Page 91 of Loving the Legend
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Jolted awake, I stab the heel of my palm against my sternum to trap the gurgling acid. The pressure punches its way up, dragging last night’s dinner. Lurching to the side of the bed, I grab the wastebasket. As I fall back to my pillow, I pull in air and listen to the fading echoes of my mother’s shriek. I fist the comforter to keep from palming my forehead like countless times before. There won’t be blood. This is real life.
I stare out the window and darkness stares back. I reach for my phone and groan. It’s only twelve minutes past four in the morning. There are two missed calls, a voicemail, and an unread text. I read the text first and grin.
My love: Happy Birthday, baby! I can’t wait to celebrate with you. I tried to catch you. HMU when you wake up. I love you!
A tinge of unease worms around my inflamed stomach. Tonight’s our last together before Sid heads to Vegas for the Olympics training camp. It’s no surprise he was selected to join the twelve-member U.S. Olympic Men’s Basketball Team to represent the U.S. in Barcelona next month. It’s been a crazyfew weeks for him since winning the championship. Nonstop interviews and appearances on television, podcasts, everywhere.
I hit play on Adam’s voicemail.
“Kiddo, I regret that when you get this message, I’d have already reached the ripe age of sixty-eight. You may be wondering how the heck I can age twenty-four years in a single day. Well, it’s funny you ask. I thought the same when I woke up and saw today’s date. I scratched my head and thought, well, now, how can that be? It was just yesterday that I was holding you in my arms, parading you around the firehouse as you gurgled up spit bubbles and pissed all over my uniform. The only answer I’ve come up with is that we’ve fallen victim to a wicked time warp.
Cripes!
Happy Birthday, son! It’s a blessing to watch you grow up. They’d be so proud of you. I’m crazy proud of you. Ishan wishes you a Happy Birthday too. He said he’s gonna make you a grand birthday cake when you come next month, strawberries and all. Look out for our gift in the mail. I couldn’t love you more, kid. Call me before time leaps again, and you’re fifty!”
I chuckle as I hit the call button, but then I remember the time and hang up. If I call now, Adam would guess I’m up because I had a nightmare, and he’ll be all over me about seeing a therapist. I drop the phone on the mattress, climb out of bed, and grab the wastebasket. I can sleep on the flight later.
“Fuck, that burns,”I groan.
Before I can slam the shot glass down, Kaleb refills it again.
I wave him off. “I’m good!”
“Nah, you ain’t. But you will be after you toss back a few more of these bad boys.” I hitch forward as he slaps me on the back.
“Ay!” Idris nods at me. “No brooding tonight, homie. We put up with your dark and stormy shit all season. It’s your birthday, aight! We’d have failed you if you ain’t lit before the night’s out.”
“Y’all suck,” I grumble as I toss back three more shots.
“Datta boy. Give that a few minutes to kick in.” Tevin rubs his palms together as a long-legged woman saunters past our table. “Ass for days,” he mutters in a daze. “I’m fittin’ to make rounds,” he announces.
“Fuck me!” Malik taps my arm. “How are we supposed to choose one?” I trail his gaze to a stripper twerking in a diamond-studded thong and glass platform heels.
“Who said we have to choose one?” Tevin asks, eyebrows arched. “The night’s young, my dude.”
I shake my head.At least, I think I shake it.My body feels a hundred degrees warmer than five minutes ago. I can’t really feel it. I palm my face to see if it’s still there.
Of all the ways I imagined spending my twenty-fourth birthday, I can’t say I saw this. The guys bugged me for weeks about hitting up a club, but I wanted to celebrate it with Sid, especially since it was our last night together, so I turned them down. Then Sid came up with the idea to accept their offer and hit up a club in Miami. The guys dug it. Clubbing in Miami during our off-season was too good to pass up, especially at the coveted mega-club Twelve.
Kaleb passes around bottles of water. When I reach for one, he pulls it back. “You loose yet?”
“Why? Trying to cop a lap dance?” I bend over and attempt a twerk that’s probably all hips, no ass.
His eyes go wide, and then he bursts out laughing. “Fuck yeah! That’s what I’m talkin’ bout.” He throws his arm around me and presses the bottle of water against my chest.
My lips are rubbery as I gulp it down, but thankfully, Tevin passes around chewing gum, and the spearmint helps with my cottonmouth. Besides my chest burning like I swallowed fire, I feel good, really good. My heart thumps to the rhythm of the bass as I close my eyes and rap along to Jay-Z.
I hope Sid’s here soon. I need to fuck or be fucked, both preferably. I’m being lifted off the ground by the bass when a heavy arm drapes over my shoulder.
“Mobbin’ out,” Idris yells into my ear before he joins me, rapping and picking up every other bar. If the goal is to amp me up, it’s working.
“Ay-yo, Pretty Boy can spit.” Kaleb smacks Malik’s chest and nods at me.
Malik grins. “He’s loose alright.”
Tevin, the ultimate hype man, wields a bottle of champagne in one hand like a mic and then slides behind a woman dancing at a nearby table for a slow grind to the outro.
