Page 75 of Out of Bounds

Cliff froze for a second, like he assumed most people did when they were told their words were being recorded. This was a puff piece, a get-to-know the interim point guard. She wasn’t going to ask him his thoughts on campaign finance reform.

“Sure.”

She tapped her phone to start the recording. “That was an incredible victory you pulled off last night. We beat Canadensis for the first time in five years. What was going through your mind when you saw Dan Altshuler get injured?”

“First of all, Dan was the cornerstone of our victory. He led us for the majority of the game. He’s the heart of this team, and we can’t wait to have him back on the court.” As much as he disliked Altshuler, he had to give credit where due. Altshuler might’ve been an asshole, but he was an asshole who put every ounce of effort he had into his game. Cliff felt bad that he’d be sidelined for a while; he would be miserable if that happened to him.

Still, Cliff was surprised that he managed to say that last part with a straight face.

“We’re all wishing him a speedy recovery here. Do you know when he’s expected to be back?”

“I don’t.” He wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be public knowledge yet. When talking to reporters, it was better to err on telling too little rather than too much.

“Even though you were only in the game for a few minutes, it felt like a different dynamic on the court. The team seemed like a more cohesive unit.”

Serena had a great eye. Too bad Cliff couldn’t tell her that.

“It’s the same team.”

“What will be your approach to leading the Whitetails on the court moving forward?”

“Same strategy as we’ve been doing.” Cliff stopped himself. There was no harm in shedding a little light. After all, he did have ideas he thought were good. He wanted to show Serena that he didn’t simply luck into this spot. He was going to earn his place. “Well, I think there’s room for more ways to highlight different players’ strengths and make the team even more collaborative.” The words kept on coming. Ideas Cliff had been sitting on for weeks rushed out. “Savage has a preternatural ability with hitting three-pointers. Cudia is incredibly fast. These are things I’ve noticed watching our games, and I’d like to see them leveraged more.”

She asked him a few more questions about his thoughts on the upcoming games against Columbus U., his background playing in Wisconsin, and hopes for the future (aka NBA). The interview went much better than he was expecting. She was a peer, someone he could talk sports with, and she put him at ease.

“Now that you’re becoming more well known on campus, the question will come up. Do you have a girlfriend?”

“What?”

Serena had some embarrassment darken her cheeks. “A few girls in my sorority wanted me to ask. I’m sure plenty of other girls want to know, too.”

She hadn’t tapped her phone to pause the recording.

Cliff didn’t answer right away. Each second that passed where he said nothing opened him up to more suspicion. Were Brennan and he dating? It sure felt like they were a couple to Cliff, but maybe that was all in his head. Could they even put a label on their relationship if Cliff was still in the closet?

He still hadn’t answered Serena’s question. She leaned forward waiting for a response.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I should’ve asked if you were into women in the first place. Forget I asked the quest--”

“I’m single,” Cliff said as fast as he could. “And looking for a girlfriend, if you know anyone.”

What have I just done?He thought as the seconds ticked on the recording app.

I saved myself, Cliff said to himself, but from what, he wasn’t sure.

26

BRENNAN

It had been twenty-four hours since Cliff properly introduced himself to the world of college basketball and whooped Canadensis College’s ass. Aside from a one-word text to let him know he couldn’t make their art lesson, Brennan hadn’t heard from him. He couldn’t imagine what Cliff was dealing with today; he’d been the topic of conversation in Brennan’s non-art class that morning. He knew how uncomfortable Cliff felt in the limelight, and he wanted to support him and see how he was doing.

Cliff doesn’t want to be around you.Paul’s sneering voice popped into his head.I guarantee he isn’t thinking about you. He has a whole life waiting for him.

“Shut up,” he whispered to himself as he walked to Don Pablos for some illicit happy hour margaritas.

Ever since he left the basketball arena by himself, Paul’s ugly voice had crept into his head to give him company. Hopefully alcohol would flush it out. Fortunately, Alex had already gotten a pitcher for them. Brennan gave him an awkward hug from behind his chair.

“How are you holding up?” Brennan poured himself a margarita. Alex was halfway through what he hoped was drink number one.