Super Skilled Me

(7)

          Dian and I are snuggled up on the couch of her grandmother's house, watching a movie and eating snacks. Well, I'm eating obviously, as she sits here beside me. I've got a bag of jumbo Miss Vickie's Sea Salt & Vinegar potato chips to keep me occupied. Sadly, Dian is forcing me to watch another romance film that she's seen a million times, so I have to occupy myself with some good food to get through the pain. Let's just say I'm not a big fan of chick flicks, but it's pretty much a rule to sit down and watch one with your girlfriend every now and then.

          "I love this part so much," she says, referring to a kissing scene taking place over the horizon and setting sun.

          I roll my eyes. "How are you able to watch this? If I see one more kissing scene I think I'm gonna be sick."

          She laughs. "I've only seen it, like, a dozen times."

          "Don't you get bored though? I feel like I'm about to fall asleep."

          She gives me a playful poke and says, "Quit taking yourself so seriously. You know you like it deep down."

          "Nuh-uh," I reply, purposely getting under her skin. "I want to watch a real movie. How about some action and dramatic car chases?"

          "Oh, yes. Because Michael Bay is your favourite director."

          "He's really not though," I say, myself also getting defensive in a playful way. "I'm more of a Quentin Tarantino kind of guy."

          "Yeah, well. Not me. His movies are too dark and scary."

          "Whatever," I reply, my hand soaring back into the bag of potato chips. As I said, they're the only thing getting me through this flick. My goodness does the vinegar have an exquisite taste. With every chip that enters my mouth, I feel satisfaction flow throughout my veins. This has been my go-to flavour ever since I was sa kid. You can never go wrong with them. I'm happy that Dian is on her so-called "diet"—the same one she's been on ever since we met—because I really don't feel like sharing right now!

          "Well, I have to pee," she says, removing the blanket we're sharing, making her way off the couch. "I'll be right back."

          "Sounds good."

          Once she's gone, I take the channel changer and quickly turn on the basketball game. My Los Angeles Lakers are playing the Miami Heat. As I mentioned before, I was a big Kobe fan before he passed away, and I'll always be a die-hard Lakers fan. The game's late in the third quarter, my Lakers are up by eight. 

          You know, I really think I can make it—to the NBA I mean. I may be playing in Germany first to start my professional career, but I'm sure I'll go all the way. I envision it all the time, walking across the national podium and being selected by a professional organization. Just the thought gives me goosebumps.

          When Dian returns, I quickly turn the movie back on. Some may call it "simping," but I love her so much I'm willing to do the small things. It's only fair really, as she's always at my home games supporting me, clapping and cheering her heart out in the loud, booming audience.

          You know, speaking of futures, I can really see us together as well. Just like my dream of making it big in basketball, I think we can live a happy life and have kids one day.

          "You know what," she says, placing her hands on her hips. "Let's go out for a walk instead."

          "A walk?" I ask, surprised. "Isn't it a little late?"

          "Yeah, but I want to stretch my legs. I've had a long day and stuck inside my dorm studying."

          "Okay. That sounds good to me." I stand up from the couch, potato chips still in hand. "Mind if I bring these with us?"

          She laughs. "Seriously? Can't you go a single day without eating?"

          "Eating is part of life, babe," I joke. "If I don't eat, I'll die."

          "Yeah, but you know what I mean."

          With that, we make our way outside. The air is getting cooler these days, causing me to zip the team jacket up to my neck. It's common for Dian and I to go on late-night walks. 

          Naturally, we start making our way towards the town village, where there's some action going on. There's a group of kids running around and chasing one another, their parents standing off to the side, talking and watching over them.

          "I miss being young," Dian says, admiring them playing.

          "Young? You're twenty," I remind her.

          "I know, I know. But you get what I'm saying"

          "Yeah...I feel you."

          "So...you're playing Pamberton tomorrow, right?" she asks, referring to the big game.

          "Yup. And it's a home game this time."

          "Great," she says with an excited smile. "I'll be in the stands watching as always."

          Like I said, other than my parents in England, Dian is my number-one supporter, and it's not even close.

          As we venture deeper into the village, we pass by a food truck selling hot dogs. Now finished with the bag of jumbo potato chips, I can't help myself, as the smoking sausages grill on the barbeque, the smoke evaporating up into the star-lit sky. They smell fantastic, cooked to nothing less than perfection.

          "You sure you're not hungry?" I ask Dian, reaching around for my wallet.

          "Nope. I told you—I'm taking this diet thing seriously."

          "Alright. Well, I'm gonna buy one."

          The man working behind the truck greets me. I tell him that I'd like mine crispy, with a pinch of salt.

          "Comin' right up," he says in what sounds like a Boston accent.

          By the time it's cooked, the grease and mayonnaise and melted cheese make a delicious combo. Dian and I sit by the entrance of the town library, talking more as I greatly enjoy my food. The relish gives it a nice touch, and the mustard spices up the overall quality. 

          There's a moment of silence between us. I start thinking about our game tomorrow against Pamberton. I really want to bounce back from the way I played against Notre Dame in our home opener. I need to stay aggressive and be confident in myself. I put so much work and dedication into my game, that I'm positive I can adjust back to my true abilities on the court.

          Tomorrow's going to be a good one.