Pace Your Breaths With Mine

Chapitre Un: The Panthers

I'm at a college basketball game right now. It's the Jaguars versus the Panther's. The Panthers are winning, but it's easy to tell that they're running out of energy: all of them. It's because they're exerting way too much energy than they really need to by showing off. They should know that you can show off and save energy by pacing your movements to your breathing.

"God, they're ass." I mutter.

The coach from the Panther's hears me and turns to me, "I know right? Our boys are winning this one easily." he smiles.

"No, I meant your team. Don't get me wrong, the other team is trash too, but we're definitely worse."

He scrunches his eyebrows and turns his body to me completely, "how so?"

"They're using way too much energy and for nothing. They're out of shape."

He squints at me in recognition, "what's your name?"

"Raven. Raven Nava."

"Your father... he's Jayden Nava?" he asks.

I nod.

My father was one of the best basketball fitness managers ever. He's worked with over six different NBA teams, and even a NFL teams. The only ones I remember are the Lakers and the Ravens (it's literally my name). I don't really care much for football, but basketball? The sport was literally made for me. I don't play anymore because of an injury in my knee that still hasn't recovered, but I'd rather watch and coach anyway than to play myself. It's more entertaining this way. But seeing these guys sweating on the court makes me want to play so badly.

I watch as the point guard, jersey number one begins to bring the ball down. He brushes a stray hair out of his face then slows himself down some and then the ball as well. I doubt he even knows what he just did. He just changed the whole pace of the game. Suddenly, he picks the speed back up and drives the ball through the middle of the paint, making an easy layup. Nobody moved, not even his teammates. He's good.

He turns around and gets back to defense and I see his last name on his jersey: Cooper. He's out of shape just like, if not more, than everyone else but that move was something I know all too well. It's my uncle's. J.R Nava, a legendary NBA player. He passed away last year and the world's been in shock ever since. To see that play my uncle took years to master being used in a game by a college basketball player makes my heart warm.

"He's a bit more decent than the others. Captain?" I ask.

"Mhm. That's Dash Cooper. That kid loves this game with his entire being." I nod.

We watch the game through to the end and they win 119 to 87. That's embarrassing for the other team honestly.

I stand up and begin putting my coat on when the coach asks me, "can you come into our practice tomorrow?"

"For what?"

"You said my boys are out of shape. Whip them into it for me."

"What am I getting out of this?" I laugh.

"I'll pay you. Two hundred every practice you work through."

"Hmm. I guess I could swing by."

I didn't agree because of the money. With who my parents are, I obviously don't need it. I agreed because... I'm bored. I'm in college, yes, but I never do anything fun, you know? And I feel like this team is interesting enough for me to waste my time on them.

"Great, practice starts at seven tomorrow morning." he smiles then goes back to his team.

As I walk out of the door, I stop by the desk and ask their basketball manager, "how many points did number one score on his own?"

"Uhh, sixty-seven. He's good, right?" she smiles.

"Not really, I was just curious." I continue on.

He scored over half of his team points. She wasn't keeping score good enough though because he scored sixty-eight points. She misread the layup from the beginning of the game, and so did the score keepers. Their score is really one twenty.

I just got back to my apartment: it's a mess. I have clothes everywhere, my dishes aren't done, and my blinds are broken, which somebody should be here soon to fix.

I scurry around and pick up everything and when I finally start my dishes, my phone rings. It's my dad.

"Hello?" I answer as I set the camera up.

"Hey, big-head." he says.

"Sup, big-nose." I reply.

"I'm sending your brother to you on a train. He'll be getting off on twenty-second and he's gonna stay with you until next Friday."

"Uh, why?" I ask.

"A kid brought a gun to his school, so they have a week and a half off. The other half he's gonna come back and get this house cleaned up."

"Big-nose... you're making him clean that big ole house by himself? That's crazy. What'd he do?"

"He had a party, but didn't call Michelle to come help him clean so. Now he's doing it himself. That's what he gets." my father kisses his teeth.

He's gonna have the place cleaned up by the time JJ comes home.

"Why didn't you just make him clean now?"

"'Cause I felt bad for him. The kid came in his classroom with the gun and was pointing it at everybody so he's a little bit shaken up. His train should be there in an hour, so be there." I nod and then my Dad hands up.

Shit, the person who was fixing my blinds was supposed to be here in an hour.

I take my gloves off and call my friend.

"Hey, Camille. Are you nearby?"

"Yeah, I was about to stop by actually. Why, what's up? You need something?"

"Can you stay here until the guy comes to fix my blinds? I have to go pick up my little brother from the train station."

"Oh, little JJ's coming? I'll be there in five minutes, just leave the door unlocked for me."

"Okay, thanks, love you."

"Love you too." I pocket my phone and then leave out.

☕︎︎ ␈ ☕︎︎

I stand at the top of the station steps, watching as a bunch of people come up and stare at me.

"Big-head!" I hear.

I look past all the people and see my little brother waving. I hate that that's my nickname.

"Hey, JJ. How you been?" I ask as I sling my arm around his neck.

"Good. Somebody tried to air the whole school out today."

"I heard... why're you still in your basketball clothes? It's cold as hell out here."

"I was hot on the train so I took my sweatpants off. It is cold. Can we stop in there real quick so I can change?" he asks me.

I nod and we walk into the nearest restaurant. I stay by the entry area as my brother walks to the bathroom.

I just stand and look around when I notice the Panthers sitting at a dining table. I zone out a bit, but get brought back to reality when someone bumps into me.

"Shit, my bad." he says. I look up at him, and it's Dash Cooper. His hair is dirty blonde but his eyebrows are brown. His eyes are hazel.

"You good. Just watch where you're walking." I nod.

"You were standing in the middle of the walkway."

"And? That doesn't mean you just bump into someone, dude. I zoned out a bit, so what?"

"Whatever." he scoffs.

This son of a bitch.

I resist the urge to walk over to his table and smack him because my little brother comes out of the bathroom.

"Can we get something to eat while we're here?"

"Hell no. There's food at home."

I'm fuming.