Content Warning:

*Mentions of Suicide and thoughts of suicide

When I'm playing basketball, everything goes away.

Everything.

It's peaceful out there, like I think that's why I love it so much. 

It's my therapy.

It's divine feeling almost, I can't really explain it much if you just feel it, you been there you just know.

It's just me and the court.

"Let's go! I'm not getting any younger" Coach T blows the whistle walking between us as we run.

"You're right." Marcus smile shines like the moon.

"Five more!" Coach blows the whistle earning a sea of groans including me.

I love the game of Basketball but not the hard work.

Coach T is making us pay for losing our game against Michigan State last week.

Losing is not option for him, not this year.

And it's not for me either.

I'm sick of losing, it's not good feeling.

When you experience loss, people say you'll move through the five stages of grief... What no one tells you is that you'll cycle through them all day, every day.

Not feeling so many fucking emotions would be nice for a change. I can't say I ever have a day where I feel like I can't be normal. Nobody ever taught me how to grieve, I was always taught to just live with pain and move on.

No matter how hard or tough you think you are, losing your mom is the deepest sorrow you heart will ever know. Not a day goes by that I don't miss her or think about her. She was my rock, fortress, and strength. What happened to her was unjust to me, to Uncle Steve... Nathan.

She didn't deserve to die the way she did because that wasn't her. What she became wasn't Evelyn Robinson. Evelyn Robinson I knew was kind, gentle, soft spoken, courageous, friendly, hardworking, brave, and would do anything for her baby boy. She had goals and ambition to make a better future for us instead of what the world deemed her as.

She didn't deserve to go the way she did. Sometimes I hate her for leaving the way she left me but sometimes when you feel like you have nothing else left, you just want to mute the world and she did.

I sigh heavily, blocking out the gut-wrenching memories from walking into our house. The exact sound of the basketball I drop causes me to blink back to reality. I'm no longer in our row home in Baltimore but on the floor with Xfinity Stadium's twenty thousand red seats surrounding me, empty for today's practice. I exhale deeply, shoving down the sadness that sometimes that tries to cloud my judgment. Never again I want to feel that kind of pain ever again. 

Coach T blows the whistle again as I begin to dribble down the court and Rashad runs with me at the same time. Our shoes squeak as I sprint down the court to beat him for a lay-up. He's a good defender and hot on my heels, but I'm better.

"Get tough Rashad." Coach T blows the whistle.

Yeah, that will be the day.

He sighs, rubbing his neck, and Coach T blows his whistle again with force. He will never get tough because his heart is not in the game anymore.

"It's not too late," I taunt, only in return for a hard glare.

"Shut up," He growls lowly, lowering his head down to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

Basketball is only for those who need an outlet and that's not Rashad. He won't humble himself to admit he has issues too. The rest of us to put all our stress, pain and heart out on the court.

For us, basketball was not just for fun. 

It's therapy.

That's why Uncle Steve put me on the court, to relieve everything I couldn't communicate to them. I have to admit that if it wasn't for Aunt Lisa and Uncle Steve, I would be right with my mom.

All I wanted was to be with my mom. I don't think anyone understands that feeling.

When she died, I died with her. There was no way the eleven year old pipsqueak would come back.  I put Aunt Lisa and Uncle Steve through a storm with my bad ass. How else would a child at eleven grieve when they lose their mom?

I've made them cry.

I've made them furious.

I've made them laugh.

I've made them proud.

I've disappointed them.

No child deserves to walk in on their mom overdosed and broken-hearted over a low life piece of shit sperm donor. Remembering her laying on the living room floor on the sofa burns my mind. Her hands were folded with a note between her fingers with a rose. I'm haunted remembering her mouth coated in vomit from aspirating.

I glance down at my right hand, at the rose identical to the one she held.

When I sank onto the floor next to her lifeless body was the first and last time I cried because the shit excuse of a sperm donor showed up. To this day, my anger still marinates when I remember how he told me to suck it up and be a man as he forced me to drag her into his car to drop her dead in front of the emergency room.

I was fucking eleven.

He did not care about my mom or me, which killed my mom.

My chest constricts when remembering his cold confession on how we were just better without her.

I wish it was him instead of her. I fucking hate PJ.

