The Apartment

11

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Kareem

"Final Four. That's the goal." The coach stated after another gruesome day of practice.

Sweat trickled down my face as I tried to catch my breath. We had to end the day with suicides since we walked to the huddle. Therefore practice ended 45 minutes late. I just wanted to go home to my bed and Aaliyah's cooking. I was so fucking hungry. I thought to yesterday's Chicken Alfredo and my stomach began to rumble in anticipation.

All eyes went to me. The coach took his time approach me.

"You hungry, Price?" He asked.

"No, sir." I replied quickly.

"You should be. You worked real hard today and you finished the suicides first. I think you deserve to be hungry."

I pursed my lips. I hate when coach does that. He fucks with your mind and forces you to piss him off just to justify punishing you.

"I'm fine." I told him.

He nodded. "Good. That means you can give me 15 more suicides!" He stated, yelling towards the end. "Do not interrupt my huddle again!"

I took a deep breath and jogged to the end of the court. The faster I did this, the faster I could leave.

***

I stood in my shower soar as hell. I could barely feel my legs. I'm just gonna have to suck it up because if I slack off tomorrow, coach could make me run or worse, bench me the next game. Nah, this is my junior year. This is when I'm allowing for serious scouting, so I got to play as much as possible.

I looked around for my Dove Men liquid soap and groaned when I realized that I finished it this morning. I was supposed to get more after practice, but you know how that went.

I turned off the shower and grabbed my towel. I secured it around my waist as my way down the hallway. I heard Frank Ocean's Thinking Bout You coming from Liyah's room and knew she was there.

I knocked on the ajar door and waited for her to invite me in before opening the door fully. I found her on her bed with her medical books surrounding her. She had a pen in between her teeth a pencil jotting things down things in a journal and a highlighter attacking her books. She looked so focused with her eyebrows furrowed and a wrinkle forming in the space between her eyes. She didn't look up at me and continued to work.

"What?" She asked around the pen.

"Uh, do you got soap I could borrow? I ran out of mine and I need to finish my shower." I asked.

Her face scrunched up in thought. "Umm... I think so. Hold on."

She began to lift herself off the bed as she wrote some last minute things. I laughed at her determination and she stole a glance at me before looking back down. She then looked back abruptly with her eyes and mouth wide making the pen fall out from its position. Her eyes looked over my body, resting on my six pack and V-line. I smirked.

"Can I get that soap?" I asked in a cocky tone.

She looked back up at my face with a blush, but rolled her brown eyes to cover it up. Time to fuck with her. I walked up to her bed. Every step I took toward her she cringed into headboard. The whole time she watched my body. I stood next to her.

"The soap?" I repeated.

"U-uh i-it's u-under the umm... u-under the sink. Yeah." She gulped.

"Can you get it for me?" I asked. "I'on want to touch somethin' I'm not supposed to."