sometimes you gotta beat a motherfucker assCaptain Canada wrote: ↑26 Jun 2024, 09:05Putting boxing gloves on your son and whooping his ass is crazy
Requiem for a Broken Dream.
Requiem for a Broken Dream.
Requiem for a Broken Dream.
It had only been a few weeks, but Kam was still taken aback about how nothing had changed as they pulled into their parking spot, the same usual suspects milling around the door that led into the apartment complex.
“You need any help, Ms. Jolie?” yelled one of the boys.
“We got plenty of hands,” she flashed him and the others a smile, “Y’all not bothering any pretty girls today, are you?”
“Just you,” responded another, which made her blush, “You’re a lucky man, Mr. Dustin.”
“Just make sure y’all don’t leave no trash out here,” Dustin, Kam’s grandfather, addressed them as they walked past.
Their faces tightened once they seen Kam come out of the car, more out of reflex of seeing another black teenager than any issue with him.
“I tried my best to set your room up like how it was,” Jolie opened the door of the apartment where Kam had lasted only a few days before his premature exodus.
“Thanks,” Kam only took a brief look inside as he dropped his bags at the edge of the bed and returned to the living room with his head buried into his phone.
“We got some food,” Jolie announced, “A couple of the ladies from the church stopped by earlier today, fixed all your little favorites. At least when you were younger. I know how finicky you teenagers can be, so you got a little bit of everything here.”
“I’m actually not hungry right now,” Kam received the notification on his phone that he had been waiting on since his plane landed, “I’m going to step out for a bit, I’ll eat when I get back, thanks.”
…
“They really be in the street in bikinis and shit?”
“It’s not really near the beach like that,” Kam explained to Jamal, “Besides, not like the girls out here don’t be half naked anyway.”
“I don’t know why you’re looking over here,” Lana rolled her eyes, “I keep it classy; I keep it cute.”
“I’m going to have to come check it out,” Jamal said of Tampa, taking a sip of his drink, “Especially with the unlimited visits now, USF might get one out of me. Come fuck up the city with my boy, just see what the Latinas hitting for down there.”
“You might be into boys by then” Trevor poked fun, “This man went running to an all-boys school, can you believe that?”
“Watch your mouth,” Jamal held his index finger in front of Trevor, “You the one under a nigga ass before every play, probably sniff your fingers too.”
“We’re running the spread this year,” Trevor corrected him, “Since both our starting running backs want to ditch us for some sun and the other for some boy butt.”
“I still fuck more bitches than you,” Jamal fired back before looking towards Lana, “Don’t say shit to Yolana.”
“I don’t talk to that girl,” Lana scoffed, “They’re too extra for me, bunch of childish bitches just running their mouths about who fucking on who.”
“She goes to college for one semester and already too grown for us,” Kam shook his head, eliciting a playful middle finger from Lana, “Back to Jamal bum-ass though, weren’t you Muslim for like a couple of months?”
“That was my uncle Yusuf,” he remembered fondly with a smile appearing on his face, “He was living with us for a while, damn near converted my daddy but my mom wasn’t going for none of that shit.”
“She didn’t want a sister wife,” Trevor teased, as was his nature.
“Would it be fucked up if I fucked my dad’s second wife? Nobody really talks about shit like that,” Jamal seemed proud of his thought exercise, letting it marinate as he looked into the distance.
“You don’t need to smoke anymore,” Kam took the blunt away from me which made everyone laugh, including Jamal.
“You hitting that motherfucker,” Trevor remarked, noticing that the foursome had already gone through three blunts as they sat on the bed of his pickup truck.
“It’s been some legendary smoking sessions this summer,” Kam boasted, “I’m talking six, seven blunts to the head between two, three people.”
“That shit don’t fuck up your running?” Jamal inquired, always limiting himself to just a few drags occasionally.
“Fuck if I’d know,” Kam shrugged, “My dad be making me run in the morning and shit but half the time, if I just sleep in, he’ll leave me.”
“What about football?” Jamal asked.
“I only been to one practice,” Kam downplayed it, still embarrassed about what had occurred, “I don’t know if I’m even going to be playing this year, no bullshit.”
“You are bugging,” Trevor told him, “You might as well come back here, I ain’t trying to hand that bitch off to no JV fake superstar motherfuckers.”
“You know your ass want to throw that bitch hundred times,” Kam tried to joke himself out of the situation, “That’s about the only way you’re going to Notre Dame with Jenny.”
“Jenny isn’t going to no fucking Notre Dame,” Lana quickly rebutted, “Trust me, I filled out her applications, she’s going to be at Rutgers with the rest of y’all.”
“Glad to know you hating on all bitches, not just black ones,” Jamal quipped, “I mean, goddamn, can’t a bitch dream? No disrespect to your girl, not calling her a bitch or anything like that.”
“She is a bitch,” Trevor didn’t hold back, “You know she’s still mad about that shit you pulled at the boat?”
“What shit?” Kam was intrigued, and relieved that he was no longer the subject of conversation.
“He didn’t tell you?” Trevor looked at Kam and then towards Jamal, “This motherfucker here, boy! Listen to what he did. So bet, we..”
…
Kam felt his heart fluttering just like it did a few years ago when he first walked into the same room with Lana locking it behind her. He followed her scent to the bed, where he took off his shoes and sat on the edge of the bed as she walked towards her closest, undressing herself before putting on an oversized NYU sweatshirt which draped over her panties.
“How long are you down here for?”
“Just until the fall semester starts again,” she replied before turning the question back to him, “You?”
“Just the weekend,” he looked around the room for any sign that life had moved on without him, “You visit often?”
“Not really,” she joined him on the bed, crossing her legs which only accentuated her luscious thighs, “I’m like lowkey hoping my parents start complaining and finally get me a car.”
“In the city though?”
“I mean,” she explained, “Yeah, it’d be a little nuts but one of my homegirls, her parents have a spot out in the Hamptons and like no one is there once the summer is over so we could drive over there like almost every other weekend.”
“The Hamptons?” Kam raised his eyebrows, “You’re never beating the bougie girl allegations.”
“Trust me,” she started fixing her hair into a bun, “Over there, I’m the poor bitch. It’s summer house this, winter spot that. Like, I thought we were suburban until I met those bitches over there.”
“What about the guys?” Kam’s mind couldn’t help but wonder where she had gotten the sweatshirt from.
“I didn’t really meet any guys,” she said unconvincingly.
“Yeah,” he replied sarcastically, as he got up from the bed.
“Don’t be like that,” she grabbed his arm, “All of my roommates have boyfriends so it’s not like we’re going out, trying to talk to niggas.”
“You really expect me to believe that?”
