“They taught me the hook shot, the behind the back crossover, how to talk trash with the best of them, and a few other things that I probably would have been better off to forget,” Grant recalled as he took a shot.
“Nice shot,” Jack laughed, passing the ball back to Grant.
“You ever played on a court with chain nets?” Grant asked, and his face lit up just thinking about it.
“Redefines swoosh, don’t it?” Jack fired back.
“It’s sweet,” Grant exhaled in reverence.
“And everytime you’ve taken a shot since, you pretend you can hear those chains clanking, and it sends a shiver down your spine,” Jack agreed knowingly.
“You got it,” Grant smiled as he nailed a three pointer.
“How many times have you changed schools, Grant?” Jack asked, suddenly feeling very close to and very protective of the kid standing in front of him.
“I stopped counting a long time ago,” Grant rolled his eyes.
“What was military school like?” Jack asked, trying a different route.
“Academically it was a breeze,” Grant said as he stole the ball from Jack. “The physical demands were really no big deal for me either. Being told what to do and when to do it every moment of the day…well, that sucked.”
“I can’t imagine having to pack up and move as many times as you have,” Jack shook his head.
“Honestly, I wouldn’t trade all the experiences I’ve had for the opportunity to feel more grounded,” Grant admitted.
“Really?” Jack seemed surprised.
Grant nodded. “I’ve seen a lot of things, been a lot of places, but none of that could prepare me for the culture shock that awaited me here. I mean, Paul is more territorial than any lion in the Serengeti.”
“Well,” Jack nodded, “you ready to head back into the jungle? It’s time for practice.”
“After Paul’s little impromptu exposé, I’m not really in the mood to practice,” Grant shrugged, “but if he shows up wearing one of those all-consuming face guards, I think I might could summon the energy to hang around for awhile.”
“You know,” Jack smiled, “if you ever run for public office there will be strong disagreements during the campaign, but I don’t think it would be in the best interest of your political career to take a jab at your opponent.”
Grant laughed to himself because, though he tried to envision he and Hailey out on the campaign trail together, all he seemed to be able to picture was a Fox News Alert announcing that the potential first lady had delivered a crotch shot to an opposing candidate in defense of her man. He shivered as he shook the thought from his head.
Jack and Grant turned to see the rest of the team filing into the gym. Hailey’s eyes met Grant’s, but she quickly looked away, knowing it was probably best if she just did what she was there to do and focused on her game.
Hailey drove her four-wheeler up next to Grant as he shot free throws at the hoop out back underneath the barn’s glowing motion lights. “Hop on,” she urged, smiling.
Grant tossed the ball toward the barn and climbed aboard behind Hailey.
“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” Hailey said, driving slowly across the open field.
“I’m thinking I might just need to go away for awhile and have some time to clear my head,” Grant said, looking out across the pasture as bright headlights lit their way.
Hailey ignored Grant for a moment as she gave the four-wheeler some gas and sped off into the night. Bringing them to an abrupt stop next to a wooden fence, she dismounted the four-wheeler and crossed her arms. “You’re staying; you’re not staying! I want to leave; now I want to stay!” she protested. “Honestly, part of me wants to beg you to stick around, but, if you need me to persuade you of all the reasons why I think you ought to hang around, then maybe you aren’t at the same place that I am with this relationship. At this point, I don’t care either way…would you please just make up your mind already? Lately I feel like a puppet on a string, and I’m sick and tired of letting you dictate my emotions.”
“It has never been my intention to toy with your feelings,” Grant said as he maneuvered atop the fence, sitting with his elbows resting on his knees.
“I didn’t suggest it was part of your plan,” Hailey sighed as she sat next to him, “but that doesn’t change the way I feel. I feel like getting close to you again was probably a monumental mistake because, sooner or later, you’ll get bored and walk away.”
“You know I like being around you, Hailey,” Grant shrugged. “I enjoy the dynamic between the two of us. It’s something I’ve never shared with anyone else, and it’s certainly something I would like to give a chance to materialize. I just think I need a break…not from you…just from everything.”
Hailey rolled her eyes. “I think you’re a stronger person than that. We have our first game next week! You are the starting point guard; you can’t skip town right now!”
“Listen,” Grant shook his head, “let’s not make this a conversation about my loyalty, my integrity or my character. This is about me and what I need to do for myself. It’s just basketball, after all…”
“A game you love,” Hailey nodded.
“And a team I don’t feel a part of,” Grant shrugged.
“This probably isn’t the best time to discuss this; it’s been a long day,” Hailey frowned, poking her bottom lip out, as she tried not to stare at Grant’s black eye.
“It’s about more than the fight,” Grant said, shaking his head. “It’s about me stepping up and getting my life back on track.”
“And why does that have to include quitting the team?” Hailey gulped. “When it comes to basketball, you and I are just alike,” Hailey nodded. Grant started to reply, but Hailey covered his mouth with her finger. “When you run out of the locker room,” she began as she slowly pulled her hand away from his mouth, “leading your team onto the court and they start playing that Rock-n-Jock music…Ready to Rumble… your heart starts beating fast. Not because you’re nervous, but because you’re ready. The music is intense. You can feel it inside of you, and it’s doing something to you that you know it’s not doing to the other guys around you. When they introduce you as the starting point guard, and you shake the opposing coach’s hand, you do it in such a way the he knows he’s in trouble for even thinking his guys could play on the same court with you. You stand there before the game, listening to the words of the national anthem, and you imagine that you’re somewhere else. The crowd you’re staring out at, they’re there to watch the NBA finals, and you’re Michael Jordan. The words of the song, they make you proud to be an American, proud to wear the jersey, and proud that in a couple of minutes when that buzzer sounds, all eyes are going to be on you.”
“Are you done yet?” Grant laughed.
“Isn’t it the truth?” Hailey shrugged.
“It sounds a little romanticized if you ask me,” Grant smiled.
“Well, you’re smiling,” Hailey pointed.
