"I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine."

Chris Omar Vaughn

I'm in a pretty decent place right now with this life shit. Things are... looking up. For the first time in a while, I can smile out loud and not immediately regret it after.
My father's back in my life and has proven to be more than the man he was when he last left our lives. I can call him dad without hesitating and that feels damn good.

My mother, that angel, she always makes me happy. I have her to thank for keep me somewhat on the right track.

I say somewhat because the rest is up to me. I have my demons, we all do, but I'm not about to blame my upbringing or past "trauma" on why I am the way I am right now.

Malcolm's left me alone lately, thankfully. Although, I'm not sure why and I've been pretty sus about it, but I can't complain. His absence has given me time to think about a lot.

First, I need out of his business. Weed is cool to smoke when I'm down, stressed, or can't sleep, but I never wanted to be his shadow and know all of the ins and outs. I feel like one of his henchmen, I'm almost no different than Sage. That motherfucker.

Next, I know it's basically forbidden, but Morgan and I had an amazing night. Beyond the sex, too, like we sat on opposite ends of my bed just talking for hours. I don't think I'll get that from anyone else. Or, I don't think I want to right now.

I'm dangerously close to telling Malcolm he needs to let her go. If I was more conniving, a little less mature, I'd devise some sort of plan to make her absolutely repulsive so he'd be glad to kick her out.
No but I can't meddle, what good would that do?
I had to tell myself she's in this for a reason and when she honestly wants out, she'll let him know that. I mean, it's not like he's holding her hostage? Right?

And working with Reuben Fisher is — I hate how corny this is going to sound— a dream come true. One step closer to my goals. Aheh. Just another thing I have to thank Morgan for.

Finally, the whole beat down still wasn't sitting right with me.
No one was happy Morgan's ex showed up, not even Morgan, and I'm sure the kid regrets it now. It's all Callie's fault, but she'll get her karma.
Maybe if Malcolm just roughed the guy up a little, scared him, I wouldn't care. In fact, I know I wouldn't. Hell, if my girl's ex showed up uninvited and unannounced to take her home with him, I'd make sure if he ever even dreamed of her again he'd wake up and apologize.

After Morgan left me, I barely slept. My alarm went off at eight and I got up to shower and make what AJ would deem a "good breakfast." It was just toast, some bacon, spinach and tomato, a hard boiled egg, and a protein shake - just like Mom used to prep for me on game days when I was young.

This new location— Olympia Arena for sports and fitness— was massive and an hour drive. If I was going to make it by my first game at eleven, I had to leave now to do what I had to do...

I walked inside the hospital and approached the nurse. She let me know what room he was in and then said I could follow her back.

"He hasn't talked much. We tried contacting his family but he just has an uncle who says he's too busy to fly out here. He mentioned a Morgan?" The nurse talked before we went inside of the patient's room.

"His ex," I pushed out.

She nodded her head of honey-brown coils. "Ah. He said he doesn't want to talk to her if she shows up. Let me ask if he's seeing anyone else. Your name again, sir?"

"He, uh, he won't know my name. Could you tell him it's just someone that was there, who's sorry?"

She pursed her lips and popped inside, leaving me to pace in the hallway.

My phone vibrated in the pocket of my shorts with text messages.

(2) AJ
7:53am Wake up!
9:13am Where are you dude??

(1) Mother
now Dad and I will meet u at the game. Drive safe!

(3) Malcolm
yesterday Do you think I messed up with Morgan?
8:54am hello???
9:01am get your ass here now. I need you

"He'll see you," the nurse let me know.

"Thank you," I said to her, dropping my phone back into my pocket.

I don't care for hospitals, but then again, who does? If I sat here and said I actually enjoy the solemn overtones, the uncomfortable cold air, or the smell, you'd think I'm crazy.

It wasn't all bad. I remembered having pneumonia in middle school and how I was out for almost two weeks. Everyone came to visit from school and family, Mom never left my side. Being a kid, I thought it was cool, all the attention. People wrote me online saying they were praying for me, and filling me in on the gossip.
At one point I thought I was going to die, then the hospital didn't seem so cool anymore. Because it was no longer sodas and cake for dessert, I had to take giant horse pills and be bathed because my body was so weak. It was embarrassing.

I can only imagine how Kyle must feel in this estranged land, no one to stay up with him or keep an eye open as he tried to sleep in case of emergency. He had no flowers, no stuffed animals, not even any "get well soon" cards.
I did figure the guy was a loser, but this is just sad. You mean to tell me no one could come visit the guy, his uncle's too "busy?" Maybe this is why he needed Morgan back so bad. . .

"W-who are you?" He asked me.

"I'm nobody, I just walk around hospitals keeping lonely people company," I made up.

"No, who are you, actually? You were there when it happened. Why?"

No pulling the wool over his eyes.

"Yeah," I sighed, taking a seat opposite of the bed. "My name's Chris, I'm a friend of—" I stopped myself.

