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THIS WAS ENTIRELY UNPRECEDENTED.
It had been a full seven days since LaMelo had slipped a napkin with his phone number into Jules' purse and he hadn't heard from the girl since.
For the first two days, LaMelo thought that she hadn't found the note yet.
He had figured that Jules had a wide array of purses and handbags and that was the reason that she hadn't called, texted or at least sent him a direct message on Instagram.
She had said so herself that the sex had been good, so what exactly was the problem?
LaMelo lounged back into his sofa, shirtless and exhausted from a brutal and heavy practice with the Hornets.
The flatscreen hung up on the beige wall was playing the movie Belly, the volume loud enough that he was sure his neighbors could hear as well.
His thoughts returned to the girl.
Maybe she was lying and she didn't think it was good.
Nah, that can't be it.
LaMelo rested his head on the back of the couch and then glanced at the cell phone resting on the coffee table before reaching forward to grab it.
This was a long shot but...
LaMelo went to the Instagram app downloaded onto his phone, clicked the magnifying glass at the bottom of the device, and then typed the name 'Jules' just to see what or who would pop up.
LaMelo clicked on the first five accounts that came up then rolled his eyes when none turned out to be the girl that he was looking for.
His cell phone vibrated with a call and without looking at the contact name, LaMelo answered, "Hello?"
"Yo, I'm in your city. Let's do something." His older brother, LiAngelo's voice came on the other line.
LaMelo immediately shook his head even though he knew that his brother couldn't see it, "Nah. Nope. The last time we got drunk together, we got banned from three bars in Brooklyn. I'm tired, I'm good."
"C'mon, Melo. I go back to New Zealand in two days and you-."
"Only live once? Fine, Drake ass. But I'm picking the club." LaMelo said as an afterthought.