I shut my eyes tightly, connecting my palm to the hard, textured, spherical lifeline of hope that will change my future. All thanks to Aunt Lisa and Uncle Steve, I have never been more grateful for them putting me in basketball to get me to this stage of grief. ----acceptance

I extend my arm and make a shot with ease into the basket. Listening to the crisp sound of swish soothes my grieving heart. My eyes catch sight of Jordy bouncing his toes and making his way over to me with a smile on his face.

Today is dum dum's birthday and he has been reminding us all damn day.

He never frowns but through all the joy is pain that he shares on the court after his brother was shot back at home. We were the same age when we lost the people we loved.

"That swish," Jordy laughs, bumping his shoulder into me.

Damn, what would I do without dum dum.

"That swish." I laugh, taking another ball from the rack.

I make another shot into the hoop when Marcus catches it with a big grin on his face. Marcus is the most tolerable asshole I have known in my entire life from basketball camp. He has no repercussions; he lives on the edge and is apathetic about the fallout. At first meeting, you wonder why he just acts the way he does but if you knew him and what he has been through with his piece of shit of a sperm donor too. Our loathing for our fathers bonded us stronger and that's why he is one of my best friends.

I slant my eyes and shake my head, knowing for a fact the bigass grin on his face means he just got some again from Big Red. I have to say, I'm surprised she hasn't chucked and dumped his ass. She is worse than me but plays dirty, especially on the court. It's the only way she has control through the shit she went through back in Boston.

"What you all giddy about," Hollis chuckles, dribbling his ball over.

Hollis is the knucklehead transplant from NYU. That knucklehead has been through deep shit with Mom and step father.

That man can go to hell and never come back.

"Can't a guy just be happy?" Marcus defends, holding his heart.

"NO!" We all said in unison, our voices echoing through the gym. Coach T glares at us, lifting his whistle to his lips as we congregate around the basketball rack.

"If you can't make it any more obvious," I jab, throwing up my hand to touch his hickeys all over his neck and collarbone.

"Can't help I'm irresistible," Marcus says in a cocky tone, and we all purse our lips at his dumb ass.

"To who?" Hollis cracks up, throwing the ball in the hoop but misses.

We arch our brow at the easy shot he just missed. He better not play like that this tomorrow, or his ass is benched. The corners of Marcus's mouth curl up like the grinch, I can't stand him.

"Maxine Jordan," Marcus gloats.

All of us gasp line school girls making his arrogant smile grow so big it's brighter the arena lights.

He done did it now.

"You gonna die." I chuckle, shaking my head knowing his funeral will be short because Big Red won't let any kind words be spoken about him.

"She'll be alright." Marcus gloats.

"WHAT!" All of the guys' mouths gape open at his revealed secret. Marcus' mouth becomes even bigger than Spongebob revealing Squidward's secret about Krabby patties.

"How... w-uh-hat... -wuh-wait... H-huh?" Jordy stammers trying to get his words out.

Marcus waves down the excitement as all the guys begin to ask questions. He's literally about to dig himself in a grave if this gets back to her.

You don't fuck around with Big Red.

"A secret I will never tell." Marcus zips his lips and picks up the ball, taking his shot at the basket Hollis missed. Hollis puffs the air and takes it again barely making it this time.

"But you just did dumbass." ," I deadpan.

"I ain't sayin another word." Marcus sucks his teeth, and we all laugh as he grumbles some words about 'At least I got some this morning.' I purse my lips and know he doesn't want to go down that route with me.

"Y-"

The loud piercing whistle radiates in my ears bowing my smart-ass comeback right out my mouth.

"THIS ISN'T TEATIME. LET'S GET TO WORK!" Coach T's voice booms through the XFINITY Center. He projects so loudly that he can probably be heard across campus.

We all groan at Coach blowing the whistle repeatedly like a drum major on a drumline. The flush of redness at his high cheek bones highlighted in the light on his brown skin  He is so extra. Especially his sap story to get me here. But it worked. For being five eight surrounding us six above athletes he sure has no fear about being squished for his roasts.

Coach Tyree, you got to love him, because he's the only one who looks out for us in the game and outside of the game.

"Can't we leave early, it's my birthday," Jordan grumbles, making us all shoot him a look to shut the fuck up.

"Cross" Coach T gnash his teeth.

