Now that my performance has no audience, my guarded emotions flood me in the parking lot, and self-doubt creeps in. I don’t know what to do, or where to go, so I head for The Arcade at the mall, a place where my teammates hang out. The machine on the wall sucks up the ten in my wallet and spits out a bunch of quarters. I head for the only game I play, HOOPS. The balls leave my hands, hitting basket after basket mindlessly as I try to erase the memory of my dad getting it on in the closet with the homewrecker, but it’s not working. Someone is beside me, but I give them no notice until they shoot a basket at the same time I do, and our balls jam up the net.
“Hey, Katie.”
I’m surprised to recognize her voice. “Oh, hey Nadia. I didn’t see you there.”
It’s weird looking another girl in the eye. I’m kind of tall for a girl at 6 feet.
“Vhat’s wrong? Vant to talk about it? Let’s grab some grub.” Her soft voice gets to me. I must look pretty wrecked. We go through concessions and head for the back corner booth to settle in. “Is it the big game tonight that’s got you all tensed up?”
“Nah. I think we’ve pretty much got that one in the bag. It’s, um. Well, my parents have been on the outs for a while now, and then three months ago my dad moved out.”
She takes my hand in hers. “That sucks, girl. I’m really sorry.”
I look off to the side and blink back my tears. I hate crying, especially in front of a teammates “Yeah, thanks. So, anyway, um, today I went to work, because I work at my dad’s car lot, and I was trying to get my head off the game tonight, and I kind of caught my dad doing the deed with his receptionist. In a closet. And it was disgusting to say the least.”
Her eyes go wide. “You’re sure it vas your dad?”
“Yes. I saw his face. I saw her face. I saw other things, body parts. Let’s just say I saw more than I ever wanted to see of both of them.” My body shivers at the memory. Her hand is still in mine. I’m not really a touch-feely kind of girl, so I pull back and shove my hands under my thighs. “Yeah, so anyway, it’s not been the best afternoon, and I’ve just been trying to get my head back in the game for tonight.”
I’m surprised to see a tear on Nadia’s cheek, and suddenly I feel selfish. “Are you okay?”
She wipes the tear away. “It’s nothing. I just miss my family. My foster family’s been great, especially since I’ve been playing so much more than Emily lately, and ve’re on the same team.”
I take her cue and reach out to squeeze her hand, even though it makes me feel awkward. “I’m sure it’s been hard being away from home so long, but the year’s almost over. You’ll see them really soon. And we’re all so glad you’re here, Nadia. I’m so glad we met. You’re one of the best defensive players I know. You’re so chill. I’ve never met a Russian basketball player before. Your accent is killer!”
Her face lights up. “Hey! Vant to go shoe shopping with me? I really miss my girls back home.”
I scoot out of the booth. Shopping would be a nice distraction about now, and it would be nice to shop with someone in person rather than my mom or my Instabestie, JuneBug. It’s a little awkward getting opinions via Facetime all the time.
Nadia and I spend the next hour perusing the clearance racks at the shoe store, spraying each other with all kinds of scents in the bath and body aisles, and making goofy faces in mirrors. I glance at my watch. “Nadia, it’s almost game time!”
“Oh, shoot. I don’t have a ride yet.”
“No problem. I’ll take you. Just let me text my mom.” I whip out my phone.
K: Mom, Nadia needs a ride. We’re leaving the mall. Can you get a Lyft to the game please? I kind of need the car.
M: N P.
Mom’s text makes me smile. It drives her nuts to abbreviate anything. I appreciate her effort.
We run out of the mall laughing and swinging our shopping bags behind us. Out of the corner of my eye, I spy a lurker; faded blue jeans, signature snug cotton AC/DC tee, baseball cap hiding a head of gray hair, sunglasses, and a big camera; all 73-1/2 inches of him. Ric-o Tomas, my sworn enemy. Darn the man.
My wheels peel out of the parking lot. Nadia grabs the dash. “Slow down, Katie. Ve’ve got a few spare minutes.”
I take my foot off the gas to hide my irritation. “I’m sorry. I’m just anxious. Coach doesn’t like it when we’re late, and tonight’s huge.”