Page 68 of On Merit Alone

Chapter Thirty-Six

Ira

“Yo, where’d you find all the extra kids?”

Everyone’s eyes slid over to Stephens, expressions varying from confusion to bewilderment crossing their faces. McKivvey was the brave one to speak, “Could you please not say shit like that? You sound like a creep.”

Nobody disagreed which just made Stephens chuff. “What? I’m not trying to take any of them. I just want to know how we scored so many.”

I covered my mouth with my fist, a cough stifling my laughter. Across the group I caught amused brown eyes, her soft smile feeling like a secret as she tucked it into her shoulder.

“You’re actually making it worse, Mike,” Merit added softly.

I smiled to myself. At the beginning of all this, when I first realized her propensity to shy away from social interactions, I had no idea how nice it would be to finally see her comfortable in a group of our peers.

Now, as I watched her give away her laughs freely and smiles even looser than that, I only wanted to murder Stephens a little bit for having her address him so familiarly.

It had taken a little distance and a little heartache, but I could see now that Merit was blooming.

Spreading her heart out wider; slow and carefully, like she always was—but trying.

I could see it in the way that she was with her friends, Emily and Charlie, inviting them places and opening conversations with them more.

The way she was with mine, laughing along with their antics or cracking soft jokes like the one she’d just made.

Merit was becoming comfortable with being Merit more than just in basketball. She was evolving in all the ways I hoped for her. At this point, I wasn’t sure I could continue to be awed by her. I wasn’t sure it was possible that she could make me prouder. But somehow she always found a way.

Coughing again, I cut my admiration of her short.

There was something tight that always arose in my chest whenever I thought too hard about Merit’s resolve.

Even though it had been misplaced for a long time, it was never out of weakness.

It was out of pain. And as soon as she started to reroute that pain into something more hopeful, she hadn’t looked back.

Just like in all of her choices, when she decided to go for it, she went all in.

It was admirable, the way she stuck to her guns.

The way she fought for what she wanted. The way she just knew things about herself without having to second-guess them.

And on top of wanting to be enough for her—to be everything for her I could be and give everything else that I couldn’t be on my own—I also wanted to be like her.

To know myself so well that when challenged and forced to grow, I too could make the decision to face things head on without looking back, like she seemed to have no problem doing.

Grand notions aside, however, none of it seemed to be working out that way for me at all.

Even though I was sure speaking to Kimmy those weeks ago had actually done me some good, I still hadn’t been able to place what exactly that good was.

It was like reading the middle chapter of a self-help book first. All the points resonated with me somehow, but I had missed the context of the previous chapters to fully grasp what was right in front of my face.

I knew now that I wanted to play, but I didn’t know for how long. And after that, I knew in the future I wanted to be more than just a basketball player, yet somehow I wanted the game to remain in my life.

I’m just lucky nothing in my life required me to know more by now, because beyond those “miraculous realizations”, I was stumped.

“Alright big guy,” I cleared my throat as I slapped Stephens over the shoulder. “Tone it down. I think your cousin just showed up.”

“Niece,” he corrected. Looking over his shoulder at the quickly filling parking lot—Moms and kids and sisters and brothers all hopping out of minivans and SUVs and popping trunks and grabbing bags—he gave us a short salute before jogging away. “Lemme go tell them about the new setup.”

We were in the park today. More specifically, we were at the park beside the Denver Youth Recreation Center on the inner scape of town.

This was originally supposed to be another one of our charity team practices, but after a long week of grueling games for the girls, we decided to give something different a shot.

Most of the credit had to go to Stephens. First for having a niece who played basketball for a “littles team” and second for having the idea that instead of practicing for a game that wasn’t even real, we put our time toward a worthy cause. Making children smile.

So we were putting on a small clinic. Working with boys and girls from the city in a camp style program for the day.

I assume it was all an orchestration to get Merit to meet his niece, but it was also a great idea.

One that no one on either charity game team opposed even for a second.

Which is why we were all out here on a Sunday morning, watching as hordes of kids rushed down the hill toward the park.

The amount of kids though, Stephens was right. There were a ton of them! And from the looks of the amount that were actually in some sort of uniform, not all of them were from the Littles Team.

All of the Denver players had helped organize this, each taking a small chunk of responsibility to accomplish it on such short notice. Yet, nobody seemed to know where the extra kids came from.

My eye caught on something at the corner of my vision. A braided woman looking awfully suspicious as she raised up to her toes and peeked around the ever filling parking lot as if she was looking for something. Someone .

I followed Merit’s line of vision as she watched over the parking lot, her lip caught firmly between her teeth.

My eyebrows cascaded downward as I watched her face bloom into a smile as soon as a little white bus pulled into the lot.

I don’t know how, but right then I knew that she had something to do with the extra children.

And she proved me right as she bounced onto the balls of her feet, already moving to leave before she even looked at me to say, “The rest of the kids are here! Start rounding everyone up and we can start in ten minutes.”

“Kids from where?” I called after her, but she was already gone.

Running up the hill toward the white bus with a giddy pep to her step that I don’t think I’d ever seen before.

Casting a skeptical glance beside me, Emily came into view.

I crossed my arms and looked back at Merit who was taking a step back as kids began to file out of the bus doors and pointing them down the hill toward us. “What’s that about?”

“Beats me.” Emily shrugged. “She and Mike have been texting all week about this thing. I wouldn’t be surprised if he knew but was only playing dumb.”

I bristled. Did I say I wasn’t going to rip Mike’s throat out? I think I meant I was. Friend or not, he needed to lose my girlfriend’s number.

Girlfriend.

Jesus. Merit and I hadn’t officially talked about it, but there was no way she wasn’t my girl.

Even the title girlfriend seemed too small for what she meant to me.

But I wasn’t in the habit of rushing her, and I wouldn’t start now.

So if there was no other label in between enjoying each other’s company and married, then I’d happily dawn that of boyfriend until I could make it official.

“Emily Nash, you are diabolical. He’s going to pop a vessel just thinking about Merit texting another man,” Charlie, Merits other friend, said.

The words were framed as sympathetic but delivered in an amused snort of laughter.

“But never mind all that lover boy. Are we going to do this thing or what? I think they’re starting to circle. If they surround us, we’re done for.”

This caused my own snort. “They’re just kids. You make them sound like vultures.”

She gave me a haunted look. “Isn’t that the same thing?”

I laughed. “Oh lord. Get behind me then. You can use me as a human shield, since you’re so afraid of them.”

She gave me a mocking face as I passed her along with the rest of the players who started to follow me down our side of the hill.

Arriving earlier, we had already set up the stations we were going to use before anyone had gotten here.

We brought water bottles and coolers for any kids who didn’t bring their own.

We had speakers playing PG music that we hoped the kids would like.

And we even had a little tented area where parents could sit and watch with protection from the summer heat.

The only thing left to do was divide the kids and get started.

That part was easy too. I was originally going to let somebody else take the lead, maybe Merit or even Mike.

They’d played more of a hand getting this thing together, it only seemed right for them to direct it.

But then I made it to the front of this group of little boys and girls, all herded into one big glob of fidgeting little fingers and bouncing little toes, and all of a sudden I felt like one of them.

Not that I felt approximately four to seven years old, which was the age demographic for the group, but I felt that rushing excitement of newness and awe and enthusiasm that I remember when I did these things as a kid.

Mike seemed busy enough with wrangling his arms free from a couple of kids who decided they wanted to try climbing him, and Merit was talking to a small woman with a clipboard familiarly as she helped to lead the extra kids into the back of the group.

So really it made sense for me to take over, even though my attempt to give someone else a chance to lead was half-hearted at best.