Hidden Gem Short Story Collection (9781301405985) (23 page)

He knew what Aubrey was trying to say to him
earlier, he just didn’t want to engage her in
that
conversation, especially after he caved and did a quick Google
search of the rumors that had been circulating about him. The
results gave him even more trouble falling asleep than usual, and
were now the reason that he was face to face with that unfinished
sentence and that unfinished email once again.

The media had it somewhat right – the list
of women that he had gone out with in the past couple of years was
enviable. But he wasn’t the late-blooming, womanizing heartbreaker
they painted him to be – at least not intentionally. When he
realized that he was possibly leading on some of his dates, he had
decided not to date at all until he was sure of his feelings for
someone. But being as unsure of things as he had been lately, it
meant putting a complete stop to his love life. It was a jarring
realization and unfortunately did nothing to stop the perpetuation
of his new image as a womanizer. Damian would still come home to
find a late night talk show host making a quick crack at his
alleged prowess.

Other than his teammates, Aubrey had been
his closest friend in the past couple of years. Everyone else that
had once been a big part of his life had moved onto new careers and
were all out on the east coast. He had been living on the west
coast for half a decade now, but he had yet to feel like it was
home. He was always happiest during away games that landed him in a
city close enough for an old friend to drop by and visit. In the
first year after Gemma moved back, Damian could always count on her
and Gavin sitting courtside when he played in New York. But after
awhile, with her new fashion line picking up momentum, Gavin began
to turn up solo.

Damian wanted to talk to Gemma about his
decision of where to play the next season. He had always felt
self-sufficient and capable of making his own decisions, but
anytime he felt like he actually had to talk something out, his
instinct was to turn to Gemma. Besides, everyone else had their own
biases and agendas with this decision. His teammates would just
want him to stay. His parents would just want him closer to home.
Gavin would come at it from a practical angle. Working in the
sports industry would definitely lead him to make the best
business
decision for his old friend. And then there was
Aubrey – having been born and raised in Los Angeles, she was a bit
biased towards the west coast. Though she never said it overtly, he
could feel her hinting at him to play for the Lakers – her own
personal favorite team.

But his dream had always been to play for
his
personal favorite – The New York Knicks. The fact that
it was even a possible option should have had him jumping to sign
the contract. And as much as he wanted to be on the east coast
again and in New York with all his old friends, it was that same
reason that held him back. He would once again be living in the
same city as Gemma for the first time since high school. He
imagined how she’d advise him to make the decision. He wondered if
she’d at the very least hint that she would want him to be close to
her. After all, he would be so close to her that there
would
be
no
excuse for him to “not try,” as Aubrey was so fond of
accusing him of doing.

Without thinking, he began to delete that
half-finished sentence once again.

Dear Gemma,

I’m writing because I wanted…

But he stopped there, staring at the
remaining words.

~

“Are you okay, man?” Josh asked, standing in
front of Damian in nothing but a towel. Damian had been sitting on
the locker room bench, his head propped up on his hands and his
elbows propped up on his knees. It was only when Josh asked him the
question that he realized how quiet the locker room had gotten. His
teammates were all staring at him, all in their varying states of
post-game undress. He hadn’t realized how depressing he probably
looked, still in his jersey and shorts and sitting like a man who
had just gotten kicked to the curb. He had singlehandedly brought
down the mood of the entire room.

“Sorry,” Damian said, straightening up.
“Trouble sleeping lately.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t gone home with Aubrey,
you would’ve gotten some sleep,” Josh replied. His teammates
chuckled cautiously. Damian flashed a quick smile, giving them
permission to laugh at the joke. He felt bad that everyone had been
tiptoeing around him. The last thing he wanted was to be an
emotional drag on the team.

“Are you guys all heading out somewhere
after this?” Damian asked. It was the longest string of words he
had spoken to his teammates in ages. Josh seemed to perk up at the
question. They were in New Orleans and despite a slow game that
ended in a loss, Damian knew his teammates weren’t about to pass up
the chance to party in the city before they left.