“Believe what you want,” she let go of his arm, “It’s not like I’m your girlfriend or anything.”
“So, you did hook up with someone.”
“Yeah and?!” she yelled at him, “It’s not like you didn’t hook up with anyone!”
“This shit is for the fucking birds,” Kam quickly got out of there, slamming the door behind him.
…
Kam thoroughly enjoyed every bite as despite his dad’s best efforts, it had been a while since he had some quality home cooking. He cleaned apart the last rib that was in front of him, debating on whether to devour yet another plate.
He thought better of it, mainly out of fear of waking up his grandparents as he quietly placed the empty plate in the trash and grabbed a bottle of water before heading towards his bedroom.
They were the definition of old school so there was no television in the bedroom and on the walls was just about every trophy and achievement Kam had accomplished, academically, on the track and more prominently, on the football field.
He was particularly proud of his 10U Quarterback MVP Trophy, the only year he played the position as Trevor's dad had a falling out with the offensive coordinator. He didn’t really know what he was doing so Cory would help coach him after practice, using YouTube clips to help guide as he had never played the position either.
There was also the 12U Championship Game MVP where Jamal got knocked out of the game and Kam carried the ball on every play of the second half.
Kam started perusing through the dozens of recruitment letters that his parents – and now grandparents – had stockpiled in a plastic bin. They weren’t scholarship offers and many of them were generic, boilerplate letters that schools send out to thousands of kids, but he still remembered being so excited when Michigan sent him one, even though they misspelled his name.
His mom was excited as well, which brought a tear to his eye as he started to remember all their talks about how important going to college was and having a backup plan for football. At the time, he didn’t particularly care for those conversations but as he sat there in his bed with the tears now bursting through, the recollection of those conversations was all that he had.
“You need any help, Ms. Jolie?” yelled one of the boys.
“We got plenty of hands,” she flashed him and the others a smile, “Y’all not bothering any pretty girls today, are you?”
“Just you,” responded another, which made her blush, “You’re a lucky man, Mr. Dustin.”
“Just make sure y’all don’t leave no trash out here,” Dustin, Kam’s grandfather, addressed them as they walked past.
Their faces tightened once they seen Kam come out of the car, more out of reflex of seeing another black teenager than any issue with him.
“I tried my best to set your room up like how it was,” Jolie opened the door of the apartment where Kam had lasted only a few days before his premature exodus.
“Thanks,” Kam only took a brief look inside as he dropped his bags at the edge of the bed and returned to the living room with his head buried into his phone.
“We got some food,” Jolie announced, “A couple of the ladies from the church stopped by earlier today, fixed all your little favorites. At least when you were younger. I know how finicky you teenagers can be, so you got a little bit of everything here.”
“I’m actually not hungry right now,” Kam received the notification on his phone that he had been waiting on since his plane landed, “I’m going to step out for a bit, I’ll eat when I get back, thanks.”
…
“They really be in the street in bikinis and shit?”
“It’s not really near the beach like that,” Kam explained to Jamal, “Besides, not like the girls out here don’t be half naked anyway.”
“I don’t know why you’re looking over here,” Lana rolled her eyes, “I keep it classy; I keep it cute.”
“I’m going to have to come check it out,” Jamal said of Tampa, taking a sip of his drink, “Especially with the unlimited visits now, USF might get one out of me. Come fuck up the city with my boy, just see what the Latinas hitting for down there.”
“You might be into boys by then” Trevor poked fun, “This man went running to an all-boys school, can you believe that?”
“Watch your mouth,” Jamal held his index finger in front of Trevor, “You the one under a nigga ass before every play, probably sniff your fingers too.”
“We’re running the spread this year,” Trevor corrected him, “Since both our starting running backs want to ditch us for some sun and the other for some boy butt.”
“I still fuck more bitches than you,” Jamal fired back before looking towards Lana, “Don’t say shit to Yolana.”
“I don’t talk to that girl,” Lana scoffed, “They’re too extra for me, bunch of childish bitches just running their mouths about who fucking on who.”
“She goes to college for one semester and already too grown for us,” Kam shook his head, eliciting a playful middle finger from Lana, “Back to Jamal bum-ass though, weren’t you Muslim for like a couple of months?”
“That was my uncle Yusuf,” he remembered fondly with a smile appearing on his face, “He was living with us for a while, damn near converted my daddy but my mom wasn’t going for none of that shit.”
“She didn’t want a sister wife,” Trevor teased, as was his nature.
“Would it be fucked up if I fucked my dad’s second wife? Nobody really talks about shit like that,” Jamal seemed proud of his thought exercise, letting it marinate as he looked into the distance.
“You don’t need to smoke anymore,” Kam took the blunt away from me which made everyone laugh, including Jamal.
“You hitting that motherfucker,” Trevor remarked, noticing that the foursome had already gone through three blunts as they sat on the bed of his pickup truck.
“It’s been some legendary smoking sessions this summer,” Kam boasted, “I’m talking six, seven blunts to the head between two, three people.”
“That shit don’t fuck up your running?” Jamal inquired, always limiting himself to just a few drags occasionally.
“Fuck if I’d know,” Kam shrugged, “My dad be making me run in the morning and shit but half the time, if I just sleep in, he’ll leave me.”
“What about football?” Jamal asked.
“I only been to one practice,” Kam downplayed it, still embarrassed about what had occurred, “I don’t know if I’m even going to be playing this year, no bullshit.”
“You are bugging,” Trevor told him, “You might as well come back here, I ain’t trying to hand that bitch off to no JV fake superstar motherfuckers.”
“You know your ass want to throw that bitch hundred times,” Kam tried to joke himself out of the situation, “That’s about the only way you’re going to Notre Dame with Jenny.”
“Jenny isn’t going to no fucking Notre Dame,” Lana quickly rebutted, “Trust me, I filled out her applications, she’s going to be at Rutgers with the rest of y’all.”
“Glad to know you hating on all bitches, not just black ones,” Jamal quipped, “I mean, goddamn, can’t a bitch dream? No disrespect to your girl, not calling her a bitch or anything like that.”
“She is a bitch,” Trevor didn’t hold back, “You know she’s still mad about that shit you pulled at the boat?”
“What shit?” Kam was intrigued, and relieved that he was no longer the subject of conversation.
“He didn’t tell you?” Trevor looked at Kam and then towards Jamal, “This motherfucker here, boy! Listen to what he did. So bet, we..”
…
Kam felt his heart fluttering just like it did a few years ago when he first walked into the same room with Lana locking it behind her. He followed her scent to the bed, where he took off his shoes and sat on the edge of the bed as she walked towards her closest, undressing herself before putting on an oversized NYU sweatshirt which draped over her panties.