We quietly laugh because we all know Coach will make us sing happy birthday after practice. 

"Coach you are doing the most right now," Marcus laughs as Coach blows the whistle again.

Coach T slants his eyes like he was the Godfather from Scarface. Marcus waits for back up, but we all look away, trying not to get shot in the chest by his comeback he is about to deliver right now.

"You don't want the smoke man." Taylor chuckles under his breath as we line up on the end line.

"He is about to get it," I mutter under my breath as Coach paces back and forth in front of us.

"Doing the most? I wouldn't half to do the most if you didn't miss that three-point shot to win us the game," Coach T roasts, leaving us all snicker under our breath. Marcus sucks his teeth because the heat was too much for him.

Coach T is never wrong. He is one of us.

"Jordy, I don't know why you are laughing. Can't barely hold your hands up with those chicken arms." Coach T chucks the ball into Jordy's chest.

I touch my hand over my heart to restrain myself from busting out in laughter, even through grieving, there's nothing wrong with a good laugh to ease the pain of your aching heart.

"AND YOU! What you are smiling at, you almost broke both of your ankles last week with those cement feet," Coach T jabs at me finally and I let out the chuckle I've been holding back.

"We got work to do, now let's go!" Coach T blows the whistle.

Dribbling down the court through the orange cones, Coach T walks through the midst of us, critiquing... perfecting.... I hate when he does that because it almost makes me feel like I can't amount to anything. But deep down I know that when he critiques us, it brings out what we endured to glory on the court. I make it to the end and make my shot cleanly, but I miss as he waits for me.

My heart twinges as he steps forward to me and gives me those eyes of belief. He looks up at me and flicks his brown eyes back and forth.

"Thinking will not overcome fear, but action will. Fingers facing forward towards the basket like you do with life," Coach T suggests, aiming his basket right into the hoop.

Again, Coach T is never wrong.

Practice is just not practice, like I said it's our counseling session. It's the only counseling session I get considering I refuse to sit in front of a therapist on a red couch to express how I feel after I told them the last fucking time.  Practice lets me think, lets me process because at the game we don't have time for that.  That's why Rashad fucking messes up all the damn time because got too much on his damn mind about his future when he could just use this fucking time to vent.

Look at him

I narrow my gaze at Rashad, looking at the easy free throw he could have made.

Thinking too much.

I purposely make the shot by him easily and he turns to glare at me. I shrug cockily, proving my point for Jordy to cackle, slapping his hand on his back. Rashad rolls his eyes and tries it again, missing it. 

He'll figure it out.

Coach T blows the whistle and we bring it in as he is surrounds with no fear at all these big athletes who have thought about squishing him one day.

"Alright, early workouts tomorrow, be here at four sharp for the game. Good job today and happy birthday chicken arms. Remember the game plan even when your pea-sized brains can't comprehend it," Coach T brings in his hand.

We chuckle at his last roast of the evening but each one of us soak in his words including me.

"Terps!" We shout, breaking the session.

"Birthdayyyy time," Jordy emphasize every word, only for Marcus to give him a birthday shove.

"Where do you want to go?" I grab my gatorade water bottle from the bench.

Last year, Jordy wanted to do this sky diving place and the outfits were smaller than ever in uncomfortable places.

Jordy has mentioned top golf but I don't want him being a sore loser if I got hole in one first.

"Simple this time I promise." Jordy stands on the bench and all over us gather around him.

"Jordy even if you stand on the bench you are still six two." Marcus tease, taps Jordy's kneecaps.

Jordy scrunches his brows as all the guys laugh but I get behind Jordy and rubs his shoulders.

He can be a toddler sometimes.

"Where you wanna go, Co Captain." I give an extra squeeze.

"Ooo we should go to hooters Jordy." Xavier beams and Jordy's eyes get wide as saucers. "So much boobies!"

I don't need that kind of publicity with Jordy getting tossed out the restaurant or my other teammates.

"Jordy how about we just get something around here." I pat his back.

"I definitely could go for Cinco De Mayo the Guac is A1," Jordy beams, kissing his fingers.

"I'm down for some chips and salsa, could go for a Modelo." Hollis grins like an idiot.

My phone dings twice, knowing it could only be one girl who isn't tired of my games. I reach in my pocket for my phone that's me alerting again.

