Content Warning:

*Mentions of Suicide and a suicide letter

*Also, if you lost a parent recently, this might be sensitive topic for you and my condolences are with you.

The empty stadium, filled with blue and white seats speak to my soul on how I feel right now in my heart for eleven years.

I hate February eleventh.

I sigh, adjusting my beats on my head as I dribble and aim at the basket. My arms lift and I sink my first shot right on in.

Everytime I think of the number eleven, I think of the eleven things my mother missed crucially in my life.

There's eleven reasons why I don't want to live, because I just want to be with her.

It's part of that nasty reality of grief, where you just feel like you don't deserve to be here either because the person you love is not here.

Previous years, when this week came, I would have hooked up with any girl I could, probably gotten a tattoo, worked out 'till my muscles were sore, done a million Sudokus, drank myself numb, or just sat around Jones Falls contemplating to jump and have the letter ready like my one-way ticket to join her.

I feel like I had died too and they just forgot to bury me.

I don't want to think about how my mom is not here.

I don't want to picture her on the sofa.

I don't want to still hear the sound of the basketball dropping on the floor.

I don't want to think about how I nearly made myself sick, having to swallow my tears as PJ yelled at me to hurry the fuck up and clean her face.

I don't want to think about smelling her lavender perfume.

I don't want to think about how I could never show her my math test, I worked so hard on and earned all the answers correctly.

I don't want to think about how she wasn't able to take me on my trip to the Smithsonian in DC.

I don't want to think about how she could have taught me how to drive or tying my tie for prom, watching me walking across the stage in high school, making Maryland's college basketball team, meeting Lizzie, watching me across stage for college, being drafted to the NBA, hell even getting married and having children.

I hate being remembered for how she just left me and knowing she left me with a broken heart.

I sigh, dribbling hard again and making another shot.

"Fix your form, Parker!" Coach T blows the whistle.

"Fuck off," I mumble under my breath, straightening up my elbow.

I wish I could shut everything fucking off today but everytime I do, I just remember the recurring film in my mind. Every time, I come in and see the letter folded up in her hands on the sofa.

My sweet Jaylan,

I just want you to know you didn't do this to me. I didn't do this because of you. Mommy struggled a lot with trying to find herself and wanting to be loved. The one person who I wanted to love kept hurting me and I just couldn't go another day knowing he will never love me. I'm sorry Jaylan, I know you will grow up to be the best baseball player in the MLB. I know you will make me proud. When you grow up, please forgive me.

Love,

Mom

I don't understand why it took PJ for her to end it all.

Fuck PJ.

I make a half-court shot, hitting the room loudly.

"OOOOOOOOOOO!" The guys shout in excitement. I chuckle, shake my head, and make another shot.

Didn't I matter?

Did she not think about how it would affect me?

What was she thinking?

Why did she make the decision to give up?

I know I can't live in what if's but what if things were different?

I hate this shit.

Testudo, our mascot who traveled with us, catches my eye as he's working on his routine with the pom pom demons. I wish they didn't come to away games but Ava and Faith demanded it was necessary.

Yeah, necessary to suck dick in the team's hotel.

I make another basket in the hoop cleanly and Jordy smirks so big, pointing at me. I laugh when Coach T throws the ball at him.

He's been on our ass since we left yesterday. We were just putting in extra practice and making sure this rivalry game gets the most highlights.

I tune him out when he starts talking about the defense is going to be all over me, knowing that I'm cleared off an injury and I'm playing.

I knew these emotions were coming up and they burned in my chest on fire Thursday night after practice. For starters, I was shocked that PT cleared me to play. I know personally that I'm not. Mentally and physically, I just can't do it. It took everything in me not to call Ava like I've done the past three years. A little tug when I placed the aloe on my chest reminded me to not go that route, to not jeopardize the true light I need.

Even though Lizzie was sick, I needed her. Something I've never had before about any girl, it makes me sometimes wonder if she needs me like I need her. I battled in my mind to go see her. A little push in a small text from Aunt Lisa saying 'thinking of you this week' was all I needed to go see Homemade Soup Girl.

Luckily, I found Lizzie's calendar that she made me, all crumbled up from the laundry in my pants' pocket. Call it fate maybe? It was national Sick and Shut in Day, whatever the fuck that meant, so of course I had to look it up. Basically, you visit old people who are sick. Lizzie is definitely an old person, going to bed at nine o' clock on the dot.

I knew when asking if I could stay overnight that I was risking it all. Marcus knew the day and helped me out, letting me know he was trying to stay with Ginger Snap overnight because she's trying to teach him something new. I'm not surprised if she ends up pregnant by graduation at the rate they're going every damn day.

Me though, I had to see her, blurry eyes, red, stuffy nose, and wild, crazy bed hair.