“How long are you down here for?”
“Just until the fall semester starts again,” she replied before turning the question back to him, “You?”
“Just the weekend,” he looked around the room for any sign that life had moved on without him, “You visit often?”
“Not really,” she joined him on the bed, crossing her legs which only accentuated her luscious thighs, “I’m like lowkey hoping my parents start complaining and finally get me a car.”
“In the city though?”
“I mean,” she explained, “Yeah, it’d be a little nuts but one of my homegirls, her parents have a spot out in the Hamptons and like no one is there once the summer is over so we could drive over there like almost every other weekend.”
“The Hamptons?” Kam raised his eyebrows, “You’re never beating the bougie girl allegations.”
“Trust me,” she started fixing her hair into a bun, “Over there, I’m the poor bitch. It’s summer house this, winter spot that. Like, I thought we were suburban until I met those bitches over there.”
“What about the guys?” Kam’s mind couldn’t help but wonder where she had gotten the sweatshirt from.
“I didn’t really meet any guys,” she said unconvincingly.
“Yeah,” he replied sarcastically, as he got up from the bed.
“Don’t be like that,” she grabbed his arm, “All of my roommates have boyfriends so it’s not like we’re going out, trying to talk to niggas.”
“You really expect me to believe that?”
“Believe what you want,” she let go of his arm, “It’s not like I’m your girlfriend or anything.”
“So, you did hook up with someone.”
“Yeah and?!” she yelled at him, “It’s not like you didn’t hook up with anyone!”
“This shit is for the fucking birds,” Kam quickly got out of there, slamming the door behind him.
…
Kam thoroughly enjoyed every bite as despite his dad’s best efforts, it had been a while since he had some quality home cooking. He cleaned apart the last rib that was in front of him, debating on whether to devour yet another plate.
He thought better of it, mainly out of fear of waking up his grandparents as he quietly placed the empty plate in the trash and grabbed a bottle of water before heading towards his bedroom.
They were the definition of old school so there was no television in the bedroom and on the walls was just about every trophy and achievement Kam had accomplished, academically, on the track and more prominently, on the football field.
He was particularly proud of his 10U Quarterback MVP Trophy, the only year he played the position as Trevor's dad had a falling out with the offensive coordinator. He didn’t really know what he was doing so Cory would help coach him after practice, using YouTube clips to help guide as he had never played the position either.
There was also the 12U Championship Game MVP where Jamal got knocked out of the game and Kam carried the ball on every play of the second half.
Kam started perusing through the dozens of recruitment letters that his parents – and now grandparents – had stockpiled in a plastic bin. They weren’t scholarship offers and many of them were generic, boilerplate letters that schools send out to thousands of kids, but he still remembered being so excited when Michigan sent him one, even though they misspelled his name.
His mom was excited as well, which brought a tear to his eye as he started to remember all their talks about how important going to college was and having a backup plan for football. At the time, he didn’t particularly care for those conversations but as he sat there in his bed with the tears now bursting through, the recollection of those conversations was all that he had.
-
Captain Canada
- Posts: 4997
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
Requiem for a Broken Dream.
Get this man back on the football field. Foolin' around with situationships
Requiem for a Broken Dream.
the evolution must be televisedCaptain Canada wrote: ↑26 Jun 2024, 21:27Get this man back on the football field. Foolin' around with situationships
Requiem for a Broken Dream.
“You’ve shown up to two practices all summer and the first one, you reeked of alcohol,” Coach Sutton placed another bit of dip into his mouth, “You were late with bloodshot eyes, looking all drugged up for the second one. Now what exactly would you be bringing to my team?”
“I’m ready to take it seriously,” Kam replied with a somber tone, “I’m not asking for anything, just a shot at making the team, sir.”
Since his return from New Jersey, Kam had attempted to attend practices only to be turned away at the door. He had begun to watch from afar, sitting in the bleachers whenever the team would be installing its offense and defense. This went on for over a week until Coach Sutton finally invited him to his office, which Kam mistakenly took as an indication that his relentlessness had begun to work.
“I’ll tell you what you bring,” Coach Sutton leaned forward in his chair until he was practically face to face with Kam, “A fucking crash out looking to wear his jersey to school, help him get some fast-ass girls, fucking up my team, being a piss poor example to the young guys. I don't care how many damn yards you ran for up there, I don't need that shit on my team.”
“You don’t even know me,” Kam couldn’t help but mutter, which only made the situation worse.
“I don’t care to either,” Coach Sutton leaned back into his chair, “You can’t keep showing up here. These are closed practices. The next time you’re on that field, in the middle of my practice, I’m calling the cops on you for trespassing. Got it?”
Coach Sutton didn’t wait for an answer as he stood up and walked out of his office, leaving Kam in there by himself with his thoughts. He was always pretty good at basketball and even played baseball for a couple of springs, mainly because that was Cory’s favorite sport. He needed something, anything, to stop him from walking over to Marcus’ or Johnny’s house and toiling away another day.
He walked out of the office to the sight of the team moving like a herd out of the weight room and out onto the practice field, the bright sun peering through the once dark hallway. He looked at the double doors that led out of the athletic building, contemplating going home before turning back around and following the group outside.
The coaches didn’t notice him in the heap of all the players, all wearing the same white tee shirt and black shorts.
“We got 110s to end the day! Y’all know the drill! Speed guys, fifteen seconds or it doesn’t count. Mids, you've got to beat eighteen seconds. Big boys, get your fat ass across the line before twenty seconds. First group!”
Kam hurried to the front of the line, getting in his stance. While some of the other players noticed him and the murmurs started, none of the coaches seemed to as Coach Caleb blew his whistle.
Having learned his lesson from last time, Kam started off with strong, powerful strides which left him towards the end of the pack before picking up speed near the halfway point and using those same strong, powerful strides to finish the sprint near the top of the group.
“What are you doing here?” Coach Justin greeted him at the other end as he tried to catch his breath, “Coach Sutton okayed this?”
Kam didn’t reply as he focused on his breathing, continuing to get looks from the rest of the players as they joined him on the other side of the field.
“First group, again!” Coach Jackson commanded before blowing his whistle.
The first sprint took a lot out of Kam, as evident by his sluggish start and not being able to catch up as much ground as before, finishing near the bottom of the group which got Coach Caleb’s attention.
“What the fuck is this numb nut doing here?!” Coach Caleb pointed towards him, eliciting laughter from the players that weren’t already dying of exhaustion, “Ant! Our favorite player is back!”
Coach Sutton looked away from his conversation with others on the coaching staff near the track and towards the football field, quickly noticing the sheep among wolves.