I gotta fix that, fucking Ava messing with my phone.

I check the screen with my devilish grin at bay.

Well look at that, speak of the devil.

My lips curl up into a deviant smile at the attached photo, knowing her ranting is over. It was actually nice not hearing from her. Too bad I already made plans with somebody else tonight.

Ava: I hate you [ photo]

I chuckle at the photo of her with a light see-through, blue lace bra with her lips pout.

Tempting to rip off but... I got other plans tonight. 

Me: what you tryin to fight me huh?

Her idea of fighting is her on all fours and me having her hands behind her back and I'm balls deep inside her that's how I got in trouble in the first place coming back.

A mischievous smile spreads on my lips as she probably thinking the same thing when her message pops up

Ava: 🙄

"What are you laughin' about?" Marcus furrows his eyebrows while Jordy and Hollis rave to everybody about this guac made in front of you. 

Walking to the locker room, I flash my phone showing the half nude of Ava and Marcus shakes his head.

"Yo, just lock down already," Marcus glancing again, I suck my teeth shutting of my phone

"Nah, it aint even like that," I stuff my phone in my pocket yet it buzz in my pocket.

He looks completely unconvinced, with good reason. "Four years, it's something,"

"But it's available," I shrug, making Marcus' eyes widen a bit.

"Yo." Marcus blinks at my asshole response and laughs after because he would say the same exact fucking thing. 

"Such a gentleman." Hollis heightens his voice entering the locker room.

"What?" I flash a cocky grin, approaching the red door to enter the locker room.

They all know my situation with Ava but it's never going to happen. If I can have something on the side I don't see the harm in it.

"Count yo days." Marcus stretches the 's' before he goes in

"You count your days." I remind, holding the door for my teammates go in before me.

Big Red is definitely not going to like him braggin around us about their sneaky link nights.

"How long are we going to be?" Rashad inquires, making us all look back at him.

"Until they cut me off with chips and salsa," Jordy jokes, making everybody laugh.

Rashad follows, chuckling and rubbing the back of his neck.

"You know you don't have to come right?" I suggest.

It be better if he didn't.

I can't say I hate Rashad because he is a brother, no matter the difference. But how can you be a brother to someone who just doesn't want to be a part of the family?

"It's Jordy's birthday I can't miss that, I'm not an asshole."

"It's an option." I shrug to go in the locker room down when I hear soft squeaks of shoes behind us.  I try open the locker door but the fuckers lock it.

"Jaylan." A familiar high pitch voice as my shoulders tense from my behind me.

The guys erupt in soft laughter behind the locker room and I roll my eyes. I turn around to see Ava and a few of the cheerleaders with pom poms in their hands. Ava has a tight blank tank top on with red shorts crawling up her thighs. She stands with her arms crossed pushing up her tits in my view.

I guess Marcus felt bad leaving me hanging so he comes out and rest his arm on my shoulder. Jordy rushes out nearly knocking out Marcus and I squeezing in the middle.

"Yo," I suck my teeth.

"Ava so nice to see you." Marcus teases and I elbow him in the stomach.

"Right, well I came to see what you boys were up to since Jaylan can't answer his phone and Faith wants to ask you Marcus a question." Ava rolls her eyes and looks over at Faith Harrison.

Marcus other complicated situation. Faith looks away with her cheeks redden as she tucks her braids behind her ear.

"S'up Faith." Marcus nods his head at her with his big ass smile.

He is trending on dangerous ground. Especially if Ginger demon comes around these parts. And she has lately after practice.

"Where are you guys off too." Ava eyes travels to each of us.

"It's my-" Marcus covers his mouth like a kidnapper in the night as he drags him into the locker room.

Ava arches her brow at me "Jaylan can we talk."

Oh now she wants to talk, see told you by Thursday but two can play this game.

"Jaylan don't be late." Hollis laughs and he winks at one of the cheerleaders who giggles to another with his red adidas bag on his shoulder.

Ava rolls her eyes and I give her a nod to the wall but as my head lifts I see Courtney, my date for the evening in the stands waving at me dressed in the most sneaky link outfit you can have coming down the stairs. Her black crop top snug by her tits and tight black joggers cling at her hips.

"What's up?" My lips curl up into a smile.

