We entered the coffee shop and got a seat next to the windows overlooking the street. It was before the lunch rush, so the coffee shop wasn't crowded yet. Alex seemed a little bit more relaxed compared to the kickboxing session. Maybe he concluded that he would have to speak to me if he wanted this relationship to continue.

We ordered and I finally got a good look at him, perhaps for the first time since I requested him to talk sincerely about his problems. I knew I was changing my mind on the spot, one time saying to him we need to take it slow, and the next day giving him an ultimatum. However, the look on his face and his posture while boxing was still haunting me.

He swallowed, and I felt the uneasiness oozing from him, but I thought I had to push him. I knew that maybe we hadn't spent enough time together for him to trust me yet. But at the same time, I thought to myself, that it was time. 

His next game was in a week, and in contrast to the one they had yesterday, this one they needed to win, if they wanted to qualify. I knew that because Dylan had told me about it. And since Aileen loved basketball - every type of it, pro, university, and pre-school - she kept track of when the important games were on. So I knew Alex's game was coming up.

"Look your game is coming up next week," I quietly started, "and I believe basketball is still the most important thing in your life. I can see it is, due to the way you talk about it. I highly doubt that you want to fuck that up. And you not telling me in my eyes equals putting your future as a basketball player in danger. If you tell me the whole story, not just the part about your girlfriend, maybe I can help you and not just be an ornament to your life."

I stopped as I saw the waitress coming with our food. We stayed in an uncomfortable silence, which was broken by me picking up my knife to start cutting my avocado toast.

"Okay, there is something I haven't told you," Alex's voice surprised me.  However, it was followed by a longer pause, "... about my family. My father doesn't support this journey or career path for me."

He was looking at his plate, embarrassed because his profession didn't mean as much to his parents as it did to him. It brought him joy. What kind of parent didn't want their child to love what they did and be very good at it?

"He thinks it's a waste of time. He thinks I am making a mistake, going on a full scholarship for athletes and doing everything I can to have my future in this sport."

I put down my utensils and I carefully watched him. I wanted to see his facial expression and every emotion behind the story he was telling me. That's how I would know if he was telling me the whole truth. But at that moment he was being completely honest with me. Nowhere to hide meant nothing to hide as well. So he continued. He continued strong and bold in confessing everything that had been weighing him down since the summer.

"The only person, that believed I could make it with this career, was my granddad, and he died last spring. A little bit before I broke up with Laura. Just before actually. He was my biggest supporter, he and grandma came to every game and they brought Aaron with them," he noticed the confusion on my face so he explained, so he explained, "my little brother Aaron."

"I haven't played an important game since Grandad died. I am afraid that it won't be the same since he won't be there. He was the only one who would speak up to my father. That would stand up for me and my dreams. He bought me my first basketball and now he won't be there when I play," his head was now completely bent over his plate. Not looking up, his shoulders were tensed with emotions he didn't want to show. And I knew that this man before me, had been through hell in the past six months fighting for what he loved to do, but knowing nobody was waiting for him at the finish line. He might have had a team, friends, and the whole university cheering for his success, but the people who mattered to him the most didn't want him to succeed. Quite the opposite.

"Well, we all have parents that maybe don't support our every decision. And I see how your father could be intimidating. I understand that you're scared because everything in your life changed all of a sudden, but your granddad wouldn't want you to quit now. Not on the next game or the one behind that. He would want you to play, and I am sure your grandmother and Aaron are still going to come by and cheer for you," I tried to give him a little comfort with my words.

His head was still bent, overflowing with emotions. "Hey, please don't look away now. I am sure you'll play as well as you did when your granddad was watching you or even better. You love the game, your granddad loved the game. It will be a form of getting to keep him in your life. By playing you'll honour your memories of him," I attempted once more.

His head was slowly coming up, and I noticed his chocolate brown eyes were sparkling, holding back the tears. "You shouldn't be afraid to cry, the grieving period after someone takes up to two years, so this is completely normal," I didn't want him to feel insecure about being vulnerable.

"No, I am good," he remarked and massaged his eyes.

"I am good," he repeated to reassure himself, that he could do it.

I slid from my side of the table and came closer to him on his side. I wrapped my arm around his and put my head on his shoulders, "You don't have to pretend with me that you are over somebody when you're not. You had a shock, maybe you think it wasn't that big. Maybe you think that was supposed to happen at some point in your life. And that are all valid excuses, but the pain and the doubt you are feeling right now are also valid. Your feelings are valid, your hopes and dreams about the future are valid, and you are valid. Once you accept that, nobody can take anything away from you anymore."

I noticed his breath hitched, and his muscles tensed under my touch. "You really should be a motivational speaker, you know," he joked to make the situation lighter.

I knew that was a coping mechanism. He needed time and I could, and I would respect that. So I slowly untangled my arm from his bicep and I slid back into my side of the booth. We slowly ate as we talked about our classes. He told me more about Aaron, his younger brother, how he liked dinosaurs and knew every one of them.

After our meal, we headed to the subway and back to my apartment on campus. He left me before my door, thanked me for a well-spent midday, and walked to his basketball practice. I watched him leave as the autumn-coloured leaves on the trees surrounded him. In the light of the afternoon, his silhouette was slowly drifting further away. I went in as my head was spinning from his pain. I was afraid my words had crossed some boundaries. I was afraid I had crossed boundaries by giving him an ultimatum. As I was recalling our past conversations, he hadn't been any different this time. And in my head, I started referring to him as just Alex, and I thought that was a step into friendship territory.

Coming into my room, I had a good feeling about it. Maybe I could help him and not just watch him from the sidelines.