“Get your ass off my fucking field before I drag you out of here,” he said sternly as he began walking towards Kam, “You keep fucking with my team and we’re going to have a problem.”
“You’re going to have to drag me off this bitch then,” Kam walked towards the starting line, getting in his stance.
No one else joined him as they all looked with anticipation, waiting to see what was to unfold as the second group crossed the finishing line.
“You think you’re tough shit?” Coach Sutton got right in his face, nearly bumping Kam with his outstretched belly.
“No, sir. I just want another chance,” he looked him in the eye, keeping his hands by his side despite his father’s teachings of never letting another man get that close to him without preparing himself for a fight.
“I’ll run his ass out of here coach,” Coach Caleb said with a smirk, “By the time I’m done with him, he ain’t never going to show up to this field again.”
“He’ll call his momma on us,” Coach Sutton struck a chord he didn’t intend to, “You ready for that, big boy?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Coach Caleb,” Coach Sutton motioned him over, “This right here is all yours.”
With an almost devilish grin, Coach Caleb started walking towards the other field on the other side of the track, waving Kam to follow him.
“This is about to be the worst day of your life,” he said with cackling laughter.
…
“Are you excited to be back on a team again?”
“Yeah,” Kam answered honestly, looking away from his computer for a moment before locking eyes with Dr. Bracco through the Zoom video call, “I mean, today felt like absolutely hell but shit, it’s over with now.”
“What else is new since we last spoke? I was glad to hear from your father last week that you wanted to start your sessions back up again.”
“Nothing much,” Kam’s streak of honesty didn’t last very long, “Still adjusting to Tampa but it’s pretty straight.”
“Making any new friends?”
“Not really, maybe when school starts.”
“How are you filling your time throughout the day? TV? Video games? Walks? I’ve never been to Tampa but I’m sure it’s beautiful.”
The real answer was too shameful to admit, “I play basketball at the park every now and then, its right across the street from the apartment.”
“Your dad…he coaches boxing, right?”
“Yeah, I’ve trained with him a few times since I’ve been down here.”
“That must be a cool experience. How are you guys getting along?"
“It was definitely weird at first,” his first truthful answer in a while, “But he didn’t like force it, you know, trying to be like a super dad or something. He was chill about it, except for those morning runs, I fucking hated those. But I don’t know, he’s just a regular guy I guess and that’s good enough for me.”
Kam thought he might have said the wrong thing as Dr. Bracco looked away and was intensely writing something down before looking back up towards the camera.
“What do you want to get out of this?”
“What do you mean?”
“You asked to see me again. Why?”
“I want to feel like myself again,” Kam answered plainly, “I mean I’m still sad sometimes over what happened and then other times I’m angry about but…I don’t want to forget them or like get over it but at some point….I just want to go back to being me again.”
“I’m ready to take it seriously,” Kam replied with a somber tone, “I’m not asking for anything, just a shot at making the team, sir.”
Since his return from New Jersey, Kam had attempted to attend practices only to be turned away at the door. He had begun to watch from afar, sitting in the bleachers whenever the team would be installing its offense and defense. This went on for over a week until Coach Sutton finally invited him to his office, which Kam mistakenly took as an indication that his relentlessness had begun to work.
“I’ll tell you what you bring,” Coach Sutton leaned forward in his chair until he was practically face to face with Kam, “A fucking crash out looking to wear his jersey to school, help him get some fast-ass girls, fucking up my team, being a piss poor example to the young guys. I don't care how many damn yards you ran for up there, I don't need that shit on my team.”
“You don’t even know me,” Kam couldn’t help but mutter, which only made the situation worse.
“I don’t care to either,” Coach Sutton leaned back into his chair, “You can’t keep showing up here. These are closed practices. The next time you’re on that field, in the middle of my practice, I’m calling the cops on you for trespassing. Got it?”
Coach Sutton didn’t wait for an answer as he stood up and walked out of his office, leaving Kam in there by himself with his thoughts. He was always pretty good at basketball and even played baseball for a couple of springs, mainly because that was Cory’s favorite sport. He needed something, anything, to stop him from walking over to Marcus’ or Johnny’s house and toiling away another day.
He walked out of the office to the sight of the team moving like a herd out of the weight room and out onto the practice field, the bright sun peering through the once dark hallway. He looked at the double doors that led out of the athletic building, contemplating going home before turning back around and following the group outside.
The coaches didn’t notice him in the heap of all the players, all wearing the same white tee shirt and black shorts.
“We got 110s to end the day! Y’all know the drill! Speed guys, fifteen seconds or it doesn’t count. Mids, you've got to beat eighteen seconds. Big boys, get your fat ass across the line before twenty seconds. First group!”
Kam hurried to the front of the line, getting in his stance. While some of the other players noticed him and the murmurs started, none of the coaches seemed to as Coach Caleb blew his whistle.
Having learned his lesson from last time, Kam started off with strong, powerful strides which left him towards the end of the pack before picking up speed near the halfway point and using those same strong, powerful strides to finish the sprint near the top of the group.
“What are you doing here?” Coach Justin greeted him at the other end as he tried to catch his breath, “Coach Sutton okayed this?”
Kam didn’t reply as he focused on his breathing, continuing to get looks from the rest of the players as they joined him on the other side of the field.
“First group, again!” Coach Jackson commanded before blowing his whistle.
The first sprint took a lot out of Kam, as evident by his sluggish start and not being able to catch up as much ground as before, finishing near the bottom of the group which got Coach Caleb’s attention.
“What the fuck is this numb nut doing here?!” Coach Caleb pointed towards him, eliciting laughter from the players that weren’t already dying of exhaustion, “Ant! Our favorite player is back!”
Coach Sutton looked away from his conversation with others on the coaching staff near the track and towards the football field, quickly noticing the sheep among wolves.
“Get your ass off my fucking field before I drag you out of here,” he said sternly as he began walking towards Kam, “You keep fucking with my team and we’re going to have a problem.”
“You’re going to have to drag me off this bitch then,” Kam walked towards the starting line, getting in his stance.
No one else joined him as they all looked with anticipation, waiting to see what was to unfold as the second group crossed the finishing line.
“You think you’re tough shit?” Coach Sutton got right in his face, nearly bumping Kam with his outstretched belly.
“No, sir. I just want another chance,” he looked him in the eye, keeping his hands by his side despite his father’s teachings of never letting another man get that close to him without preparing himself for a fight.
“I’ll run his ass out of here coach,” Coach Caleb said with a smirk, “By the time I’m done with him, he ain’t never going to show up to this field again.”
“He’ll call his momma on us,” Coach Sutton struck a chord he didn’t intend to, “You ready for that, big boy?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Coach Caleb,” Coach Sutton motioned him over, “This right here is all yours.”
