Sage Whitehead has danced for as long as she could remember--it's always been a passion for her. And when she was given a scholarship to dance at Howard University, she jumps at the chance right away. Besides, it's always been her dream. However, Sa...
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"Do you really have to leave so early?" I questioned Colby who was finishing packing his bag. It was Sunday evening and Colby would be leaving to go to his parents' house Monday morning. For some reason I assumed he would be waiting on me to leave before he did, but I guess it was selfish of me to think that way.
"Yes I really gotta leave early, Sage. Ma Dukes been crying about how much she misses me so I'm trying to surprise her by showing up a little earlier." Colby spoke. He tossed what looked like the umpteenth pair of basketball shorts into his duffel bag, running his hand down his face. The win last night was very much needed. Time was ticking down slowly until playoffs would start, and the more wins they could rack up, the more guaranteed spot they had at the championships in March. They were doing good with only one lost in comparison to the nineteen games they had one. But it was only getting harder from this point on, and this last game definitely proved that.
"You look stressed," I took a step forward placing a cautious hand on his back before slowly wrapping my arms around his waist, resting my forehead against his bare back. The sun was slowly setting and our shadows danced against the walls of Colby's apartment bedroom. Vance's music could be heard from Colby's room and the slow sounds of Kodak Black was the soundtrack of the evening.
"I am. Coach been on my back about going pro--"
"Oh that's nice!" I cut him off quickly because it totally slip my mind that once this season was over, a lot of the players on college basketball teams were going to be going their separate ways, hopefully into good paying and well known NBA basketball teams. Of course I knew Colby was going to be part of the few people here at Howard who would potentially have the oppurtunity to get drafted, from what he told me, and from what the streets were talking, NBA was practically written in stone when it came to him.
"Yeah it'd be nice if I had time to think about it." Colby finished. I made a face, and thankfully he couldn't see it considering I was still behind him. "Think about it?" I questioned. Colby lived and breathed basketball and I thought that he'd be rushing at the oppurtunity to do what he loves and get paid beaucoup money for it.
Maybe it was nervousness.
"There's a lot more to it then just getting drafted. You gotta think about all the possible factors that could go down. Yeah I get paid a million for a two year contract, and I'm at my prime the first season, out here balling." Colby began. He was someone who talked with his hands, and as he spoke his body jerked left and right before he proceeded to pretend to shoot a shot at his overflowing trashcan. His abrupt movements caused me to let go of my embrace and get comfortable on his bed instead.
"And then I get injured and I don't play at all the next season. Now my contract is over, and they're--they're being the different corporate managers, PRs, coaches and the likewise of the NBA--are not going to want to sign anyone that's injured. So now I'm free for a whole season and nine times out of ten, I'm going to be free all the seasons after that and boom. I'm a nobody." Colby finished his story with a sigh and a shake of his head.
