Page 151 of Loving the Legend
“It’s bigger than basketball! I knew you wouldn’t get it. All you—” His phone rings, interrupting whatever insult he was winding up to hurl at me. He snatches it out of his pocket.
“Yo, you copped it?” he says into the phone.
I scoff in disbelief. The gall to take a call right now.
“Yeah, I’m good. Aight. Good lookin’...I got your back too. Aight…yeah…let me hit you up tomorrow.”
My jaw clenches. I’m ninety-nine percent sure I know who’s on the phone.
“Arnaz?” I ask through gritted teeth as soon as he hangs up.
“Mm-hmm,” he grunts, sliding his phone back into his pocket.
“Why is he calling this late?”
“I forgot my chain in the locker room, and he grabbed it for me. What’s your deal?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that he’s in love with you.”
He scoffs. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it? I see the way he looks at you.”
“Whatever,” he brushes past me up the staircase.
“That’s it? You want to skin anyone who dares to flirt with me, but when the shit’s reversed, it’s whatever?”
“When it’s bullshit, yeah!” He throws over his shoulder as he retreats.
“Why are you getting so angry, then?” I ask, trailing him.
“Because he’s the only one who had my back tonight, and you’re making our friendship out to be something that it’s not. It’s fucked up.”
I freeze. “You don’t think I have your back?”
I stand at the top of the landing, stunned when he doesn’t answer. I try to will away the sting behind my eyes.
How the fuck did we get here? I know I messed things up, refusing to get help and lying to him, but when did all of this resentment grow inside of him?
He’s the only one who had my back tonight.
I wipe my eyes quickly.
It’s the shittiest thing he’s ever said to me. It’s simply not true. I can disagree with some of his actions and still stand by his side. Why the fuck are we together if he doesn’t know that? A fresh wave of anger hits. I need to be far away from him right now. Trembling, I beeline to our dressing room, slam the door, and start jamming clothes into a duffle.
He’s the only one who had my back tonight.
I wipe my eyes on the sleeve of my T-shirt.
Why’s he with me then?
I rip my jeans off of a hanger when his chest presses against my back, and his hands cover my own. “You’re not leaving like this. You’re upset. I’ll sleep in a guest room.”
Pulling away from him, I clasp onto the duffel. “No!” I reply, wiping my face quickly. “I’m leaving. We both need space.”
He lets out an exasperated breath. “I’m tired of space.”
I shrug. “Fine. I need space then.”