With an almost devilish grin, Coach Caleb started walking towards the other field on the other side of the track, waving Kam to follow him.
“This is about to be the worst day of your life,” he said with cackling laughter.
…
“Are you excited to be back on a team again?”
“Yeah,” Kam answered honestly, looking away from his computer for a moment before locking eyes with Dr. Bracco through the Zoom video call, “I mean, today felt like absolutely hell but shit, it’s over with now.”
“What else is new since we last spoke? I was glad to hear from your father last week that you wanted to start your sessions back up again.”
“Nothing much,” Kam’s streak of honesty didn’t last very long, “Still adjusting to Tampa but it’s pretty straight.”
“Making any new friends?”
“Not really, maybe when school starts.”
“How are you filling your time throughout the day? TV? Video games? Walks? I’ve never been to Tampa but I’m sure it’s beautiful.”
The real answer was too shameful to admit, “I play basketball at the park every now and then, its right across the street from the apartment.”
“Your dad…he coaches boxing, right?”
“Yeah, I’ve trained with him a few times since I’ve been down here.”
“That must be a cool experience. How are you guys getting along?"
“It was definitely weird at first,” his first truthful answer in a while, “But he didn’t like force it, you know, trying to be like a super dad or something. He was chill about it, except for those morning runs, I fucking hated those. But I don’t know, he’s just a regular guy I guess and that’s good enough for me.”
Kam thought he might have said the wrong thing as Dr. Bracco looked away and was intensely writing something down before looking back up towards the camera.
“What do you want to get out of this?”
“What do you mean?”
“You asked to see me again. Why?”
“I want to feel like myself again,” Kam answered plainly, “I mean I’m still sad sometimes over what happened and then other times I’m angry about but…I don’t want to forget them or like get over it but at some point….I just want to go back to being me again.”
-
Captain Canada
- Posts: 4997
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
Requiem for a Broken Dream.
Redemption arc incoming
Requiem for a Broken Dream.
the sun shall rise indeed
Requiem for a Broken Dream.
Eddie waited for a whistle that never came as Kam kept barreling towards him, lowering his shoulder and putting the talented junior on his backside as he dragged the other defenders into the endzone.
“The acclimation period is over with!” Coach Caleb yelled to his defense, “I want y’all to nail his ass!”
Kam was less than courteous as he pushed defenders off him on his way back to the offensive huddle, towering over the guys that were supposed to be blocking for him.
“You’ve got to seal that edge,” Coach Sutton instructed one of the reserve linemen, making no mention of Kam’s touchdown run, “Chris! Get your ass in there at right tackle!”
Kam was relieved as Chris, who was undersized in his own right but was one of the team’s bigger linemen, rejoined the group.
“Twins Left, F Motion, 62 F Option,” Coach Sutton relayed to the backup quarterback who repeated it to himself a few times.
“Alright, we’ve got Twins Left…. F Motion….62 F Option on one, on one, ready!” Kieran barked out his orders.
“Break!”
While the other players hurried to their spots, Kam sort of lingered around behind the sophomore quarterback, unsure what his responsibilities were.
“What I got?” Kam tried to get Kieran’s attention to no avail as the quarterback got under center and began scanning the defense.
“Blue 80,” he waved towards the slot receiver to motion from the left side of the field to the right side, lining up just a few yards away from the tight end, “blue 80, set, hut!”
At the snap of the ball, Kam took a step forward until he saw Kieran dropping towards him and he quickly jumped to his right, looking for someone to block before releasing to the flats.
“Goddamn it!” Kam could hear Coach Sutton scream out while the play was still going on, only to turn around and see Kieran swallowed up by the defensive line.
Kam anticipated the offensive line getting a chewing out only for the ire to be directed towards him and yet another mistake of his in pass protection.
“It’s fucking 60 protection!” Coach Sutton screamed at him, “You set to your fucking left and then you release. Why would you be fucking releasing right to where the Y is optioning? You’re bringing your defender into the fucking read area!”
Kam had no rebuttal, only a head nod as he bit into his mouthpiece, his internal frustration growing as well.
“Danny, take his ass out. We need to get some of this fucking passing game installed,” Coach Howell sent in the reliable senior, hitting Kam on the helmet with the playbook as he joined him on the sideline.
“You’re showing us something with your running,” Coach Howell, the team’s running back coach, told Kam, “But if you keep fucking up and getting gassed, I can’t fucking play you, man. You know Danny boy is going to get his, I’m trying to get you out there my boy but goddamn, make it easy on a motherfucker.”
“Yes, sir,” Kam grabbed the nearby water bottle and splashed some water onto his face, enjoying the cooling sensation that ran down his chest, “I was cooking them boys, though.”
“More like slow cooking,” Coach Howell teased.
The speed difference was evident throughout the summer and even more so on the field but when the pads came on, Kam quickly took advantage of the team’s lack of size compared to the competition he was used to up north. While even some of the defensive linemen could beat him in a foot race, none of them stood a chance at tackling him one-on-one in the open field.
They were a program on the rise after winning just one game in their post-COVID season before winning seven games last year in coach Sutton’s second season but still lacked the size. A former college player that interned in the NFL, he ran an advanced offense that helped hide some of the Yellow Jackets’ athletic shortcomings in combination with Coach Caleb’s military background which drilled in the discipline and hard-work mantra that had begun to be ingrained into the program.
Kam didn’t care about any of that, he just wanted the ball.
…
“Ange didn’t let you fuck, nigga. Stop lying!”
Kam couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh as he listened to the banter in the locker room, throwing his shirt over his head. While he hated the early camp practices, it came with some upside as they avoided the scorching sun for the most part and were free to go by the early afternoon.
“You’re just hating on me because you get no bitches,” the skinny receiver retorted, “Ron was there.”
“You was in the room? Y’all a bunch of nasty niggas,” DeAaron quickly pivoted as he pointed towards one of the only white kids on the team.
“Hell nah,” the tight end defended his honor, “I mean, I was in there when they started kissing and shit, but I left that bitch before they got naked or anything like that.”
“How do you know they was naked?” DeAaron’s brother, DeWayne, joined in on the fun between the juvenile sophomores, “It’s the details that get you caught, my boy.”
“How else are you going to fuck a girl?” Ron quickly fired back but it was too late by then as everyone laughed at him and Tyrone.
“I don’t know why you laughing,” Tyrone held his hands up, “We all know y’all be running trains on bitches.”
“That’s my brother, though. You don’t even know this nigga for real,” DeAaron explained.
While they continued debating the etiquette of abominable endeavors, Danny walked over to Kam and dapped him up, “They got you back here with the savages?”
