“Well, alright,” Grant shrugged. “If you’re too scared of a little game of one-on-one…that’s fine…you can have it.”
Hailey laughed. “Do you really think you can shame me into actually playing you for it?”
“You’re right,” Grant nodded, “that would be a stupid move. I mean the jersey is yours…why would you give it up?”
Hailey raised her eyebrow. “And if we played for it, it’s a given that I would lose? That’s what you mean?”
“Duh,” Grant replied.
“How uncharacteristically inarticulate,” Hailey rolled her eyes.
“Some things are just too obvious for words, Babe,” Grant shrugged. “I mean…come-on, Darlin’…you’re a girl.”
“Okay, you’re on!” Hailey exclaimed.
“Imagine that,” Grant mused as he picked up a basketball and spun it on his finger.
Hailey snatched the ball. “Let’s play!”
Hailey tried not to sulk as she and Grant walked toward her truck, but, when she looked down at the jersey in her hand, she kicked a clump of dirt. “Thirty-three?” she grumbled. “Thirty-stupid-three?”
Grant opened the passenger’s side door, and Hailey stared at him.
“What?” Grant smiled.
“I suggest you get used to walking home,” Hailey pointed.
“Oh, come-on,” Grant grinned. “You’re not going to be a bad sport about this are you? The great Larry Bird made that number famous in Boston, you know?”
Hailey got into the truck and started the engine. “You know what, Grant. You’ve moved into my old room. You’ve got my dad taking your side over mine. You’ve taken over the position on the team that used to be mine. And now you have my jersey number. I think it is safe to say that you win!”
“I didn’t realize it was a competition,” Grant frowned.
Hailey cut her eyes toward Grant. “This little arrangement isn’t working for me anymore. One day you’re kissing my cheek out of the blue and the next thing I know you’re stealing something that means more to me than it does to you. I just don’t get you! Maybe you should consider going to stay over at your granny’s…or going back to North Carolina for that matter. You hate it here, right? You hate everything about it?”
Grant rolled his eyes. “I’ll be gone soon enough…”
“Well, if you’re planning on leaving before the season gets started real good, why does it matter what jersey number you wear?” Hailey pondered.
“I like the number three,” Grant shrugged.
Hailey plastered her jersey against her chest. “Well, then I would think you would like this jersey doubly good. Interested?”
Grant was quiet as Hailey tossed the jersey aside.
“Do you really wear number three for your brother?” Hailey asked finally.
“My brother didn’t really like basketball,” Grant shook his head. “I guess when you’re used to always being the new kid, you come up with clever ways of getting your way. You bring up the dead brother and people usually become pretty generous.”
“I knew you were lying,” Hailey sighed.
“Yep, you called me on that one,” Grant shrugged.
“How did your brother die?” Hailey gulped.
Grant looked away, pained. “He had the misfortune of being one of the people standing at the base of Mount Saint Cleopatra when it erupted after being dormant for nearly one hundred years.”
“Are you serious?” Hailey gasped.
“Yeah,” Grant smiled. “He’s a statue of molten lava. We keep him in a glass case back home.”
Hailey slapped Grant hard across the chest. “My goodness! You’re awful!”
“Car accident,” Grant admitted.
“I’m sorry,” Hailey nodded.
“It’s okay,” Grant shrugged. “I don’t remember him at all.”
Hailey swallowed. “Then I’m really sorry,” she nodded.
Grant looked out the back window toward the barn. Hailey had been sitting on the ground by the fence for nearly half an hour, and it was almost time for supper.
“Kids!” Nora called from the kitchen. “Wash up. I made chicken casseroles.”
