Red Flags

Chapter 1

5 months earlier...

H

"That's an H for you, Jim," Scott says.

I pass the ball to him. "No shit," I say. Scott chuckles as he catches the ball. He backs up a few yards and shoots. The ball leaves his hands, soars through the air, and makes a swooshing sound as it enters the basketball hoop.

"You might as well give up now," Scott mocks.

"Yeah," I respond, "you should."

I take the ball and move to the spot where he shot from. My turn. I let the ball spin off my finger tips. It flies through the air and then... swoosh.

"Dammit," I hear Scott curse. We both laugh.

The next shot he makes is a miss. He gives the ball to me and I find a place to shoot from.

"Hey," says Scott. I look over at him. "How's your girlfriend?" he asks.

"Uhh..." I take a second to shoot. It makes it. "No comment."

I give the ball to Scott. "What, is she pissed at you again?" he asks, amused. "What'd you do this time?"

"I...well," I start, "I didn't go to her brother's funeral."

Scott is about to shoot, but stops. "Woah, wait," he says. "Danny died? How? He was, like, six."

"No, not Danny. Her older brother, Adam. He was a marine, killed in action."

"Wow, that sucks." It was not uncommon to lose a loved-one to the war. In fact, over 3\4 of the United States' population knew someone who died in combat. I consider myself very lucky be an exception.

Scott shoots, and misses.

"That's an H," I say.

"Why didn't you go?" He asks, ignoring my comment.

I catch the ball as he passes it to me. "Well, I've only been going out with Jane for a few months, and I know her mom hates me. Plus, I never even met her brother." I shoot the ball...swoosh. "I don't know, I guess I felt that I wouldn't...belong."

I pass the him the ball. He shoots, and misses. H-O.

"Looks like I'm a ho." Says Scott. We laugh for a second, then he says,"Well, looks like you win, little bro." He shoots the ball one last time, misses, I starts toward the back door of our house.

"Oh, come on," I say. "We've still got four more letters to go."

"Nope," he says, and shuts the door behind him. I stand there for a moment, alone in our outdoor basketball court, then I pull out my phone. I should probably call Jane.

She, however, beats me too it. My screen lights up and projects the words CALL FROM JANE. I answer and Jane's scared voice comes through.

"James, turn on your TV." she says.