Coach Grayson, lovingly known as Coach Devil, was exactly what Malik needed. The tryouts were fierce for a community college, no skill was left untested. The coach saw to each potential player's shooting, ball handling, defense, passing, rebounding, and footwork skill.

Communication was also at the forefront. The final drill had started with three players on offense coming down the court attempting to score against two waiting defenders. Malik who had attempted and made the shot got back to playing defense against the two defense players who in their then reversed position, attempted to score.

Malik's friends back in Egypt would've called him too American. If it wasn't football, it wasn't a sport.

"Fuck me," John said taking off his shirt. "Coach Demon better put us on the team."

Malik snorted. The tryouts had taken the edge off his anger in spite of it being there, lurking in the shadows along with the anticipation of today's talk.

"You won't change your mind?' John said." I could use a wingman?"

John was trying to hook up with a hot redhead who was a year his senior and on the cheerleading squad. Going to a bar and having to chat up another girl was going to be a hard pass no matter how much Malik wanted to help out John.

"I gotta go," Malik said after they'd cleaned up.

John tsked. "I need to tap dat fat ass. Your loss."

He reached the main building and took out his phone then Malik remembered he didn't own a cell and they didn't set a meeting point.

Malik wandered around and caught Jude sitting on the stairs of the main entrance. He was crouched at the far end alone and away from the groups of students, huddled over his sketchbook while his pen was gliding on the page. The hideous overalls which did nothing to his complexion were replaced by the usual ratty Converse and frayed jeans. He was pale but an improvement to the several shades of white he'd gone through in the bathroom.

Before Malik could speak, he saw him stiffen. Getting up in a slight graceful movement, He turned his pinched face to him although avoiding Malik's face and staring at a point on his biceps.

"Hmm," Malik said. "Hey, Jude?"

He shrugged in response.

Malik had been shuffling the names in his mind for the past hours until they could meet, trying to decide which he liked better. Being lied to was not cool.

"Noah suits you." He said and Noah looked up something akin to hope flickered on his face.

"Oh," Noah said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...you know."

Malik descended to the same level on the stairs looming over Noah.

Yup, Malik thought, I'm definitely cramming your space.

"I actually don't." Malik heard Noah swallow, "You have to let me in, man."

I want to trust you, was what he thought, and chose not to say.

"I'm sorry."

"Come on," Malik said and started down the stairs. "We can work this out over coffee instead of standing here as if we're a flash mob or something."

"What's a flash mob?" Noah huffed beside him.

"Seriously? The thing where a bunch of random people gather and break into a song or dance."

Jude, no, Noah said nothing.

They left the campus and got to the main street.

"He is someone I would like to be." Noah said in a low voice, "I wanted to start over and not carry the world around my shoulder."

"Like the song?"

Noah flushed.

"let's get coffee," Malik suggested. "I wanna be all ears."

The local diner and cafe was less busy than the early morning hours. There were no dreary 50s counters or red tables. A waitress had told Malik the place had been remodeled by the owner's hip son to resemble relaxed and popular coffee chains.

The crowd was also relaxed and not crazy with caffeine deprivation. There were people Malik knew from shared classes chilling and sipping iced coffee. A girl from the table nearest the counter was sucking on a frosty pink milkshake. It was piled high with whipping cream which she hadn't bothered to eat and it dipped further into the plastic cup with each hefty sip.

Noah was staring at her and dropped his gaze when Malik caught him.

She wasn't very pretty. Mousy hair and a patent leather jacket in a failed attempt to seem badass. Why would Noah check her out?

The guy in front of Malik picked up his order. The barista called next.

Noah stood beside Malik near the baked goods and sandwich display.

"Hi," the barista said."Are you, students?"

"Yeah," Malik fished his student ID out of his wallet.

The barista, who looked like a student herself, punched the info in.

"What would it be?"

"Cappuccino double shot." Malik had to watch his " What're you getting?" he asked Noah.

Noah's eyes flickered across the chalkboard where the café had written their flamboyant menu. The menu itself had the normal stuff with a low to medium high-calorie count to Instagram-worthy drinks like the Tipsy Unicorn, Purple Haze, and Danny Gazeebo.

Noah shook his head, "I'm okay."

"It's on me," Malik said."You took us out last time."

Noah mumbled something incomprehensible.

"What?"

"I..don't really like coffee." Noah raised his voice to an audible notch.

"You sure? They're good."

Noah said nothing and the barista cleared her throat. A line was forming behind them and while Malik didn't give a toss, he could see Noah was not going to budge and accept the invitation.

