He grunts a laugh as he finishes buttoning his shirt. I’m already dressed and sitting on the bench in the middle of the locker room, waiting to go into the media room to answer questions with the press about our upcoming game.
“Does it have anything to do with you breaking up with Kelsey?”
My head flies up. “How’d you know about that? I only broke up with her yesterday morning.”
His patronizing smile says, You’re an idiot. “She announced it on her Instagram last night, along with a link to a gossip article on In Touch Magazine’s website.”
“Dammit.” I should have known better than to date her. Kelsey is a model who at first seemed nice but then, after closer examination, turned out to be a spotlight hunter. Though, honestly, I can’t say I really care when a woman only wants to date me for the attention it brings her. I only date other women because Bree is always dating other men. But currently she’s not…and since I can’t seem to find a woman even remotely as amazing as Bree, I feel like it’s time I quit looking anywhere else.
Plus, I’m sick of my girlfriends being rude to Bree. It’s like watching someone try to swat a butterfly—cruel and depressing. Suddenly, I’m worried about that article for other reasons. Kelsey can talk shit about me all day, but if she even mentioned Bree’s name once, I’ll have my lawyers all over her faster than she can blink.
“Did you read the article?” I ask Jamal as he preens in the mirror.
He lets out a guttural laugh that tells me I’m not going to like his answer. “Oh yeah I did. And you’re going to hate it.”
My back goes straight. “Does it mention Bree?”
Jamal takes one look at my ready-to-fight demeanor and shakes his head. “No, but you’re pathetic, you know that? Look at you, ready to ruin someone to avenge the woman you’ve never even kissed. Dude, you need to get a grip. Either go after Bree, or be done with her. Clearly you’ve got some pent-up frustration that’s starting to affect your game, and that can’t happen right now, because…playoffs, bro. PLAYOFFS.” He’s shaking his fists in a desperate attempt to make me understand. As if I didn’t already know the playoffs are important.
I ignore Jamal. “Just to be clear, though, the article doesn’t mention Bree?”
He gives me a flat look. “No. Your object of desire is safe from slander. You, however…” He laughs like friends do when they see a booger stuck to the side of your face but don’t intend to tell you it’s there.
Again, I ignore him. “I couldn’t care less about the article, then.” My image has never been important to me. All I care about is playing a good game. “Besides, we only dated for a few months. I doubt she could come up with that much dirt on me.” Mostly because I’m boring. I don’t party. I don’t drink during the season. I go to bed early and wake up early.
Jamal looks like he’s about to burst from jubilant anticipation. His smile is grinchy, his eyebrows are lifted, and now maybe I’m a little nervous about what Kelsey said. He claps me on the back on his way out of the locker room. “Come find me when you’re ready to read it, okay? I don’t want to miss seeing your face when you do.”
As Jamal is leaving, another one of my teammates walks through the locker room and heads for the shower while laughing at whatever he’s looking at on his phone.
“What’s up, Price?” I ask with a head nod even though he’s not looking at me.
He laughs bigger and passes by me. “Not you apparently!”
I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean, but something tells me I’m not going to like it when I find out.
“OH MY GOSH, I’m drooling. Imani, grab me a mop so I can clean up this puddle.”
“Shhhhh, she’s gonna hear us. Keep it down, you dodo!”