“I don’t mind it,” Kam shrugged, throwing his gym bag over his shoulder, “Shit, sometimes you need to hear some dumb shit after practice to relax a nigga.”
“You can do better than that,” Danny laughed, “We’re about to slide to Big Mike’s crib after this if you trying to come.”
“Nah, I’m good, appreciate it though.”
“You ain’t never trying to hang, bro. I’m telling you, Big Mike got a nice ass crib, going to be some food, some girls. Come fuck with us, bruh.”
Kam finally relented, “Yeah, I’ll slide.”
…
“No disrespect, but how the fuck do you go to Blake?” Kam couldn’t help but ask as he continued to admire the view from the apartment which oversaw downtown and had a clear view to the bay where the cruise ships and yachts were.
“This motherfucker can’t even step in a church,” Danny interrupted Mike as he got ready to answer.
“He’s got jokes,” Mike rolled his eyes, “But yeah, I got kicked out of middle school for smoking, so all the Catholic schools turned me down and then I got kicked out of Tampa Prep for fighting.”
“He punched a teacher,” Danny once again interrupted, “It wasn’t no regular fight.”
“Anyway,” Mike continued, “My parents sent me to Blake on some scared shit straight, thinking I was going to beg to get pulled out, but I fit right in with these motherfuckers.”
Kam simply nodded as he was surprised by Mike’s past given his calm demeanor both on the football field and in their limited interactions outside of it. Like many of the other offensive linemen on the team, he lacked the height of what a college coach would be looking for and wasn’t exactly a finisher on the football field either.
After hitching a ride in his Ford Explorer and seeing his apartment, however, it was clear why he had so many friends on the team.
“Your parents don’t mind this shit?” Kam continued to inquire.
Most of the attendees had gone home already but at its peak, there were at least a dozen people inside of the apartment, partaking in their various vices while most of the football players stuck to water if you were more level-headed like Mike and Danny. Kam opted for a Michelob, which went down like water for all intents and purposes.
“They’re more of the ‘do it at home’ type,” Mike explained, “Besides, they’re in some fucking mountain in Tennessee this week.”
Kam was taken back to when Cory took him camping to Stone Mountain once, just the two of them a few months before he would legally adopt Kam. He was too much of a snot nosed punk at the time to truly appreciate the gesture, but he had grown to appreciate the lengths that Cory went to make him feel like his own, especially after Anna was born.
Kam quickly snapped out of his thoughts as the shapely blonde took a seat on Mike’s lap.
“You promised we’d go tonight,” she pleaded to Mike, who Kam assumed to be her boyfriend based on her behavior throughout the night.
“We’d barely be able to get into any place,” Mike sucked his teeth, “I’m not trying to end up like last time, just wasting our fucking time. Besides, everyone is chilling right now.”
“All the girls want to go,” she stood up, crossing her arms, “If they leave, you know damn well they’re all going to follow us there.”
“She’s got a point,” Danny pointed the top of his water bottle towards Mike.
“Your ass ain’t going nowhere unless Ravie is there,” Mike jabbed his best friend.
“I can get her to come,” the blonde now focused on Danny, deciding to use the ole reliable tactic of ‘divide and conquer’.
“She only fucks with hood dudes now,” Danny initially waved her off, “But I ain’t never turned down a challenge, you feel?”
“Fine,” Mike quickly held up his index finger to tamper her excitement, “Y’all better figure out where the fuck we can get in without a fake, I’m not getting my shit took again.”
“I know a spot,” Kam chimed in, to everyone’s surprise, “I’m not really dressed for Ybor though, so y’all can go without me.”
“I ain’t hearing that shit,” Mike sprung into action, “You’re about my brother’s size, he got a bunch of designer shit he don’t even wear.”
…
“You sure we haven’t met before?”
“I don’t think so,” Kam shrugged as he shook Halie’s hand, Mike’s girlfriend who had been tasked with keeping an eye on while Mike hurried to the bathroom, “I just moved here.”
Danny had vanished earlier in the night to try to meet up with this ‘Ravie’ girl up in SoHo, leaving Kam as the lone remaining male in a group of other girls. By all accounts, they were all spoken for and were just here for the free drinks that came with hanging out with Mike even if their boyfriends weren't tagging along.
“How do you know this spot then?” asked one of the girls.
“I’ve been here a few times,” Kam downplayed it, as he was on first-name basis with most of the staff here.
It was one of the few bars in Ybor where the decibel level made it possible to engage in conversation without screaming and the lowkey vibes allowed you to get drinks without being carded -- if you weren’t acting like a dickhead.
“You won’t believe this shit,” Mike muttered to Kam as he rejoined the group, grabbing his beer from the hi-top table that he had been nursing all night, “I think these motherfuckers were trying to get me for my chain, bruh.”
“Deadass?” Kam turned around to look towards the narrow hallway that led into the bathroom but didn’t see anyone.
“Yeah, he flicked my shit and was asking me how much it cost. Someone else came into the bathroom and he just walked out. Weird ass nigga.”
“You good?” Kam asked Mike, who seemed a bit pale from the incident.
“It’s time for us to get going anyway,” he finished off his beer before motioning towards his girlfriend who had wandered over to the communal table with the Jenga pieces, “We’re about to head out!”
“Already?” she briefly complained before finishing her drink as well, as did the rest of her friends.
Kam followed Mike to the bar as he closed out the tab, keeping an eye out for anyone moving funny. Kam wasn’t used to being on the other side of the coin, ironically at the same bar where they had stolen many wallets and purses.
With the tab closed, the group exited the establishment only to run into a familiar face.
“Aw, shit. He’s with you?” Johnny exclaimed, pointing towards Mike.
Mike nearly shat himself as Johnny dapped Kam up, bringing him in for a big hug, “Ayo, Marcus!”
Kam hadn’t noticed that Marcus was leaning on the wall just a few paces away, enjoying a cigarette. A smile lit up his face as he put it away and started walking towards Kam, eyeing the rest of the group before dapping him up.
“Jersey went and got Hollywood on us,” Marcus touched the collar of Kam's Versace shirt before continuing to size up Hailey, “I don’t blame you though, goddamn.”
“What y’all niggas doing here?” Kam awkwardly laughed as the rest of the group remained firmly behind him, unsure what to do.
“Nigga, what you doing here?” Marcus reversed the question, “Showing these good folks a good time?”
“Almost got them booked for they shit,” Johnny said with an aggressive tone as he mean-mugged Mike for a moment before flashing a smile, “All good, big dog. I ain’t know you was with my man, just a misunderstanding.”
“It’s straight,” Mike felt compelled to say something, even with the big lump in his throat.