Malik scratched his brow.

"Just the cappuccino," he said to the barista who handed the card back.

Noah was staring again at the mousy girl, she was twirling the straw in the almost empty cup. Except Malik followed his gaze more closely. It wasn't directed at her but on the table and her drink.

"Can I have what she is having?" he said to the barista.

"Strawberry milkshake?" She asked.

Malik looked at Noah who flushed scarlet.

"No. I really don't want anything."

"Yeah." Malik told the barista," Strawberry."

***

They chose a two-seater table. Noah looked around the café and had to think for a few minutes when Malik asked him where he wanted to sit. It was amusing to watch Noah check the exit door, the bathroom, and the order-taking counter. He finally decided on the sofa and Malik took the chair opposite, placing the tray so the coffee was in front of him. The strawberry shake was piled high with whipped cream and dusted cocoa powder.

Malik took the plastic cap off his steaming cup. He blew to let it cool.

"Why wouldn't you tell me your name?"

"I thought we wouldn't meet again."

They spoke over each other. Noah gestured for Malik to go first.

"What else have you lied about? Do you even know what this shit," Malik slapped the tattoo under his shirt, "is about?"

The question came out harsh and Noah flinched.

"You can't accuse me of lying about this. And it was before I knew we would be..." Noah trailed off.

"Now that we're friends you'll be honest?" Malik spat out.

"I don't think we can be friends."

Wow.

"Why not?"

Noah held the straw pushing it up and down and twirling the melting whipped cream into the thick frothy liquid.

"It won't work."

Fuck this.

Malik held his tongue. He was pissed and frustrated yet Noah spoke without a hint of superiority.

"What will?" he said through gritted teeth.

"Partnership," Noah said. "Mutual benefit."

Noah was stabbing the straw through his drink.

"It's how the world works, right?"

Malik could see Noah's left hand balled into a tight fist under the table.

"How do I know," Malik pressed. "You won't lie again?"

Noah dropped the straw and crossed his arms over his chest.

"How do I know you will help if I call?"

Malik mulled it over. They had no common friends or history. Malik could swear on the bible he would help. He had the uncomfortable feeling he would help without asking for something in return. But he had no way of proving this. How could he ask Noah to prove he'd be honest if he wasn't able to prove he'd hold his end of the bargain?

"Fuck." Malik said.

Noah nodded. "Yeah."

Liz and some of the guys he shared pre-cal with flocked to the counter. Malik sipped his coffee, he didn't acknowledge the group, it wouldn't do to have them see Malik sitting with a janitor. How was he supposed to introduce Noah or explain why they were here?

Noah, oblivious, took a sip of his drink, his eyes lit up and he licked his lips. He took another tentative sip and swirled the shake before he could swallow, savoring it.

Malik felt his anger slowly dissipate.

Noah reached for the customer satisfaction on their table. He scratched on the paper with the pencil provided for the customers then slid the paper across to Malik.

Each week I promise to tell you a piece. A truth. I will prove what I can.

Malik looked at Noah who shrugged.

Malik sighed. "Okay. What're we getting into?"

"The tattoo. You're looking for a drug."

Rami was involved in drugs? No fucking way.

"Were you on it?"

Noah's eyes lowered to his lap. "I've taken it, yes."

"Huh." Was he a recovering addict?

"Were you dealing?" Malik asked.

"You think I could pull off being a dealer?" the corners of Noah's lips twitched, " I never thought I passed for a thug."

"Not all dealers are thugs."

"How many have you met?"

"None. You?"

"A few," Noah admitted, "they were frightening."

For a minute, Malik imagined Jude squaring off against hardass men with bullet scars, demanding his cut from the latest deal and ordering his legion of cartels. It was like imagining a rabbit growling at a bloodhound.

"What?" Noah asked.

"I just...yeah I dunno if you can be a dealer.''

"Is it my innate ability to hyperventilate?"

Did he just crack a joke?

"I was thinking more it's your looks."

"Too frail?"

"Too gentle," Malik said at the same time Jude demeaned himself. Homeboy was not a weakling.

An uncomfortable moment of silence landed between them. They listened to the clank of plates and cups in the cafe.

Malik cleared his throat. "Right. Drug. And?"

"Next week."

Malik scoffed. "God. You're like cable before Netflix."

Noah smiled and drank.

Malik swallowed his coffee. Hard.

"How is the shake?"

Noah's smile widened. "Phenomenal."