Page 39 of Spin Serve

“Aisha, how are you feeling about the win tonight?” she asked, holding her microphone to the team’s shooting guard.

“It was a team win, you know? Della went out early with that ankle, so everyone just stepped up and stepped in, and we showed that we know how to get it done no matter who’s on the court.”

“Any concerns about Della’s ankle?”

“I don’t know. You’d have to ask Coach that. She’s strong, though. And I know she wants to get back on the court, so she’ll be working hard to do that.”

“And this was a big win tonight. You scored eighteen and had a double-double. That’s your third of the season.” Kendra moved the microphone back over to her interviewee’s mouth.

“Yeah, you know, it’s just about who’s next up, who’s got the open shot, who can make the best pass. We got it done tonight. That’s what matters.”

No matter who she interviewed, every woman she spoke to talked about the team’s performance, shying away from taking credit for their own, even when their own was a big part of why they’d won. Kendra loved that part of interviewing female athletes. It could be so different from talking to some of their male counterparts.

After she wrapped up her interviews and the follow-up work she had to do, Kendra returned to her hotel room and sat on the bed, exhausted and starving. Unfortunately for her, it was after eleven, so the hotel’s restaurant was closed. She supposed most other restaurants would be closed by now, too, but it was a Saturday night; she could probably find one in the city that was still open. She just didn’t have the energy to go back out and decided that she’d wait for breakfast the following morning.

Kendra dug into her bag and found a granola bar, which she’d packed for a plane as a snack that she hadn’t ended up eating. She bit into it as she checked in for her flight the next day, which wouldn’t take her home but to another location of the game she’d be covering tomorrow night. Her phone dinged with a notification just as she’d hit the check-in button.

Aspen Ashley: Nice game.

Kendra smiled and decided that her initial concerns over giving Aspen her number were now assuaged solely because of this text message and the winking emoji Aspen had added to it.

Kendra Bowie: You act like I was the one playing.

The three typing bubbles appeared immediately, so Kendra chewed and leaned back on the bed, waiting for another message.

Aspen Ashley: That wasn’t you hitting all those threes in the fourth quarter?

Kendra laughed, and a chocolate chip flew out of her mouth, landing on the white, cheap hotel comforter. She quickly picked it up so it wouldn’t stain and set it on the bedside table to deal with later.

Kendra Bowie: No, that wasn’t me. I was the one standing next to her when it was all over.

Aspen Ashley: My bad. I must have gotten confused.

Kendra laughed.

Aspen Ashley: What are you up to?

Kendra Bowie: Eating a granola bar that I’m glad I saved because I’m starving, and the hotel restaurant is closed. And I still need to shower before I go to sleep. I have a flight tomorrow morning to New York.

Aspen Ashley: You’re in Seattle. They don’t have food delivery there?

Kendra Bowie: They do, but I’m lazy.

Aspen Ashley: Where are you staying?

Kendra glared at the phone, wondering why she was being asked that question. She sent Aspen the name of the hotel anyway, though, and waited to see what the woman would message her next. It took longer than Kendra thought it would for the text to appear.

Aspen Ashley: I remember you say you liked pepperoni pizza. One should be there in about thirty minutes. I got you breadsticks and a drink, too. I’m sure you’re tired and don’t want to go grab it from the desk, so I also just called your hotel’s front desk and asked them to take it to your room. I might have lied and told them you’re injured and can’t walk because you hurt your knee, so maybe act injured or something when you check out tomorrow. The app delivery guys wouldn’t be allowed to go up to your room anyway, but if you don’t want the food I ordered, I can call the hotel back and tell them that they can keep it.

Kendra read the message a couple of times to make sure she’d gotten that all right. Aspen had ordered her dinner. No, first, Aspen had remembered that Kendra liked pepperoni pizza, which Kendra had mentioned the other night at coffee, when they’d talked about maybe ordering something in for dinner and sharing it. That plan hadn’t come to fruition that night because Aspen’s mom had called and needed to talk to her about something, but Aspen had remembered. She’d remembered, and she’d ordered Kendra dinner.

Kendra Bowie: Aspen, you didn’t have to do that. I would’ve been fine.

Aspen Ashley: I don’t like the idea of you only having a granola bar for dinner. I’m tracking it on my phone, and they’re currently making your pizza. I doubt it’ll be the best pizza of your life, but it’ll at least be better than a granola bar.

Kendra Bowie: What do you have against granola bars?

Aspen Ashley: Nothing. But they’re not dinner.

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