Ava's back hits the wall as her arms still across her chest. "Have you learn your lesson yet?"

I chuckle, "What lesson was this?"

"Seriously Jaylan." She huffs as her blonde hair puffs in the air.

"You said you were done." I bend my two fingers.

Ava cranes her neck up at me and her blue eyes darken. "Jaylan."

"Ava, come on now, I'm not sure why you are so hung up right now." I groan.

"You said you want to talk about us." Her voice lowers.

"Yeah talk about how what we are doing is not good for us."

"Jaylan we can't keep doing this, we have to progress."

"Into what a disaster?" I arch my brow.

"Stop being difficult!" Her voice echoed in the gymnasium.

"I'm not and you know it's the truth." I clip.

Ava's nostrils flare,"Jaylan, I'm not exactly sure who you are trying to play with but it's not going to be me. You said over break-"

My jaw twitches, "I know what I said!"

"Then why did you say it Jaylan." Her voice softens

I regret everything I said over break. I was lonely and drunk out of my mind. Holidays are the worse when you are grieving and I don't think anyone understands that. Yes I said shit but I didn't mean it. It was just empty words.

Silence fills between us as Ava searches for a heartfelt answer.

Ava eyebrows lower and pulls closer together, "I just don't understand." Her voice makes theatric whimper.

Here we go.

"Don't Ava." I put my hand behind my neck.

"I do everything for you! I support you, listen to you cry I I talk about your mo-"

My chest tightens as I narrow my eyes at her, "Don't fuckin start."

Ava pouts her lips downward," But it's true!"

My lawn tightens,"I gotta go, I don't have time for this." I grip on to the handle of the locker room.

"Walk away Jaylan like you always do!" Ava pushes me a bit.

"Don't fuckin touch me! Have you lost your mind! Ava, we can't, it won't work out." I pinch the bridge of my nose.

I spent a lot of reflection over Christmas break also and correction from Aunt Lisa from drinking so much. I need to cut Ava off as fast as I started this whole thing with her. We toy and fuck with each other emotions.

And this is the shit I hate about us and her the most.

"Im sorry, just come Jay we can work this out." She touches my forearm and rubs softly.

I flinch back as if she was a hot plate on the stove. "Work on what Ava?" I arch my brow.

"Just-"

A small feminine voice clears their throat and we both turn to see Courtney. "Hey Jaylan, you ready?"

Just in time. Thank the fuck

"Are you fucking kidding me Jaylan!" Ava eyes widen and looks over to Courtney with bullets but Courtney throws it back.

"Ava I to-"

"You do realize we just fucked Friday night right." Ava toss the challenge. Ava sizes her up with her eyes.

Courtney pushes her hair over shoulder and presses her lips. Damn Ava has met her match my "And we are fucking tonight so, you ready Jaylan."  Courtney curls her lips at me with no shame.

I shut my gape mouth but my chest fills with pride at the fact some girls don't give two shits about Ava and she is one of them.

"Yeah give me like two minutes." I nod and Courtney lips twitch "One." She switches her hips to the exit door. Ava puts up her middle finger and then looks directly at me.

"Jaylan, you are a fucking asshole. I hope she gives you genital warts!" Ava's voice booms loudly in the gymnasium.

"We will talk about it later." I force my lips not to curl up.

"Fuck you!" She stomps her foot at me. She huffs loudly and pushes her hands to my chest.

"Ava!" I shout out to her like an idiot

"No! Fuck off!" She doesn't turn around as we make it to the doors.

"Ava," I clasp her hand and she yanks it away but I tug her into me making her whimper. "Jaylan, I'm not doing this, not this year." She shakes her head.

"I think we just need space." I offer.

"For what." Her eyes welt up.

"You know for what I'm not going to repeat myself." I take my to fingers lifting up her chin but she dips it.

No matter how much she wants to deny, we can't be together forever and I have my reasons.

"Can't you see I just want you." Her stage performance does move an inch of my heart.

"We need a break." I toss back.

Ava's glossy eyes magically disappear and her eyebrows draw together.

"Fine." With that she is gone.

With those four letters I know I'm not in the remote in the clear and Lord help me.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline
1-800-273-8255

If you're thinking about suicide, are worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, the Lifeline network is available 24/7 across the United States.

Edited: still_just_me