If I say Morgan he'll have a fit, going on again about how she left him for me which isn't true, but makes sense. Or do I tell him I'm with Malcolm, the man who put him in here?

"I'm just Chris," I stated plainly.

"What do you want?"

"I'm sorry about what he did to you, it was uncalled for."

"Pfft, yeah, you're telling me," he said, hardly able to turn his neck or even wiggle his fingers.

"I bet you weren't expecting that," I tried to joke.

"What was I expecting? You don't let a girl like Morgan go and then just think you can come back into her life and sweep her off her feet? I'm stupid."

"I'll say," I commented.

"Dude, if you're not here to make me feel better-"

I laughed lightly. "Tough crowd."

"The doctor said I should be lucky I can still walk," Kyle said.

"That's good," I said, looking over his aching body.

"Then he walked across the room and I heard him tell a nurse that if he were me, he'd want to be put out of his misery."

"Oh, damn," I winced, scratching the back of my neck.

"Right..." Kyle moped.

I looked up at the home renovation channel he was tuned into.

Not liking the dead silence, I spoke up again.

"I can't sit here and act like I know what you're feeling right now, I don't. I've never been on the opposite side of a punch before."

"Again, not making me feel better," he groaned.

"But this isn't going to make or break you. You got a cool story to tell the next person. Shit, he didn't kill you, and trust me, he could've."

"Why are you being nice to me, dude?" Kyle barked. Getting all excited, he eased back onto the pillow and held his ribs. It hurt to watch.

I tore my eyes from his bruised face and raised both shoulders, rubbing my palms against one another as I looked for an answer.

"I did to someone else what Mal— I mean, that guy did to you. Maybe not as bad... Actually, it could've been worse, I don't know. I tried to suppress the memory until I saw him out one day with his family. He looked fine. Then I looked closer. It's the way he looked at me. He hates me, and I don't blame him, but it wasn't a good feeling at all. Every time he has to put those dentures in, or when his leg is feeling a little more weak than the day before, he probably curses me. And all I can think of is how he probably tells everyone I'm the devil when he retells the story," I told, hanging my head.

"You didn't deserve that, neither did he; and I fought him for way less. Nothing I say can change what happened, but, shit I don't even know what my point is," I cracked.

Kyle laughed through his nose. "Me either, but I appreciate it. I can tell you're sorry."

"Yeah, that was, like, three me's ago, so I like to think I changed - grew."

"If it means anything, and it probably doesn't, I think you did change."

"Well, it doesn't, but I appreciate that," I laughed with him.

"You're alright, dude," he complimented.

'Dude' must be an Arizona thing, I mentally noted.

"Back at you," I said, standing to go.

With nothing more to say, I faced the door.

"Chris?"

"What's up?"

He coughed trying to sit up.

"I-I don't want Morgan to see me like this. If I see her I'll probably forget what got me in this hospital bed and try to win her back again. Can you tell her I'm fine, I know she'll worry. Tell her I'm sorry, too, please? And that I hope she's happy for once," Kyle wept with his words.

"Yeah, man," I accepted. "Anything."

"Oh, and as for the person who did this. If you can face him: tell him I forgive him."

My eyebrows dropped. "Why?"

"Because," Kyle exhaled. "I know you want to be forgiven, what you did eats you up to this day. I believe in karma, and he'll get his, but he'll never see me again and don't want him seventy-years-old with the same regrets as you."

I opened the door and whispered after a passing nurse. She turned on her heels and asked if there's anything I needed.

"Just a pen," I answered.

When she handed one over, I walked back over to Kyle in the bed.

"What're you-" he struggled to see what I was doing.

"There," I chimed once done.

He couldn't see my signature on his leg cast so I read it for him:

Get well soon!

Kyle said, "About what I said, if you're seeing Morgan-"

I waved my hands. "No need."

"Well I approve," he expressed. "You're a good guy."

"When I want to be. I got to go, but take care, alright?"

"I intend to, brother. I intend to..."

***

11:34am

I made it into the arena. There were sports teams from all over of all ages and skill sets. The place was a mad house for athletes and spectators, complete with a hotel, an arcade, a restaurant, and over thirty basketball courts as well as a slew of other sports accommodations like volleyball, indoor soccer, and a full fitness center.

The lady said I didn't need to pay of course and placed a bright yellow wristband on me. I thanked her and kept it pushing, ignoring how good the pretzels smelled. The line was insanely long anyway.

I didn't even take my phone out of my pocket when it was vibrating because it was more than likely only AJ or Malcolm rushing me.

I remembered they said our first game was on court ten so that's where I headed. Besides, it's not like I'd miss anyone supporting my team, our colors were black and bright green. Yeah other teams had green but it wasn't as loud.

I snuck up on Adriel and dropped my Adidas bag by his ankles.

He jumped, scared, and then rolled his eyes once he realized it was just me.

"About time, man," he said, slapping my hand. "You're lucky they're running late."

