Half Court Press [Crash the Boards Sequel]

We Talkin' Bout Practice.

Zaria

Some time has passed since Malik's sudden yet unexpected death.

There's no clear answers to his untimely demise but everyone seemed to conclude foul play after an officer discovered his lifeless body in a utility closet.

Allen took the news hard.

Even though the two weren't on good terms it was obvious that Allen was somewhat looking forward to hearing from his old friend so they could work on putting the past behind them. Now that they can't, I can clearly see a change in his overall demeanor and view of the entire situation.

Allen withdrew, increasingly uncertain of whom he could trust. Other than family, the answers were scarce. He's been a lot more distant, cynical, bitter and cold. Not only to just me but to his friends and sisters as well.

I'm trying my best to be strong for the both of us and not take it personal but damn it's hard.

I could only thank the good man above that it was still basketball season in the midst of it all. Allen tried to channel his pain into basketball and it helped for the most part because there were friends to lean on if he needed them, along with opponents and iron rims to take his sadness and anger out on.

Those thats not close to Allen didn't know the raw and lingering wound he suffered from the death of his two good friends. All throughout the season their deaths hung over him.

My biggest fear or concern is when he's not on that court cause when the games were finished, Allen's mind wandered.

He pondered his own morality and, although we vowed to step in and financially support Malik's mother, he wondered whether he had done enough for his friends from Hampton, the guys who had sworn loyalty to each other. If someone was born into a life like theirs, was he forever cursed, no matter the blessings, to see his young friends lie in caskets?

"No matter the big contracts and fame, a man from the streets can never run so far away that the hands of those streets can't reach me." I remember him saying while sniffling through his tears after I broke the unfortunate news to him.

Allen withdrew into his own mind, wondering about trust and worrying about death.

He refused to step foot in Virginia, afraid of the memories it would stir and the tears and rage it would elicit. It was where he and Malik grew up and made promises before abandoning them, and where Reggie took his last breath. Virginia was where grief settled, and no, Allen just couldn't do it.

"If I go home everyplace that I see, every thing that I look at, all I'm gonna think about is Reggie and Malik. I'm just having a hard time just getting myself up to go there. I know it's gonna happen sooner or later. But for now, I just wanna stay away because I think about it too much everyday as it is, and when I get there, it'll be worse."

Without structure and basketball, Allen sank deeper by drinking his way through his paranoia. He spoke rarely with friends and family, and he invented new reasons to start fights with me. I was, he sometimes convinced himself, cheating on him or lying to him. According to him, it was only a matter of time before I slipped up and he could prove it. Usually when he woke up and the hangover loosened its bite, he would apologized for whatever he had said or done the night before, and despite my eroding patience, I always forgave him.