Basketball is Not Life

Chapter Twenty-Three

He woke me when we got back on campus; we had driven together. And the short ride home is quiet. My mom was right. The worst part about the midwest was the cold. I was bundled up, and my teeth chattered the whole way home; we had jumped in without warming it up. Parker walks into my room shortly after letting Spartan out. He shut my door; my light was still on; as I got ready for bed, I was exhausted even with the nap on the plane.

He walks over to me, stopping me from grabbing out my pajamas in the dresser, and brings me to his chest. His arms are engulfing me, and my heart races. This was what I had been missing for the last few months, me in his arms. It felt right.

"You are not alone, Ren." He looks down at me, his face just inches from mine. "Did you tell your parents about the texts?"

I shake my head.

"Why not?"

I step back, not able to find my words.

"It's been really good since Thanksgiving with them. And you had this big game tonight." I was rolling my hands in one another, not looking at him.

He didn't give me the space I was looking for stepping forward again.

"Look at me, Ren." He waits until my eyes look up and meets his eyes. "I do not care what is going on, I do not care if I have the NCAA Championship game the next day, I need you to talk to me. To tell me what is going on. Let me say it again, you are not alone."

I nod. "Ok." Is all I have to say to that. "I'm sorry about the loss."

He pulls me into his chest again. "I don't even care about that. Are you ok?" I nod. "Those were pretty mild. It is not that big of a deal.".

"That's mild?" His eyes flicker with rage. He walks over to my bed, sitting down, running his hands through his hair. "You need to let your parents know what is going on."

I nod.

"You promise?" he asks. 

I shake my head.

"All I could think about all game was driving to Duke and kicking the living crap out of him." I can tell that he means every word. And I wonder if his anger played into his first foul-out game. "You do not deserve anything he is saying to you. You understand that, right?"

I nod again. Wishing that this would be done. It was Ryan; I was used to him and his words. At least now, they were only through a phone and not directly in front of my face.

"It's not that big of a deal."

He looks up at me, his eyes going wide. "Why do you keep doing that? Trying to minimize it. It is a big deal, Renee. What he is doing is harassment."

I shake my head at him. "Why do you keep doing that?" I finally ask.

"Doing what?" he peers at me; his eyes look awake, they look nothing like how mine feel. 

"Calling me Renee like I'm in trouble." My voice wobbles a little.

His eyes turn soft. He gets up, stepping closer to me.

"I'm sorry." He drops his forehead on mine again. His hands coming up and framing my face. "It's just my blood boils when I think about his hands on you and those words being sent to you. And I need you to understand that none of it is ok. None of this is your fault—none of it. But Ren," he breaks off, saying, Ren. "You also need to realize how important you are."

"I do." I nod again.

"Do you?" His eyes are peering into me. "You keep acting like you come after basketball with everyone."