Basketball is Not Life

Chapter Thirty-Five

Since I was the only female team manager, I got my own hotel room. This was something I had come accustomed to on our overnight stays for basketball. Not once had Parker broken this; we always slept in our assigned rooms. But tonight, there was a tap on my hotel room.

I look through the peephole and find Parker standing outside of it in basketball shorts and a T-shirt. I open the door quickly, knowing he could be in trouble if he is seen. I grab him by his shirt and yank him in.

"What are you doing here?" I hiss out at him.

He looks at me; the room was dark as I was getting ready for bed, but he can see that I had been crying.

"You were not answering my texts." He said to me. "I didn't tell Larry anything. I just told him your ex was not a good guy, and he agreed that I needed to come check on you."

I nod. "I left my phone on silent, probably."

"Ok." He walks over to my bed, plugs his phone into the charger port, and starts removing his shoes.

"What are you doing?" I gasp at him.

"Sleeping here. There is no way I'm going to be able to sleep knowing he's here in this hotel. What was your dad thinking letting him come to this."

And when he looks at me, he knows. He knows that I never told them the whole truth.

"Ren. Please tell me they know everything."

I shake my head. "Only you know.." We hadn't talked about this since Christmas Day. "I haven't even told Dr. Kavanagh." I sit down next to him, my hands in my lap. "I keep telling myself I'm going to tell her, and then I don't. I always come up with some reason why I can't."

Parker just nods. "Well, I just sent your dad some very cryptic text messages then."

I turn to him, my eyes going wide. "You didn't."

He hands my phone over, and I read them. They don't directly say what only Parker knows.

"He could think you are just still mad about the physical abuse," I said, standing up and pacing the room.

Parker stares up at me. "Ren, you have to tell them at some point."

I nod. "And I will. Just not during March Madness." I sit back down. "I will." Even though I don't even trust the words coming out of my own mouth. When Parker falls asleep, I slip into the bathroom and cry, silent, earth-shattering sobs. Sometimes the best thing was to just let them fall, and fall they did.

"You like crap," Larry said the following day when I walked down to the lobby to board the bus.

"Thanks," I smiled at him. "Good luck today."

"The first shot is for you, kid." He nudged my shoulder with his fist. He had taken up to calling me kid, and it always made me smile, but today I fake it, and I give him the best fake smile I can give him.

Parker is over to me after talking to the PT on staff. "Ready?" He looks at me, and the look in his eyes makes me feel bad. This week was about Parker and March Madness; he needed to be focused. He had a whole team looking at him.

I nod. "Absolutely." I straighten and walk onto the bus as tall as I can. I get on the almost full bus that will take us over to the sports complex and yell, "Who is ready to win some fucking basketball?!" My father, the most composed basketball coach, used this saying quite a bit to get his team rallied up. And today, I wanted to be just a little bit of the legend that he was.

The bus is silent for a bit, and then the guys and whooping and hollering. Larry is in the back and stands up, hitting the seat in front of him. One of the guys hooks up his phone, and rap starts blasting out of the speaker. Coach was behind me and tips his head closer to me so Parker and I can hear him. "Well, that is one way to get them going." He laughs and sits down, shaking his head.

No way was I going to bring Parker down. I look over at him and smile, my mental health may have been shit, but I was not going to let it get me or anyone around me down. This week was about Parker. But I knew by looking at his eyes; I may have been fooling everyone else, but I was not fooling him. His eyes said it all, he saw me, he knew me, he knew I was not ok. He grabs my hands and squeezes, and takes the seat next to me. It would all be ok; March Madness just needed to get over.