run of the mill.

29th

Beyonce swung her Nike bag over her shoulder and blinked a few stress tears away. She willed her mind not to think about the pain her body was in and continued to get ready to go. She rubbed her tight ponytail that she had shamelessly thrown together minutes before the game and walked to the locker room exit.
.
"Good game Bey," someone said behind her. Dizzy sat on a bench and put her shoes on. "You comin' to the after party?"
.
Beyonce shrugged. "I might chill, ya know?"
.
T grinned. "Yea, she tired as fuck after all them three's she was bustin' tonight! What was it Beyonce, thirty six points?"
.
Beyonce blushed and opened the door. "Thirty-eight."
.
Shawn was waiting for her in the middle of all the people milling and running around in the arena. She fished through the sea of people for his handsome face and broad shoulders. She was too anxious to see him and she had already admitted that fact when her heart fluttered upon finding him. She spotted his tall frame standing with a few friends, Bleek and Chris with a few other people. Beyonce smiled at him and made her way over, careful on her knee.
.
Shawn saw her coming and walked to meet her. He grabbed her in a hug and lifted her off her Nike's. Beyonce grinned down at him and kissed his puckered lips. "Good game."
.
Beyonce thanked him and allowed him to take her Nike bag since she soon learned to stop fighting when he asked for it. He hated for her to be under any type of strain while he was around. She never carried her own bag, took off her own shoes, or retrieved anything while he was around. It was cute so she said nothing. Shawn had a way of making her appear like she was helpless when she wasn't. He humbled her even when he didn't realize it. He kept her grounded. She felt it too cliché to say he completed her but... that's what it seemed to be.
.
Beyonce yawned and held his hand as he approached his friends. She was tired and she sort of had every reason to be. She had just played four full quarters and put down no bench time. She just wanted to lay down somewhere and put some ice on her knee. Beyonce scratched her hair and remembered she needed to go to the salon as Shawn dapped his friends up.
.
"We gettin' ready to get the hell up outta here."
.
Beyonce smiled at them and hugged the ones she knew. They congratulated her on a good game and watched the two of them walk away. "She got his dick in her purse man," one stranger said shaking his head and smiling. "You see how that nigga just dipped the fuck out."
.
Chris shrugged and leaned closer. "She may have shit, but from what I hear... she takes damn good care of it."
.
Bleek nodded his head in agreement. "Yep, some shit you might not never know nothin' about cause ain't nobody even tryna hold ya dick."
.
They laughed and waited for a separate person to come around.
.
Shawn asked Beyonce where she wanted to go after he had turned on his car. He knew what her answer was going to be. It was, conveniently enough, the same answer she had would say every time he asked her where she wanted to go after a game. He put the car in drive and slipped out of the spot he had backed into.
.
"My dorm, I'm tired."
.
Shawn nodded and pulled into the even more hectic traffic to get simply across campus. He hated coming to events like this because between the local new reporters trying to interview Beyonce while she was clearly tired and the traffic that they had to fend through to get out of the arena parking lot. One time, the game prior to this one, Shawn wasted a half a tank of gas just sitting in the parking lot waiting and riding his gas.
.
But he did it nearly every weekend for Beyonce. And when he was watching her play with all of the excitement, focus, and love, it was all worth it. She loved the sport and it was written all over her face every time she stepped on the court.
.
Beyonce plopped down on her bed once they reached her room and yawned. She looked at her watch and sucked her teeth. "It took us an hour to get here," she shook her head and looked at Shawn like she couldn't believe it.
.
Shawn nodded and stooped to take off Beyonce's maroon and white standard basketball Nike's. Beyonce just let him, pulling her USC sweatshirt that the basketball team was required to wear after and before every game. The pants buttoned down the side so she ripped them down her leg and sighed gratefully when Shawn took off her other shoe. Beyonce pulled the cheerleader shorts off her legs and left on her wife beater. She had showered in the locker room after the game and she could still feel wet hair behind her ears but she was too tired to do anything about it.
.
Clad in her white cotton underwear and a wife beater, Beyonce asked her boyfriend if he was staying the night. Shawn nodded as he turned on the TV and shrugged out of his letterman's jacket. Beyonce heard him bustling around and assumed he was getting a fresh wife beater basketball shorts to sleep in. All of his were in her top draw. Beyonce wondered if he had any left in his down room. The room dimmed and Shawn crossed to the fridge and got her a red Powerade and an icepack.
.
It had become somewhat of a ritual.
.
"You played good today," he mumbled, getting engrossed with Bourne Supremacy, a movie that was on when he turned the TV on. Shawn was almost useless when something good was on TV. His hands absently reached for Beyonce's leg and he glanced down at her knee in his lap before he started beating the icepack in his hands to separate the jewels. Shawn looked down at her knee and put the icepack on it, moving at around so that it molded to her perfectly.
.
Beyonce sighed after she had drank a swig of her Powerade. "Gave too many turnovers," she mumbled in response to his compliment.
.
Shawn said nothing. He just kept watching the movie and adjusting the icepack on her knee every once in a while, like he could tell when it was starting to numb her and needed to be repositioned. His back was leaned against the wall and he casually with his head facing the end of the bed where the TV was. She was not upset that she had just been ignored. She knew that Shawn was nothing when the TV was on. He was almost useless.
.
Beyonce flicked on a lamp that she had sitting on a shelf at the head of her bed and grabbed her Literature book from the floor beside her bed. Beyonce slid on her reading classes and started to read over the pages, adding sticky-notes where she saw fit.
.
She heard a familiar jingle from the TV and knew the commercials were on. "It was only three," he said once the commercial was on.
.
Beyonce pushed her glasses up on her nose and didn't look up from her book. "It was three too many."
.
Shawn could hear the anguish in her voice. She was trying to downplay the disappointment she had in herself. Shawn looked over her and sighed. "Hey," he said getting her attention. Beyonce lifted her arched eyebrows before she actually looked up from the book. Shawn jerked his head slightly and smirked. "Come'ere."
.
Beyonce smiled instantly. She lifted one eyebrow and leaned forward toward him. Shawn didn't move his head; he simply remained leaned back with his perfect fade lying against the wall. Beyonce leaned and leaned; glad she was flexible and finally made it to his soft lips. Shawn kissed her lips back warmly and slowly. Beyonce sighed, feeling her mind sigh in bliss. This was all I needed, she thought as his tongue tickled her lips and she parted them.
.
"You did good Bey," Shawn declared rather than convinced. She nodded and sat back just as the movie came back on.
.
Beyonce looked him over and wiggled her toes. "You know, if you're bored you can leave baby. I know there's a party tonight."