Deal With It Read Online Free Page B

people, and I’d be on my way to a multimillion-dollar contract. After that, I wouldn’t even need a full ride to college. I wouldn’t even need to go to college, as a matter of fact. My parents would be disappointed, but they’d get over it after I started throwing cash their way. Mom could get that two-story mini mansion in Buckhead that she’d been eyeballing since they’d posted a For Sale sign in the front yard.
    When I was smaller, she would wake up at the crack of dawnon Saturday mornings. She would scour the garage sales in the areas where rich people lived, like Buckhead. My father was a dentist who made good money. Mom was an attorney who made a nice salary, too, yet she still shopped at garage sales. What was the point in buying other people’s junk when you had good junk of your own? I never understood that.
    “We’re not moving to Buckhead,” my dad kept telling her. “We’re staying right here in College Park. Keep our money in this community.”
    That was the end of that. My father had a way of putting his foot down, and nobody asked any questions once he did. He was often unfair with his reasoning and usually responded with, “Because I said so.” And because he said so, it was so. It was like that when we discussed my future and college plans. In his mind, I was destined to be a Duke man. He’d graduated from Duke and went on to become a dentist. Therefore, it was in the stars that I graduate from Duke and become a dentist. There weren’t any other options, not according to Dad. Most days it depressed me to think about it, so I tried not to.
    Marcus Carter threw me a pass, and I headed down court. With the scout from Grambling gone, I could relax a little bit. As I took a shot from the three-point line and the ball hit the backboard and popped off of the rim, I thought, life can be so bittersweet sometimes.
    After practice I waited for Tameka to get changed and meet me out front. Most nights I drove her home, and sometimes we stopped at McDonald’s and grabbed a burger. Tonight wouldn’t be one of those nights, because I was exhausted. I hoped that my mother had prepared something good for dinner, like my favorite, chicken tortilla soup, or my second favorite, spaghetti with meatballs. It was cold enough for a meal like that, and I needed something to stick to my ribs. I zipped my coat up and braced for the cold. Tameka came rushing toward me, her jacketwide open, her gym bag flung across her shoulder, with a sock hanging out of it, and her shoes untied.
    “What’s up with you?”
    “I almost had a fight in the locker room,” she said.
    “What?” I was shocked.
    “This girl Darla was in there talking trash!” she exclaimed. “I don’t even know why she was in our locker room. She’s not even on the dance team.”
    The minute she said Darla’s name, I didn’t hear anything else she said. I immediately visualized those jeans Darla wore in my American history class, and that smile. I couldn’t imagine her in a catfight with my girlfriend.
    “Let’s go before I have to hurt somebody.” Tameka pushed the glass doors open, and a cool breeze rushed inside.
    She walked briskly toward the parking lot, and once she made it to my car, she stood there, with her arms folded, until I hit the locks. She hopped into the passenger seat, snapped her seat belt on and folded her arms across her chest again. “I can’t stand girls like that. They think they’re so tough when they’re with their girls. But I bet if I had her in a corner by herself, she wouldn’t have been talking all that trash.”
    Tameka ranted the whole way home, and I wondered if Darla was somewhere ranting to her boyfriend, too. Did she even have a boyfriend? And if she did, what would he be like? I wondered if I was her type, or if she even liked athletes. She probably liked nerdy dudes who competed on the debate team or something.
    The smell of chicken tortilla soup filled the house as I stepped inside, dropped my