"Will you relax, you act like you're playing, or something," I laughed at him. "Never met anyone so excited to do the shot clock before."

Jabari and my other teammates laughed with me as they all dapped me up.

"Man, I was buggin', didn't think you was gonna show," Jabari talked to me, chewing on a straw.

"Why wouldn't I?" I asked, scoping the place out.

"Man, thought Rodney ass had you scared, or somethin'," he tried to say. Jokes.

I dropped my arms and gave one dramatic "Aha!"

He waved me off. "Just be ready, white boy."

"Where's Malcolm, seen him anywhere?" I asked AJ.

He shrugged with the clipboards and ball bag in his hands.

"I don't know but you better find him fast, he has your new uniform," AJ let me know.

"New uniform— never mind," I rasped, walking around his body when my eyes landed on my mother.

She walked up fast with a seat cushion in her hand, followed by my father in a team shirt that matched his wife's. They sported my number — two— and our team colors.

"Hey," I greeted them both.

She gave me a big hug and then went on about how this is just like the old days.

Dad slapped my shoulder. "You good? You ready? You loose?"

"Yeah, Dad," I answered all of his questions.

They took a seat after chatting it up with some of the guys they already knew, and then found Julia and Kurt in the stands.

"Oh, Chris, your cousin is playing!" Mom broadcasted.

I caught that already and just returned my attention to the game to shut her up.

Jack's travel team was pretty good, they knew fundamentals and worked well as a team, that's why they were blowing the more talented all black team out. Jack could only shoot three's, that's why he loved Stephen Curry so much. He didn't do much else, really, sometimes a good block or two, maybe an assist. He's seventeen and wants to go D1, but I doubt that if he doesn't step up and become a more well-rounded player. Put him on another team, with people who are actually all good, and he'll fade into the background and ride the bench. I was sorry I was never around to give him any lessons, or anything, because he said he looks up to me the most. Well, after Stephen Curry.

The gym was packed, if you tried to walk in one direction you'd better walk with a purpose and not be so sensitive if you get bumped because you will get bumped. It's like the streets of New York City.
The girl teams would stop to make TikToks. The young guys were all trying to get girls numbers or impress them by jumping and touching the ceilings. And whoever wasn't playing was watching a game, getting something to eat, or sleep on the floor or in the bleachers. Man, it took me back.

"Where's Malcolm?" I asked my mother.

She stopped cheering on Jack for a second to answer me.

"You mean Morgan?"

I knew she was going to give me a hard time.

I groaned. "What did I say?"

She laughed warmly. "I would assume he is with Morgan," Mom hummed.

Dad butt in. "He was in the sky box last I heard. Hope he stays up there."

Yeah, not entertaining that.

Anyway, it wasn't even a second later when my eyes moved to the bathrooms some feet behind the bleachers where I was parked. And there, I saw her.

She stood there, absolutely glowing while still looking shy in this unfamiliar setting.

"This is almost like cheer camp, except it's not!" She beamed, joking.

I chuckled and pulled her further away from the hustle and bustle of the bystanders.

My eyes were big as they focused on the black stretch material of her haltertop, criss-cross back, biker short romper. What did I expect, her to come in a cheer uniform? She looked good, didn't overdo it, but it was an understatement compared to what else I know she could've thrown on. Her little feet were in a pair of Adidas and she threw on few accessories because not a lot were needed at this "charity" basketball tournament - just a gold necklace that said her name, some rings, a matching handbag, an anklet, and a hair tie on her wrist .

"I thought you weren't going to make it?" I talked to her, not even realizing that our fingers were locking behind her back.

She twisted her lips and looked up at me. "Couldn't miss it. Now, is this the sport with the puck or boxing gloves?"

I laughed in her ear. "Shut up."

She said, "No, I know. I love watching basketball, so you better be good."

I fell victim to her scent, letting it lure me in.

My eyes dropped to her full lips and I went against everything and kissed her right there, my hand squeezing her ass and I didn't care who saw.

"Stop," she blushed, pushing my chest.

"Where's Malcolm?" I asked because I actually did need to find him before my game.

"Not sure, I left him in the sky box. Why, gonna go come clean?" She teased.

I laughed, pulling the hair tie off of her wrist since I didn't have one.

"Win so we can go somewhere for dinner, your pick!" She gushed.

"LeRoux?" I was just joking.

Triggered, Morgan moved away from me and held off her laughter.

"I'm so damn tired of LeRoux," she whined, making me laugh.

"For good luck, though..." I said, pushing the hair behind her shoulders.

Morgan remained still as I removed her necklace and then clasped it around my own neck.

She smiled but tried to play it down. "Just.. Don't get caught trying to be cute, okay?"

"Trying?" I messed with her.

She blushed and rolled her eyes, going to greet my mother at the stands as there was less than six minutes left in Jack's game.

I sucked my lips into my mouth as I watched Morgan switch away and carry on with my family.

And then a second later, I heard, "Chris! What the Hell are you doing?!"