“Where y’all headed to next? Let us buy y’all a round, on account of my partna here,” Marcus playfully shoved Johnny, “Can’t bring this motherfucker nowhere, Jers.”
“We were heading out actually,” Mike quickly replied, “Thanks for the offer, though.”
“Come on, babe. Let’s just get one drink, they’re buying anyway.”
“We’re going home,” Mike reiterated to Hailey, whose face started to fill red, “Maybe some other time?”
“I’ll catch up to you later,” Kam dapped Mike up, partially embarrassed over what had happened in the bathroom and wanting to avoid the awkward car ride. He didn’t want them dropping him off in front of his dad’s apartment either, not after being at Mike’s nice ass apartment all day.
“For sure,” Mike said softly before disappearing into the street with the rest of his group.
“We getting fucked up tonight or you going to bitch about having practice tomorrow again?” Marcus put his arms around Kam.
“Ain’t nobody bitching,” it didn’t take long for Kam to decide, “Where we at with it?”
“The acclimation period is over with!” Coach Caleb yelled to his defense, “I want y’all to nail his ass!”
Kam was less than courteous as he pushed defenders off him on his way back to the offensive huddle, towering over the guys that were supposed to be blocking for him.
“You’ve got to seal that edge,” Coach Sutton instructed one of the reserve linemen, making no mention of Kam’s touchdown run, “Chris! Get your ass in there at right tackle!”
Kam was relieved as Chris, who was undersized in his own right but was one of the team’s bigger linemen, rejoined the group.
“Twins Left, F Motion, 62 F Option,” Coach Sutton relayed to the backup quarterback who repeated it to himself a few times.
“Alright, we’ve got Twins Left…. F Motion….62 F Option on one, on one, ready!” Kieran barked out his orders.
“Break!”
While the other players hurried to their spots, Kam sort of lingered around behind the sophomore quarterback, unsure what his responsibilities were.
“What I got?” Kam tried to get Kieran’s attention to no avail as the quarterback got under center and began scanning the defense.
“Blue 80,” he waved towards the slot receiver to motion from the left side of the field to the right side, lining up just a few yards away from the tight end, “blue 80, set, hut!”
At the snap of the ball, Kam took a step forward until he saw Kieran dropping towards him and he quickly jumped to his right, looking for someone to block before releasing to the flats.
“Goddamn it!” Kam could hear Coach Sutton scream out while the play was still going on, only to turn around and see Kieran swallowed up by the defensive line.
Kam anticipated the offensive line getting a chewing out only for the ire to be directed towards him and yet another mistake of his in pass protection.
“It’s fucking 60 protection!” Coach Sutton screamed at him, “You set to your fucking left and then you release. Why would you be fucking releasing right to where the Y is optioning? You’re bringing your defender into the fucking read area!”
Kam had no rebuttal, only a head nod as he bit into his mouthpiece, his internal frustration growing as well.
“Danny, take his ass out. We need to get some of this fucking passing game installed,” Coach Howell sent in the reliable senior, hitting Kam on the helmet with the playbook as he joined him on the sideline.
“You’re showing us something with your running,” Coach Howell, the team’s running back coach, told Kam, “But if you keep fucking up and getting gassed, I can’t fucking play you, man. You know Danny boy is going to get his, I’m trying to get you out there my boy but goddamn, make it easy on a motherfucker.”
“Yes, sir,” Kam grabbed the nearby water bottle and splashed some water onto his face, enjoying the cooling sensation that ran down his chest, “I was cooking them boys, though.”
“More like slow cooking,” Coach Howell teased.
The speed difference was evident throughout the summer and even more so on the field but when the pads came on, Kam quickly took advantage of the team’s lack of size compared to the competition he was used to up north. While even some of the defensive linemen could beat him in a foot race, none of them stood a chance at tackling him one-on-one in the open field.
They were a program on the rise after winning just one game in their post-COVID season before winning seven games last year in coach Sutton’s second season but still lacked the size. A former college player that interned in the NFL, he ran an advanced offense that helped hide some of the Yellow Jackets’ athletic shortcomings in combination with Coach Caleb’s military background which drilled in the discipline and hard-work mantra that had begun to be ingrained into the program.
Kam didn’t care about any of that, he just wanted the ball.
…
“Ange didn’t let you fuck, nigga. Stop lying!”
Kam couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh as he listened to the banter in the locker room, throwing his shirt over his head. While he hated the early camp practices, it came with some upside as they avoided the scorching sun for the most part and were free to go by the early afternoon.
“You’re just hating on me because you get no bitches,” the skinny receiver retorted, “Ron was there.”
“You was in the room? Y’all a bunch of nasty niggas,” DeAaron quickly pivoted as he pointed towards one of the only white kids on the team.
“Hell nah,” the tight end defended his honor, “I mean, I was in there when they started kissing and shit, but I left that bitch before they got naked or anything like that.”
“How do you know they was naked?” DeAaron’s brother, DeWayne, joined in on the fun between the juvenile sophomores, “It’s the details that get you caught, my boy.”
“How else are you going to fuck a girl?” Ron quickly fired back but it was too late by then as everyone laughed at him and Tyrone.
“I don’t know why you laughing,” Tyrone held his hands up, “We all know y’all be running trains on bitches.”
“That’s my brother, though. You don’t even know this nigga for real,” DeAaron explained.
While they continued debating the etiquette of abominable endeavors, Danny walked over to Kam and dapped him up, “They got you back here with the savages?”
“I don’t mind it,” Kam shrugged, throwing his gym bag over his shoulder, “Shit, sometimes you need to hear some dumb shit after practice to relax a nigga.”
“You can do better than that,” Danny laughed, “We’re about to slide to Big Mike’s crib after this if you trying to come.”
“Nah, I’m good, appreciate it though.”
“You ain’t never trying to hang, bro. I’m telling you, Big Mike got a nice ass crib, going to be some food, some girls. Come fuck with us, bruh.”
Kam finally relented, “Yeah, I’ll slide.”
…
“No disrespect, but how the fuck do you go to Blake?” Kam couldn’t help but ask as he continued to admire the view from the apartment which oversaw downtown and had a clear view to the bay where the cruise ships and yachts were.
“This motherfucker can’t even step in a church,” Danny interrupted Mike as he got ready to answer.
“He’s got jokes,” Mike rolled his eyes, “But yeah, I got kicked out of middle school for smoking, so all the Catholic schools turned me down and then I got kicked out of Tampa Prep for fighting.”
“He punched a teacher,” Danny once again interrupted, “It wasn’t no regular fight.”
“Anyway,” Mike continued, “My parents sent me to Blake on some scared shit straight, thinking I was going to beg to get pulled out, but I fit right in with these motherfuckers.”