I had to talk to her and her Donald Duck voice.

I grin thinking about how her sick voice is ten times cuter and more aggressive... Well, if you want to call it that.

With my darkest day coming up, I needed a dose of sunshine.

When she was home sick, it was probably the most lackluster feeling I've had in awhile. The presence she has shines so brightly in my dark thunderstorm heart. If she is not there, then I feel like the rain clouds just never break open. Her reminding me that I'm not alone is breaking the clouds surrounding my heart. I know she is not my savior because the only person who could be is myself. But I feel like she lights a path and my feet just need to figure out how to follow it.

I slam down the ball with my hands. Its bounced contact echoes over the court.

When we did the Sudoku, my mind stirred, and not about the number solution. She evoked emotions in me that I've stuffed down for ten years. Her words brighten up the dark sky and rumbles in my chest, invoking an emotion I never thought I would ever feel.

Sadness.

I got so choked up by how she truely views me, a family guy just like Aunt Lisa and Uncle Steve. My eyes couldn't trap the tears much longer, as her big, gigantic magnifying glass shone on me to search the mysteries of my heart.

When she said I could sleep with her Thursday night, she said, 'This isn't a sleepover you know' with a poked finger to the chest. With a few added soft kisses, she whimpered, quieting her protest.

Movement out of the corner of my eye, the audience I've drawn this morning, redirects my thoughts to the obvious.

Lizzie is the best fucking kisser and I'm glad I was her first. Waiting so long was hard but then it made our first kiss even better. Whatever inexperience she had initially dissolved when she initiated kissing me in the car.

In bed, with her back against my front, she was so warm, so soft, so cuddly... very cuddly, so cuddly I had to make sure the cobra stayed down when her round ass felt so good against me.

I tried to cop a feel of her precious big fruits but she smacked my hand, lowering it below them to her stomach. That didn't help because I found her belly button ring.

One thing for sure about the anti-vegetable protester is she is a wild sleeper. I've never been thrashed around so much in bed without any action.

She was an octopus, suction attached onto me.

She kicked me in the shin and about kneed me in the balls.

She was a koala, latching onto my side.

She snored softly through her open mouth and drooled on my chest.

She suffocated me with her hair.

She was on top of me like a blanket, pressed up against the side of me with her arm over my chest and leg snaked around mine, making me feel like a damn jungle gym. Not to mention all these stuffed animals she has got in the damn way, with their beady eyes shining in the faint light like they were keeping watch.

At that point, I just put her in a head lock and we slept peacefully the rest of that night. Or, at least she did.

Worst of all? The fact I didn't mind any of it, especially the part where she giggles in her sleep and mumbles in Spanish.

I had peel her off me, not that I minded that either. She would not let go of me, so I replaced my arm with her raggedy giraffe so I wouldn't be late for the bus Friday morning.

I smile thinking how she set the alarm clock for me and made sure she got a good morning kiss before I left while she pretended to be asleep.

I pivot, turn quickly, and jump up a bit to make my shot again.

She left a bright pink sticky note on the octopus... Oh, my bad, sorry, Olivia, with strict instructions.

I chuckle as I look down at my Nike Airs, shaking my head at her preschool voice roaming through my head as I mentally reread them.

1) Make sure you hold her tummy to your heart.

2) Give her some space to stretch her legs so she can stretch.

3) Give her some water if she's thirsty and it's not funny!

4) Make sure you make your bed to make her feel like you are coming back.

The fourth one hit me hard in the chest, making me wonder if that signals something in her past with her dad.

I sigh, dribbling and watching Marcus make his three point shot. Hmm, Big Red must have been on his ass, perfect shot. I make my shot from my side and Marcus looks back at me, giving me the finger. I crack a smile and he sends a caring one back.

"Stop being a show off PARKER!" Coach blasts the whistle.

My lips twitch but heaviness takes over again. I hate this day.

I put my beats around my neck, thinking about the stuffed animal hoarder. Wonder what she's up to this Saturday evening while I'm on the road.

I called her last night actually, after my fifth budweiser that Xavier brought for the team. I sneaked a case and took it back to my room, just trying to drink away the dark darks of today. I just listened to Lizzie's sweet voice, reminding me how essential it is for Olivia to feel loved and appreciated. She said she would know if I didn't sleep with it or follow directions, then she would reduce weekend visits and more spontaneous cuddle times.

Her threats are so cute. Fuck, I gotta stop saying that.

I can't believe I slept with an eight legged blue and green glitter stuffed animal on the bus on the way here and last night. And I liked how it smelled faintly of vanilla and cherry cough syrup, like Lizzie.

Once again, I feel lost without the Jello eater. She sent me a text message earlier for me to not forget my exercises and stay benched, even though I'm cleared.

