uber driver, I would have left you a one star rating by now."
He reached out and turned off the radio.
Havengrove Park was a familiar place for us. In the good old days, when things were better for my family, we used to come there for picnics on Saturday afternoons in the summertime. Mama, Dada and the three of us kids would sit on a blanket under the large oak tree in the far corner of the park to escape the stifling heat. We'd hang out together- talking, laughing and eating Mama's homemade jollof.
Once the boys were done eating, they would get up and walk over to the basketball court at the far end of the park, and shoot hoops with Dada.
I loved watching them from my spot under the oak tree. Laying back on the soft grass, I'd take off my flip flops so I could feel the grainy earth between my toes. The ground was speckled with dandelions; yellow heads popping out of the fresh grass almost as if they were greeting me.
That was three years ago.
Now, as I pulled up in front of the park, I could see a young couple sitting under the tree with their toddler. I watched enviously at the way the father loving stroked his daughter's blond curls and both parents laughed as she pulled a funny face.
Asher's impatient voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
"Did you hear me, 'Boo? Mama says that you need to come with me and collect some dried fish and okra stew from Auntie Liz."
Liz was one of Mama's Jamaican friends. Her son was on the same basketball team as Asher, so she often attended practices. As my brother's occasional chauffeur, I sometimes ended up playing delivery driver for the special groceries she'd bring for my mother.
I was about to lock the car and follow Asher when I paused. "Wait a minute, why are you calling me 'Boo?" My brother turned to me with a wicked grin on his face.
"It's short for Koreaboo."
I sucked my teeth as the fourteen year old ran away cackling.
By the time I reached the court, most of the team had already arrived, and they were practising ball control. The coach was standing with Asher near the edge of the court, giving him advice on how to misdirect his opponent. I quickly spotted Liz standing at the sidelines and jogged over to her.
The middle aged woman was quite the funny sight, in a bright yellow New York t-shirt with dark purple sweatpants, yelling instructions at her youngest son.
"Eli! Don't fixate on the ball! Keep your eyes on your surroundings!" She shook her salt-and-pepper dreadlocks in annoyance when he lost control of the ball and it rolled off into the grass. I smiled at her antics and called out to get her attention.
"Good afternoon, Auntie!"
Liz's face lit up. "My favourite niece! Oh, yes! Come with me to my car, I have the food for your mom." She began heading towards the parking lot beckoning me to follow her. I happily obliged, only turning back to catch my brother's attention by waving at him.
"I'll come pick you up later, Ash. Play hard!"
He sent me a quick nod as he tried to guard the basketball from a kid that looked more like an ogre than a ninth grader. He towered over Asher by almost a foot. I couldn't help but chuckle when the image of a cross between Shrek and LeBron James came to my mind.
Once I reached Auntie Liz's car, she was already there taking a plastic bag out of the trunk. "Here, hold this carefully so it doesn't tip over." She pointed to another container that was also in the bag. "This one is the salt fish that my sister bought and this is an okra-"
She was interrupted by the sound of shouting coming from across the park.
There was some sort of commotion forming at the basketball court, and everyone had stopped to watch it. I was about to return to our conversation when I heard a familiar voice among the shouts.
"Stop lying, Byron! You tripped me deliberately!"
My eyes widened, and I said a hasty goodbye to Aunt Liz before hurrying towards the basketball court. My fears were confirmed once I saw the scene on the tarmac. Asher and the Shrek-boy from earlier were rolling around on the ground, throwing wild punches and kicks at each other. The boys' coach was standing over them and yelling furiously. His face looked like a puffy red tomato from anger. "Boys. Boys! If you don't get up in the next ten seconds, I will make sure that you two are benched for the rest of the season!"
Asher and Shrek-boy didn't seem to hear him, and instead continued trying to punch each other's brains out while cursing loudly. Coach Burt's eyes narrowed, and he clenched his jaw as he started his countdown.
"Ten... Nine..."
I was freaking out. It would devastate Ash to be benched while all his friends played through the season. Coach continued his countdown, but the fight raged on. I heard my voice before I even recognized it. "Asher! Stop it you idiot!"
But Asher paid me no attention. He was too busy focusing his fury at the boy who had just socked him square in the jaw. Without another moment of hesitation, I rushed over to my brother's side, grabbing him by his flailing legs and physically dragging him away from the seething ogre.
Asher was kicking and spitting like a cat. His face was covered in purple bruises, and his eye was beginning to swell, but he didn't seem to notice.
At the same moment, I was surprised to see a pair of muscular arms appear out of nowhere and restrain Shrek-boy who was still trying to get a few punches in at my brother.
The owner of the arms was the definition of tall, dark and handsome. He must have been about seventeen or eighteen- my age. His dark curls were shaved at the side, and he had skin the colour of the oak tree's trunk that I was so fond of. His dark eyes looked like they were shooting lightning bolts at the kid that he was restraining.
At that moment, he looked up and caught me staring at him with my mouth hanging open. A small amused smirk flashed on his lips before he lifted up a still screaming Shrek-boy with ease and hoisted him onto his shoulder.
"Put me down Zion! I'll kill you!." The boy howled indignantly.
Zion just rolled his eyes. "If I put you down, you'll probably do something stupid. Just keep quiet, Byron." With that, he walked away briskly with his brother hanging over his shoulder like an angry rag doll.
I scoffed at the lack of an apology as I eyed his retreating form before turning back to a guilty looking Asher who was sitting on the tarmac.
"Let's go home," I gritted out.
Asher gulped.
During the car ride home I lectured Asher mercilessly. I was furious with him for being stupid enough to risk his position on the team just for the satisfaction of a few punches. He actually hung his head in shame.
The afternoon sun was dipping and painting the sky in a lazy golden haze by the time the car pulled up in the driveway.
I was about to open the front door when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Asher looked at me nervously. "Phoebe..." He practically whispered. "Are you going to tell Mom about this?"
The pleading look in his eyes filled my heart with compassion. I knew Mama already had enough to deal with, and that it wasn't good for her health to stress her out too much.
"No," I decided. "But don't you ever pull a stunt like this again."
He nodded solemnly, pulled me into a grateful hug.
Once inside the house, Asher went up to his room while I put the fish and okra in the fridge, careful not to wake up Mama who was sleeping on the couch.
I sighed and leaned against the counter, replaying the court incident in my mind. I felt my face grow warm as I remembered the tall stranger who had whisked away Shrek-boy.
Even though he was rude, he was pretty cute.
What was his name again?
Oh right.
Zion.