Practice Gets Real

As the basketball season begins, practice intensifies. You are worn out from the two dozen full court wind sprints and ready to leave when your coach swaggers toward you.

“Jamaal, I want a word with you. My office.”

You follow him, wondering what he wants. He motions for you to sit.

“Jamaal, I’m winning a championship this year. Nothing is going to stop this team. Nothing is going to stop me.”

You nod your head. Your team isn’t even ranked in the top fifty.

“I found a guy. You can sell your soul to become a top player.”

“Uh, coach I’m not selling my soul.”

“I’ve got half a dozen JV players jumping at this opportunity. Sell your soul, boy, or I’ll cut you and you’ll lose your scholarship.”

There’s no way you’re selling your soul.

“Let me think about it, coach.”

“Don’t know wait too long, boy.”

You leave, disgusted by the encounter. You head straight to Mia.

She frowns as you tell her the story.

“Well, you aren’t selling your soul. Period. How about we just leave, Jamaal? I have a few thousand dollars saved up and you have your car.”

“If you can call it that. It’s a beater.”

“It doesn’t matter. We’ll have each other and the open road. We can look for the missing people.”

You know by missing people she means her mother. “What about school? What about your dad?”

“I’ll take a leave and my dad is so pickled he doesn’t even know I’m alive.”

The next morning Mia finishes the paperwork and the two of you hit the road.