Like I'll listen, I need to play tonight because if I don't then I'll do something I'll regret. Because, believe me, year after year on this day, I've done the stupidest shit. Like a tattoo on my thigh, the worst place to get a tattoo but pain is what I kno-

A jab on my shoulder makes me turn around to look to see a familiar blonde with pressed lips, already in her game day gear. She has my number on her right cheek, claiming what doesn't belong to her. My hand clenches tightly around the ball because number eleven doesn't deserve to be on anyone's body tonight.

"What"

She rolls her chin up eyes and presses her lips at me. My tolerance going out the window.

"Don't flatter yourself, I'm not here to ogle over you. I'm just here to ask what song you want to come in to." Ava tilts her head slightly, letting her hair cascade to the side.

"Ask Jordy," I clip and she lets out a chuckle, tilting her head again at me.

Silence fills between us as the sound system and announcers do an audio check. She shifts her pom poms to her right side, flickering her eyes up and down at me.

"What?"

She laughs, clenching her jaw and looking down at her shoes then back up at me. The way she's checking me out makes me feel disgusted at her presence right now, especially the fucking shit she did with Lizzie.

"Thought you were done with your little bitch fit."

"Get the fuck away from me," I dismiss and turn, grabbing another basketball and making a shot. She stands in front of me boldy and slants her eyes.

"Interesting how fast you switched on me." She touches the basketballs on the rack.

I ignore her because at this point she's just trying to get in my fucking head and honestly, I don't want her there.

"So, we are doing this now?" She folds her arms, pushing up her tits for my eye level.

"Go away." I suck my teeth.

She slides her hand across my chest, toying with my gold chain around her finger. "Nurse Lizzie must really have some nice pussy. I've always wanted a threesome with a lat-"

I catch her hand gently and pull it down. "Keep her name out of your mouth and leave us the fuck alone."

Ava nostrils flare and the rage in her eyes burn. "Us?" she taunts. "You really have cracked your head open, Jaylan."

"Actually just got some common sense."

Her face turns red as her jaw muscles tighten. "That's bullshit and you know it." Her voice pained.

I ignore her and toss the ball in the basketball with a clear shot.

"Jaylan, I'm not sure why you are so hung up on her. She's not even your type, I mean, come on. She's not even mature." She laughs, shuffling the pom poms in her hand.

"Way more mature than you ever will be," I clip back, dribbling the ball.

"She is a charity case just like you. She is not even worried about you." She laughs as if racism is funny.

I really don't know how somebody has not knocked her the fuck out yet with her ignornant words. "Fuck off Ava," I clip.

"She will never do what I can do, Jaylan. No girl can.," Ava reaching down between my legs and touching me like the sinful demon she is. "Remember that."

I snap my hips back like she's burned my cock. "In case you don't remember or you have bumped your head, we were never together. Last time I checked, I told you to leave me the fuck alone," I bark and adjust my beats on my head to block her out.

"It will always be me and you, Jaylan." She oozes venom as anger continues to rush throughout my body.

"I'm not going fucking tell you again, get the fuck out of my sight!" I bellow.

"I love when you're angry." She laughs, agonizing the situation. Her hand touches my arm seductively, making my skin crawl. I push it off me but she clings on to it. She pulls my beats back and leans into the shell of my ear.

"We will see how long this lasts. Remember what happened to Gabrielle, who gave you a second chance... Or third, then you came crawling back to me when she chose Omar Tatum over you? You're not the only one in competition for sweet Lizzie and she is not going to want anything to do with you and your hoodlum behavior," she taunts, snapping the beats into my ear.

"Get away from me." Jerking my body away from her. Anger flows through my veins, tightening my chest because she won't take the fucking hint. I flare my nostrils and she just looks at me with a deviant smark.

"Room three-thirty, if you want to teach me a lesson for making you angry. That's what you normally do anyway. I know you would just love to choke me, spank me, gag me... ," she velvets her voice, kissing my cheek and making me shrug her off me.

"Stop, just fucking stop Ava." I clench my teeth together tightly and rub the back of my hand over Ava's stain on my cheek.

"You know where to find me." Her voice trails as she walks away with an extra swish back to her demons, who are smiling at her and waiting to hear what I had to say. I roll my eyes, flaring my nostrils as I take another shot.

If that was me last year, I would have taken up her offer. In my hotel room, I'd have made her get on her knees, her back, done every last thing to show her to watch her mouth. But now, what she's doing now just burns my soul like acid and I don't want anything to do with her like that anymore. Maybe, at one time, I felt the detached sexual control and release would fix this anguish in me but not anymore. Honestly, I'm ashamed of using her the way I did, to numb this dark feeling in me. I now know that numbing the pain will only make it worse.

"You okay, man?" Marcus ask, coming up to me and patting me on my back.

"No," I clip back tightly. "But I'll be alright."

