Page 52 of Definitely Not a Thing

I stowed the phone in my pocket, then unlocked and opened it to find him grinning.

“You know I heard your loud ass friend, right?”

Of course he had.

“How can I help you?” I asked, instead of entertainingthatat all, since Calvin was a little too slick at the mouth for me to not get caught up. “Oh!” I quipped, eyes wide, as he welcomed himself inside before turning to me to raise and flex his arms.

“Guess who gets to start training camp next week?” he boasted, making me laugh.

“Congratulations, I’m assuming?” I replied. “That’s a good thing, right?”

He frowned at me a moment before shaking his head. “Damn, youreallydon’t fuck with the sportsball, huh?”

“I don’t” I admitted. “But, Ilovethat for you… I think?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “It’s a good thing. That call I got, it was from my agent, so I couldn’t let it get past me. Sorry for interrupting our conversation though.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Was it a conversation?”

“It was certainlyaboutto be,” he said, moving closer to me. “Something about you admiring my elite athletic physique… remember?”

“Not even a little.” I crossed my arms. “Back to important matters – you were worried about not getting invited to training camp? That’s like… summer practice?”

He scoffed. “More like fucking… tryouts. I’m being given a chance to earn back my spot on the team.”

“Which is…?”

“Shooting guard,” he said. “Although, technically, that’s not really?—”

“Please don’t… I’m not gonna have any idea what you’re talking about,” I said, stopping him before he launched into whatever technicality he was about to explain. “What do youdo?”

He laughed. “Uh… make buckets, and make however is trying to keep me from making said buckets look silly whenever I can.”

“Okay,thatI understand… I think. But… and forgive me if this is too nosy, but that sounds super important. So… if you were responsible for that… why do you need to prove yourself to the team?” I asked. “Like… why do you have toearn backyour spot?”

Calvin sighed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his shorts. “Uh… I got suspended from the league a few months ago – couldn’t finish the season.”

“Damn – what did you do?!”

“Uh…” he blew outanothersigh. “I kinda… punched a coach, mid-game.”

My eyes went wide.

Ididn’tfuck with the sportsball, and evenIknew…

“Yeah, it was pretty bad,” he agreed, nodding. “I still feel like I actually didn’t do enough, but I probably would’ve gotten banned… and arrested… so… everything considered, it went as well as it could.”

“Calvin… now why the hell would youpuncha coach?!” I asked. “The other team?!”

“Nah. One of mine,” he admitted. “But in my defense… I warned his ass it was coming.”

I shook my head. “My mind is blown – you punched one of your coaches and you’re still on the team?”

“I’m still oncontract,” he corrected me. “On the team is yet to be determined, which is why… training camp.”

“I get that part, but still. Everybody must not like him or something?”

“Literally the most punchable nigga on the planet,” Calvin explained. “Myheadcoach wasn’t even mad like that for real, but it wasconduct unbecomingor some bullshit. As ifhisass wasn’t… you know what, never mind, before I get pissed all over again,” he chuckled, and I nodded.