Page 3 of Hard to Take

Nova doesn’t look convinced.

My phone buzzes.

Speak of the devil.

“Is that him?” Nova prompts.

“Yes.” Part of me wants to hear his voice, but there’s nothing I need from him. I tuck the phone in in my pocket, letting it go to voicemail.

“I’m over it. He did what I needed him to do. We can go back to?—”

“Looking too long at one another across every room you’re both in? Flirting incessantly? Single-handedly making me want to write fanfic?”

I glare at my friend. “Nothing. We can go back to being nothing.”

I’m not taking any more calls from my brother’s guard dog. Not losing any more sleep on a crush that has lasted longer than my favorite pair of shoes.

At least I’ve made enough to cover my rent for the month.

Nova and I finish our coffee talking about more pleasant topics and I head home.

On my way, I send a text to my landlord to tell him I’ll have my December rent payment to him tomorrow.

A message comes back.

Rent is going up January 1.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

2

MILES

Hoopsnews Update: Kodiaks Cling To Third In The West Heading Into Holidays

“Three wins in a row, baby! That’s what you call a streak,” Rookie hollers.

“Sit your short-attention-span ass on the bench and I’ll show you a streak,” Damon, one of our new guys, counters.

The Kodiaks are clustered around our gym, warmed up and ready to practice.

The last week of wins should have me riding high, especially since we got them on other teams’ home courts.

Somehow, the grin that usually comes as easily as breathing still takes effort.

“The road trip had some positive signs.” Coach addresses us from the front of practice. “But we need reinforcements.” He turns to the head trainer intently, willing him for good news.

Heading into December, the first six weeks of the season are finished and we’re starting to see what kind of team we have.

And, almost as important, what kind of team everyone else has.

We’re midway up the standings, which is midway down depending on how you look at it. It’s good enough to still be in line for a playoff spot, but it’s not enough to stop the talk that we won’t repeat as champions.

“It’s going to be a few more weeks before Atlas is back in workouts,” our trainer informs us.

Jay covers his face with both hands as he paces. Clay shifts back in his chair, jaw working.

Rookie throws a towel at Atlas, who lifts both hands as if to say, “Not my fault.”

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