"She's like a roach who just won't die," Marcus tries to lighten the mood and I chuckle, shaking my head. His eyes drop down to my ankle. "Are you still playing tonight?"

"I want to but I don't know if my mind's here.," I admit quietly.

"The only place to put your mind is on the court, you know that," he indirectly reminds me that we all use that reason.

I shake my head. "But it's fucked up."

"It's up to you but I think you can rack up some serious points tonight," he suggests, grabs the ball from my hand, and sinks a shot.

I watch as he hits the backboard on his next shot. "Do you really think I should?"

"I think your mom would want to see you play," he replies without hesitation. "I've known you for a long time man and I see a gaslight a mile away. Don't let Ava fuck up your head, she has no hold on you."

I nod and know he is not wrong. She would make me drift more away from who I am to being who she wants me to be. Everything I did was wrong or she would never open up about her perfect little family when I showed her everything. Reality slapped me in the face the day I finally went to her house, only to be cursed because her father didn't want me to date his daughter because of the color of my skin.

She didn't even stick up for me and I realized she's never stuck up for me. Her sick notation of sticking up for me is pretending no one is here for me except for her. But thanks to my friends, especially Marcus, Hollis and Jordy, I've recognized what she was doing and I broke ties with her in junior year. Regardless of our casual hook ups, my emotional attachment with her was dead.

And still is

She gazes back at me if I'm going to say something but I look pass her as if she didn't exist. Everything we had done together diminished after the shit she pulled with Lizzie. Selfish people will never learn until they realize they're alone because of their actions.

"You have a beautiful woman with a beautiful heart right at your fingertips, don't let her slip away," he seems like he reads my mind.

"Thanks man," I mutter and shake my head.

"You know I got your back as much as you got mine." He slaps me hard on the shoulder.

"Me too," Jordy says, joining in.

"And me, always," Hollis cockily says, holding a basketball in his hand.

"We are in this together," Taylor finishes.

I nod as the stands begin to fill up and music begins to play out the speaker system. Coach gathers us together and my heart is still very heavy so I'm not sure if I could even play right now.

"Good work out there, I know our hearts are heavy about Rashad, but we can make this work. The best teams have chemistry. They communicate with each other and they sacrifice personal glory for the common goal. On Three."

We all put our hands together, "Terps."

"What?" Hollis says, looking down at his phone. He looks up to the stands with a huge grin on his face, making all of us turn.

Fuck me.

Lizzie timidly walks in between the two Amazon women who paraded themselves as if they're Basketball Wives of LA. My jaw must be on the ground, so I slowly pick it up.

My heart literally is beating out of rhythm, my eyes seeing her with tunnel vision.

Not a single sign of her recovering from being sick shows on her. She's wearing a short-sleeve, half-black, half-red Maryland shirt. It's split down the middle with a white zipper that's cute and sexy.

Damn.

The way her eyes drop downward shows she has no idea she's stealing attention from the section around her. My mouth waters at the way her tits sit just so perfectly in the top, with the damn zipper pulled slightly open like a tease and exposing her midriff with that tiny flash of gold in her navel. Her tight, black leggings leave little to the imagination. The way they....

Shit.

Lizzie bends down and I'm torn between absolutely mesmerized and wanting to throw a blanket over her so no one else sees what's mine. Because fuck, she's still drawing attention from within her section, along with -

"What? Look who we have here." Xavier grins looking at Lizzie bending down. Fireball, thank God, blocks her from the ass gawking by throwing a coat over her. Fuck, even Testudo our mascot is looking.

Lizzie bends up and sinks her teeth into her lip, making eye contact with a nearby popcorn vendor. But Lexi nudges her shoulder and makes her look at us. A rosy hint of pink highlights her cheeks and her eyes shine when they meet mine. I don't know what my face looks like right now but she covers her mouth in surprise and I chuckle. She giddily holds her hands together and points at herself, mouthing, 'surprise.'

I release a smile, something I haven't done since I saw her Thursday night.

Warmth spreads across my chest, breaking the sun open on the week of severe thunderstorms my heart has been pelted with the past two days. The empty but toxic statements from Ava dissolve from my mind like they never existed. A calmness seeps into my mind, settling my thoughts.

I groan when Lizzie does one more bend down, to grab her Nursing book out of her hand-stitched bag. Again, I'm grateful Ginger Snap holds up her coat again. Lizzie straightens up, then holds up a sign that makes my heart rattle, echoing through my body.

Number eleven, may all your swishes come true!

Then she points at her cheek, at the neatly printed 11 that probably took her four hours to do... and at least two minutes to get her Pinterest-worthy picture.

If that wasn't enough, she purses her lips and blows me a kiss. Her blush deepens when I catch it, knowing that earns me an extra sticker.

Now I have to play.