Basketball is Not Life

Chapter Seventeen

The month was done. Neither of us talked about if Parker won the bet or not. Which he had clearly won. Rosita started coming in on Thursdays and cleaning again. And even though he was no longer picking up groceries, there was always a pint of Strawberry cheesecake ice cream sitting in the freezer.

Basketball season officially started, and Parker was not home most nights. He was also gone most days before I made breakfast, and part of me felt like I was living in the house with Spartan only.

I was surprised when he spoke to me.

"Here you go," Parker said, dropping off a Manila envelope in front of me at the kitchen counter.

I pry the envelope open and look down, and then back up at him. "You are joking."

"A bet is a bet," Parker said, the two of us having our first conversations in weeks. "I'll see you at practice." He turns, heading out to the garage.

"Parker," I yell, calling his name. He doesn't come back. He leaves me there, looking down at my laminated lanyard with my name on it. I was listed in the packet as a Student Basketball Manager. There was a congratulations letter and everything. My stomach rolled; there was no way I would be a basketball manager for Michigan State.

"Ringer" Marshall yelled at me as I walked around the practice basketball court. My lanyard had gotten me into the gym, and I was hoping I would be able to talk to anyone about getting my name removed from this list. "I heard you made a sports manager. Pretty impressive. What did you do?"

I looked at him. "What do you mean, what did I do?" But before I could go in more depth, Parker was there pulling me out to the hallway. He looked around down the hall and back at me.

He put his finger up to my lips and said, "Shhh... Not here, at home."

We left the complex, and I jumped into his car, but I did not wait until we got home.

"What the hell Parker."

"You are going to need to be more clear about what you are mad about." He said, making his way out of the parking lot.

I hold up my lanyard and hold it out toward him. "I don't know. Maybe this."

"A bet is a bet, Ren."

"We said every game. Not every practice."

"Yea... And this was my solution to get you to every game easily." I stare at him, shocked.

"I'm going to college. I didn't come to Michigan Fucking State to be the water girl to a bunch of prissy ass dudes."

Parker parked at a park nearby. We hadn't made it home, and he turned in his seat to look at me. "It was being a manager or actually being the water girl. I thought this was the better 

option." He smiled at me.

"Don't screw with me. I know that being a manager is being a water girl Parker." I whined. "It is the bottom of the bottom. I'm the person that's going to have to carry the towels around and make the giant pitchers of blue Gatorade. I'm essentially Michigan State's basketball bitch."

"How do you know that?" He asked.

"I read the packet you left me and pretty much read between the lines." I was fuming.

"Look. It took some pull to get you this position. There are hundreds of applicants."

I shrug back in my seat, looking forward. "Good, let one of them do it."

"Is that seriously what you want?" I shake my head yes. "Fine."

He slams his car into reverse, and he starts driving toward home again. We park in the garage, and he grabs my arm softly before I can get out. It makes me jump. He rubs his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry. It's just that it took some serious pull to get this to happen. I just assumed you would be sticking out..."