“Yeah!” Josh grinned, dropping his towel
with the same exclamation as his reply. Damian shook his head with
a laugh, leaning away from his happy, naked teammate. “Are you
gonna join us?”

“Once you put some pants on,” Damian said.
“Yeah, sure, why not?” His teammates let out quick whoops of
enthusiasm. It’d been some time since he had gone out with his
team, mostly due to the fact that he was sick of fielding questions
about where he’d be playing. It made him uncomfortable to know that
they had probably given it more thought than he had. But he figured
that he had refrained from hanging out for long enough and that the
guys had probably taken a hint about giving up the questions. And
if not, there would probably be enough girls and alcohol to keep
them occupied.

Damian headed into the shower stalls. His
teammates’ boisterous chatter faded as the water fell from the
showerhead. He leaned his forehead against the tiles, feeling the
warm water hit his sore shoulders. He was exhausted, having spent
the past weeks feeling tired but somehow unable to fall asleep. His
mind just wouldn’t let him.

Running a hand across the back of his neck,
he remembered the trick his mother had used to help him decide
between staying at UCLA or leaving to try his hand at pro ball. It
was a silly tactic, asking him to just say the first thing that
came to mind in terms of what he wanted – to stay in school or head
to the NBA. He blurted out “NBA” without a moment’s hesitation.

Damian had tried that same tactic with Gemma
when she had been going through a rough patch in her life.
What
can you do right now to be happy?
Her reply had come as a
surprise. Never quite the daredevil, her answer was for some reason
cliff diving. Despite confusion, Damian accepted her answer as what
she needed and interestingly, the cliff dive seemed to turn out
exactly as she had hoped. Gemma was suddenly able to make all those
big decisions that had scared her so much.

What can
you
do right now to be
happy?
Damian asked himself. He closed his eyes as he ducked
his head under the shower. When was the last time he felt
truly
happy? He had told Gemma that night that it didn’t
matter if she technically had everything – a dream career, a
comfortable life, a famous significant other. If there was
something wrong, something
off
that made her feel unhappy,
it needed to be acknowledged. Damian never thought he’d have to ask
himself this same question. He had felt “off” for a good year or so
now but he hadn’t been ready to acknowledge it, similar to how he
felt still unready to choose which team he wanted to play for next
season. He couldn’t even say for sure what teams he
wouldn’t
consider. The thought of considering anything overwhelmed him,
which was uncharacteristic. He had always been decisive, never one
to allow himself so much time in limbo.

He recalled that night in the men’s bathroom
of the Vicente Oak and how bizarre he had found Gemma’s sudden
desire to cliff dive. Damian could feel how overwhelmed she was. He
knew it wasn’t the time for questions, even though he had worried
until the day she returned that he had aided in something
potentially dangerous. He trusted her though, in a way that he had
found it difficult to trust others since.

That evening, he and Aubrey had gone back to
her place. He was shirtless and without a car, having given both
those things to Gemma for her sudden excursion. Throughout the
drive back, he watched Aubrey. He couldn’t help but admire her
beauty and how willing she was to help two people she hardly
knew.

By night, they wound up on her couch with a
bottle of wine. Somewhere halfway through their conversation,
Damian had leaned in to kiss her. Aubrey kissed him back, though
tentatively. But with his eyes closed, all he could see was Gemma.
They pulled away at the same time, bursting out laughing. Something
hadn’t felt quite right and Damian was thankful that Aubrey had
somehow felt the same way.

“You like her,” she had said. “Gemma.
Right?” Damian leaned back against the couch, drawing his knees
into his chest.

“I don’t know how to answer,” he replied,
truthfully. It was a little more complicated than that.

For the rest of the night, Aubrey and Damian
recalled their past relationships. Damian really only had one real
one under his belt – Nicki. Only after the years they spent
together, living together, going through just about everything
together, did he realize that he could barely count what he had
with Gemma as a real relationship. He cherished what they did have
– a complicated but beautiful friendship.

