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"Malik, let me holla at you for a second."
I stopped doing the practice layups and made my way over to coach Davis, the basketball coach at the school.
"Wassup, coach?"
"Good to see you, Malik. I was worried you weren't going to show up to try outs," He said, placing his hands on his sides.
"Yea, well. I thought it over and here I am."
"You know, I promised your mom that I would get you to tryout so that you could stay out of trouble," he said lowering his voice and looking around to make sure no one was paying attention to our conversation.
"Yea, she told me."
"I feel like this will be a good thing for you. I already know you're good. How do you feel about being the starting point guard this year?"
"I don't know, coach. That sounds like a lot of responsibility," I said, scratching the back of my neck.
I barely wanted to be on the team in the first place. I surely didn't want a position as important as starting point guard.
My mom was so convinced that I needed to join an extra curriculum activity to keep me out of trouble. The only reason I decided to do it was to ease her mind.
Basketball was the only sport that I figured I could tolerate so I came to the early try outs. I only played for fun with the guys at a street court, but I was pretty decent at it.
"Just think about it and let me know," he said. "All you gotta do is make sure you keep your grades up, which is something I'm not worried about. You're a smart kid."
I nodded my head as a response. I was just ready to get this try out over with so I could go home for the day.
"You know Darryl would be very proud of you."
I froze at the sound of my dad's name. I was hoping he wouldn't even bring it up, but he did. Everyone seemed to, and I hated it.
It was bad enough that I was there when he was killed. Every time someone said his name, the whole scene replayed in my head like a movie.
Ever since that day, I prayed each night that I would wake up from this horrible dream. I guess God ain't heard my prayers cause I ain't woke up from it yet.
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