Kam simply nodded as he was surprised by Mike’s past given his calm demeanor both on the football field and in their limited interactions outside of it. Like many of the other offensive linemen on the team, he lacked the height of what a college coach would be looking for and wasn’t exactly a finisher on the football field either.
After hitching a ride in his Ford Explorer and seeing his apartment, however, it was clear why he had so many friends on the team.
“Your parents don’t mind this shit?” Kam continued to inquire.
Most of the attendees had gone home already but at its peak, there were at least a dozen people inside of the apartment, partaking in their various vices while most of the football players stuck to water if you were more level-headed like Mike and Danny. Kam opted for a Michelob, which went down like water for all intents and purposes.
“They’re more of the ‘do it at home’ type,” Mike explained, “Besides, they’re in some fucking mountain in Tennessee this week.”
Kam was taken back to when Cory took him camping to Stone Mountain once, just the two of them a few months before he would legally adopt Kam. He was too much of a snot nosed punk at the time to truly appreciate the gesture, but he had grown to appreciate the lengths that Cory went to make him feel like his own, especially after Anna was born.
Kam quickly snapped out of his thoughts as the shapely blonde took a seat on Mike’s lap.
“You promised we’d go tonight,” she pleaded to Mike, who Kam assumed to be her boyfriend based on her behavior throughout the night.
“We’d barely be able to get into any place,” Mike sucked his teeth, “I’m not trying to end up like last time, just wasting our fucking time. Besides, everyone is chilling right now.”
“All the girls want to go,” she stood up, crossing her arms, “If they leave, you know damn well they’re all going to follow us there.”
“She’s got a point,” Danny pointed the top of his water bottle towards Mike.
“Your ass ain’t going nowhere unless Ravie is there,” Mike jabbed his best friend.
“I can get her to come,” the blonde now focused on Danny, deciding to use the ole reliable tactic of ‘divide and conquer’.
“She only fucks with hood dudes now,” Danny initially waved her off, “But I ain’t never turned down a challenge, you feel?”
“Fine,” Mike quickly held up his index finger to tamper her excitement, “Y’all better figure out where the fuck we can get in without a fake, I’m not getting my shit took again.”
“I know a spot,” Kam chimed in, to everyone’s surprise, “I’m not really dressed for Ybor though, so y’all can go without me.”
“I ain’t hearing that shit,” Mike sprung into action, “You’re about my brother’s size, he got a bunch of designer shit he don’t even wear.”
…
“You sure we haven’t met before?”
“I don’t think so,” Kam shrugged as he shook Halie’s hand, Mike’s girlfriend who had been tasked with keeping an eye on while Mike hurried to the bathroom, “I just moved here.”
Danny had vanished earlier in the night to try to meet up with this ‘Ravie’ girl up in SoHo, leaving Kam as the lone remaining male in a group of other girls. By all accounts, they were all spoken for and were just here for the free drinks that came with hanging out with Mike even if their boyfriends weren't tagging along.
“How do you know this spot then?” asked one of the girls.
“I’ve been here a few times,” Kam downplayed it, as he was on first-name basis with most of the staff here.
It was one of the few bars in Ybor where the decibel level made it possible to engage in conversation without screaming and the lowkey vibes allowed you to get drinks without being carded -- if you weren’t acting like a dickhead.
“You won’t believe this shit,” Mike muttered to Kam as he rejoined the group, grabbing his beer from the hi-top table that he had been nursing all night, “I think these motherfuckers were trying to get me for my chain, bruh.”
“Deadass?” Kam turned around to look towards the narrow hallway that led into the bathroom but didn’t see anyone.
“Yeah, he flicked my shit and was asking me how much it cost. Someone else came into the bathroom and he just walked out. Weird ass nigga.”
“You good?” Kam asked Mike, who seemed a bit pale from the incident.
“It’s time for us to get going anyway,” he finished off his beer before motioning towards his girlfriend who had wandered over to the communal table with the Jenga pieces, “We’re about to head out!”
“Already?” she briefly complained before finishing her drink as well, as did the rest of her friends.
Kam followed Mike to the bar as he closed out the tab, keeping an eye out for anyone moving funny. Kam wasn’t used to being on the other side of the coin, ironically at the same bar where they had stolen many wallets and purses.
With the tab closed, the group exited the establishment only to run into a familiar face.
“Aw, shit. He’s with you?” Johnny exclaimed, pointing towards Mike.
Mike nearly shat himself as Johnny dapped Kam up, bringing him in for a big hug, “Ayo, Marcus!”
Kam hadn’t noticed that Marcus was leaning on the wall just a few paces away, enjoying a cigarette. A smile lit up his face as he put it away and started walking towards Kam, eyeing the rest of the group before dapping him up.
“Jersey went and got Hollywood on us,” Marcus touched the collar of Kam's Versace shirt before continuing to size up Hailey, “I don’t blame you though, goddamn.”
“What y’all niggas doing here?” Kam awkwardly laughed as the rest of the group remained firmly behind him, unsure what to do.
“Nigga, what you doing here?” Marcus reversed the question, “Showing these good folks a good time?”
“Almost got them booked for they shit,” Johnny said with an aggressive tone as he mean-mugged Mike for a moment before flashing a smile, “All good, big dog. I ain’t know you was with my man, just a misunderstanding.”
“It’s straight,” Mike felt compelled to say something, even with the big lump in his throat.
“Where y’all headed to next? Let us buy y’all a round, on account of my partna here,” Marcus playfully shoved Johnny, “Can’t bring this motherfucker nowhere, Jers.”
“We were heading out actually,” Mike quickly replied, “Thanks for the offer, though.”
“Come on, babe. Let’s just get one drink, they’re buying anyway.”
“We’re going home,” Mike reiterated to Hailey, whose face started to fill red, “Maybe some other time?”
“I’ll catch up to you later,” Kam dapped Mike up, partially embarrassed over what had happened in the bathroom and wanting to avoid the awkward car ride. He didn’t want them dropping him off in front of his dad’s apartment either, not after being at Mike’s nice ass apartment all day.
“For sure,” Mike said softly before disappearing into the street with the rest of his group.
“We getting fucked up tonight or you going to bitch about having practice tomorrow again?” Marcus put his arms around Kam.
“Ain’t nobody bitching,” it didn’t take long for Kam to decide, “Where we at with it?”
-
Captain Canada
- Posts: 4997
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
Requiem for a Broken Dream.
This dude just keeps fumbling a good thing he got going playing with these street dudes. Damn shame. I foresee it biting him in the ass.
Requiem for a Broken Dream.
Just read through. Great start. Invested in seeing if Kam can toe the line long enough to get offers.