Page 48 of Personal Foul
“Well, anytime you are missing your dad, or you want someone to shoot hoops with, you give me a call.”
He stops bouncing the ball, holding it under his arm against his waist. “You really mean that?”
“Of course, I do!”
His eyes widen in surprise, nodding his head as if trying to accept my answer.
“What’s on your mind?”
“I guess I’m surprised. What would make you want to spend your time on a kid like me?”
I stop, turning to stare at him. The broken-down look on his face reminds me of how he looked when I first showed up at his house earlier to pick him up.
“C’mon.” I wave him over, turning and walking over to the players’ bench where the team and I sit during games. I point at the chair, motioning for him to have a seat, as I pull out one to face him.
His leg bounces, folding his hands together while he watches me circle around the chair before having a seat in front of him.
“How often do you say things like that to yourself?”
“Like what?”
I sigh, leaning toward him, resting my elbows on my knees. “How often do you beat on yourself, like you don’t understand why someone would want to spend time with an awesome kid like you?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs, ducking his head, not looking me in the eye.
“Listen to me. I know you can’t change your circumstances. Youcancontrol how you react to it. You can wake up today, and you can let it be a bad day, or you can get up and choose to be positive.”
“Yeah.” He nods. “It’s just . . . it’s hard to stay positive sometimes. I see the way kids at school look at me. I hear what they say and how they whisper about my shoes or my clothes. They make fun of me for not having a family.”
I struggle to avoid showing my emotions, shaking my head to disguise the urge to wince. I hate how cruel kids can be sometimes.
“I’m sorry, kid. I truly am. When you’re in my shoes, you have the public focusing all their attention on you. They wait for you to mess up, to call you out on it, tell you what you did wrong.
“You’ll find in life people will say mean and hurtful things to bring others down. What’s important is how well you know yourself and how you talk to yourself. You have to change the voice inside your head, be kind, and you’ll go much further in life than if you choose to focus on the negative.”
He nods, running his hand over his face, letting out a slow but heavy breath.
“Families come in all different shapes, sizes, and colors. Some families don’t even share the same blood.”
Isaac nods, a smile breaking across his face. Something about my comment changed him, and you can almost feel the weight of whatever was on his mind lift.
“Now, what do you say we play another game of horse?”
“You got it!”
I hold out my hand toward him and he shakes it. Shooting up out of his chair, Isaac jogs to where his ball now sits on the ground a few seats away.
We’ve both worked up a sweat when we hear someone cheering from behind us. Turning, we see Sydney dressed in a Blaze jersey with my number, shorts, and tennis shoes.
Her hair is in a ponytail on top of her head, swaying as she jogs toward us with her hands in the air like she’s waving pom-poms.
“Good game, boys. Good game!”
She looks adorable running toward us. She shoots me a knowing smirk, watching how my eyes trail over her body.
“Isaac, do you remember Sydney from the Community Cares event? She’s my girlfriend.” I wag my brows, my back toward him, knowing he can’t see me.
Her eyes narrow for bringing up the word girlfriend. She waves her finger at me as if telling me to behave myself. I hold my hands in the air, letting the ball bounce to a stop a few feet in front of me in mock surrender.
