Page 65 of Game Changer

My teammates began to look at me like I had no hope of recovery, and they weren't wrong.

It took Jay, who played for a rival team, to get me started on the right path again and get me back on track to Finals.

It also made me lose trust in anyone in a suit.

Ultimately, it taught me what I needed to focus on: being on the court and playing basketball with everything that I had.

“What would it take to open yourself up to connecting with another person? Without judgment or cynicism?” my therapist asks.

“A miracle.”

But Nova’s face appears in my mind, and despite the years of baggage and rejection of everything that’s not basketball, I want to try.

18

NOVA

“Are we close?” I ask, glancing toward Clay crammed into the passenger seat.

Even with the seat pushed back as far as it can go, the car still feels too small for us both.

When I mentioned I wanted to meet with Robin, Clay offered to bring me. Tomorrow, he’s flying to Atlanta for a preseason game, but until then, he’s free. I said yes without hesitation, although with the condition that I could drive.

We pass rolling hills sprinkled with the odd house, and the tension builds in me.

“How much farther?” I ask.

“Turn here.”

I follow his directions. “You do this all without a GPS?”

“Spent a lot of time here while I was rehabbing.”

A lane appears from nowhere, rising out of a grove of trees. Suddenly, the camp is spread out before us—green hills, flags and banners, log structures. The bright blue of a lake sparkles beyond, racks of colorful canoes and kayaks lining the beach.

It’s a dream only half an hour from Denver.

The tension in my chest relaxes as I take in our surroundings.

“This is amazing!” I gush.

We’re barely out of the car when a smiling woman with an athletic build and graying hair comes to greet us.

“You must be Nova. I’m Robin, director of the camp.” She shakes my hand before turning to the man at my side. “Hello, you.”

Robin embraces Clay, and I’m surprised to see he lets her.

“I’ll keep myself busy. I’ll catch you back here in an hour or so.” Clay shoves both hands in his pockets and heads toward another set of buildings.

“Thank you for your time, especially on short notice,” I say.

I expand on what I told her on the phone, explain what Harlan’s trying to do and that I’d like to ask a few questions to improve the plan.

“Why don’t we start with a quick tour?”

“I’d love that.”

We take the lane up to the main building, a huge log cabin. Inside, we walk the perimeter of the building while she answers one question after another. I take a few notes on my phone, but mostly I know I’ll remember.

---