Page 20 of Scoring the Player
Like his chewing, the banging on the other side of the door intensifies.
“It was a peace offering.” I turn my head and call out over my shoulder, “Yo, we’re good. Chill.”
“Open the goddamn door!” the guard demands.
“See? Right there.” I nod to Blue’s eyes when I turn back and catch him watching me. “They’re spilling with light. Puddles and puddles.”
He straightens up.
“Watch me anytime.”
The chewing stops.
“I like what it does to your face.” I flip the lock and push back on the door. “Later, Kitten.” I toss him his shades. “See you in LA.”
CHAPTER 5
ARNAZ
PRESENT DAY
Remove the twenty thousand echoing voices, lights, and music, and the main court is my favorite spot in the arena. Dropping into a bleacher chair, I stare up at the jerseys of legends that came before me. Sid wants the Royals to be his home for the rest of his career. Me? I’m not sure. My teammates are my boys, and the current management is cool enough, but…I don’t know. LA forever? I don’t see it.
Still, I can’t deny the questions that hang in the air whenever I’m here—Will my name be up there one day? And if not, will it be because of my game or because I decided to come out? I’ve only ever been good at a few things. Football, which I quit early out of spite. Singing, at least from what people tell me, though I haven’t felt like singing for a while. I enjoy writing songs, and I guess it doesn’t matter if I’m good at it, because the world will never hear them. Then there’s playing the piano and guitar, which feel more natural than playing ball.
I’ve had to work hard at basketball every single day. Joining the Royals alongside Sid took my game to the next level, but it still takes work. More work than most would believe.
My phone buzzes.
I slide it out of my pocket and answer. “Hey, Cat.”
“Oh, great! I caught you.” The voice of Catharine, my agent, filters through. “How’s my favorite client?”
“I know you say that to all of us.”
She laughs. “Have I given you a reason not to trust?”
“Never.”
“Exactly. This a good time?”
“Yeah.” I climb to my feet. “Leaving practice.”
“Coach Derek in a good mood?”
“Ha.”
“That bad, huh?”
“We had to run penalty 17s and suicides because a rook showed up late.”
“Ouch. I just had a client benched for a week for rocking a player who caused extra 17s every practice.”
“I heard about that. Dallas?”
“Just ’cause you’re my favorite doesn’t mean I’ll break client confidentiality.”
I smirk. “Keepin’ all of our secrets.”
