Page 185

Let’s be fucking clear.

But work.

He was faster than me, and his jumper had gotten way better since the last time I’d seen him really play. I had strength on him though, and every time he tried to get cute, I took his ass straight to the basket.

“That’s a foul!” he yelled.

“That’s weight room.”

“You pushed me!”

“Get stronger.”

“Nigga—”

I pointed at him.

He laughed. “My fault. My fault.”

By the time we stopped, both of us were sweating.

Henry dropped onto the bleachers and pulled his shirt up to wipe his face.

I sat beside him.

For a minute, neither of us said shit.

Just caught our breath.

Then I bumped his knee with mine.

“You nice.”

He looked over.

“That’s all I get?”

“What you want, a trophy?”

“Something.”

I laughed.

“You real nice.”

He smiled.

“Rutgers coach called again.”

My head turned. “When?”

“Yesterday.”

“What he say?”

“Same shit. They want me to come back up there. Meet some more of the team.”

“You wanna go?”