It was different with Nicki. He had fallen
for her while they were in school. She was fiercely independent and
unpredictable in a way that kept him excited and on his toes. But
after they moved in together, after he started playing for the
Warriors, after she had learned everything about his past with
“Queen Bee,” she was suddenly a different person. Damian wasn’t
sure whether she had always been that way and he had just been
blinded by love, or if his suddenly, somewhat unorthodox lifestyle
had drawn that side out of her. Either way, he knew he was doing
her more harm than good and knew he had to let her go.
Am I just
holding her back if I stay with her?

It was another decision he had made with
that silly little trick his mother had taught him. Growing up, he
had always found it to be overly simplistic and even insulting to
his intelligence. But more often than not, it seemed that the first
answer that came to mind was almost always the right one for him,
even if it was based more on emotion than practicality. This time,
he was too afraid to even ask himself the question. He didn’t want
to acknowledge the answers that might come of it.

“Hey, you fall asleep in there?” a voice
called, shaking him from his haze. The sound of falling water was
suddenly deafening, as if he had stepped out of his thoughts and
straight into a rainstorm. He peeked out of the stall to see one of
the team centers, Chris, looming in the doorway.

“Almost did,” Damian replied.

“Want me to grab you a Red Bull or
something?” Chris asked. Damian paused for a second, considering
it.

“You know what, yeah. I could use a
boost.”

~

Josh had gotten a private table at
Christophe, a dance club in the French Quarter. It was two stories
with an open courtyard in the middle where hundreds of people
gathered on the dance floor. Their table was sectioned off on the
second floor balcony overlooking all the action.

Having failed to find Damian an energy drink
before arriving at the club, Chris had decided that the next best
substitute was ordering him a Vodka Red Bull upon arrival. He had
downed two in quick succession, forgetting that the seven-foot-tall
Chris would probably handle the alcohol better. Damian could
already feel the slight delay in his thoughts and actions, but
something about the onset of his tipsiness felt like somewhat of a
relief. He wasn’t sure if it was the energy drink or the alcohol,
but he felt a slight burst through his veins that he hadn’t felt in
awhile. His teammates noticed too, happy to see Damian’s mood pick
up as he downed another drink and danced to the cheesy pop songs
that the club seemed to favor.

“Leave it to Josh,” Chris yelled over the
speakers. “The man has some skill, always picking the tacky-ass
spots no matter the city we’re in.”

“Aw, c’mon, it’s fun,” Damian laughed, doing
his best not to spill the new drink he had in his hands as he
danced.

“They’re Instagramming this shit. They
tagged me,” Chris said, flipping through his phone. “Not good for
my rep.” Damian stared at Chris for a moment, realizing he was
serious. He bit his lip back, suppressing the laughter that was
building up in his chest. Chris was a sophomore player who played
limited minutes, and like a lot of the younger players on the team,
he took his “reputation” a little too seriously. If Damian were
sober, he’d give Chris a pep talk and tell him not to worry, but he
was definitely on his way to being
very
drunk and was in the
mood to just embrace it.

Spinning away from Chris, Damian smiled into
his lowball of whiskey. He was too drunk to be looking at the
seven-foot-tall Chris sulking like a toddler who just dropped his
ice cream. As Damian ambled about the space, the door to their
private balcony swung open. Vlad, a forward on the team, came
barreling in. He made a beeline for Damian, wrapping his burly arms
around his shoulders.

“I am so happy you are here!” he yelled, the
smell of beer wafting from his big, bearded smile.

“Me too!” Damian yelled back, his voice
muffled against Vlad’s oversized pinstripe button-down shirt.

“And I know you don’t want to talk serious
things. You don’t want to talk contract and that is fine,” Vlad
said, pulling away and holding Damian by the shoulders. His smile
dropped into a very serious expression. Damian could tell Josh had
probably coached Vlad on the ride over to the club. He was a
passionate man and often talked himself to tears when expressing
his love for his team and the game of basketball. “We don’t have to
talk contract. We don’t have to talk anything but party.”