Excerpt from One on One

Featured in Love Won't Let Me Wait

Chapter 3


Lost in his thoughts as he shot baskets, at first Marcus didn’t notice the young woman standing at the fence at the edge of the court watching him. When he did see her, she smiled at him.

 
“Wanna play some one on one?” she asked.

She was definitely cute, a light-skinned sister with dark auburn hair cut short, dressed in matching gray gym shorts and tee-shirt with Monmouth University emblazoned across the chest in maroon letters.

 

He smiled back at her. “Can you play?”

 

She hopped over the fence effortlessly, with the grace and athleticism of a cat. “One way to find out,” she answered.

He checked the sister out as she approached. She was tall and on the slim side without being skinny, with long golden legs that were nicely toned without being muscular. He liked her legs. And as she got closer he saw that she was actually very pretty. And there was something about her…

“Shoot for first out?” she asked.

"That’s fine.”

“It’s your ball so you shoot first,” she said.

Marcus dribbled to the foul line.

“Oh no,” she smiled, “This is a grown folks game.” She pointed to the top of the key.

 

“No problem,” he said, taking three steps back. He took his shot, a little too quickly. The ball rattled in the rim and came out.

She scooped up the rebound. “Nice try,” she said. She took his place at the top of the key, dribbled a few times to get a feel for the ball and took her shot. He observed that her jumper had perfect form. The ball arced high and dropped through the hoop.

He retrieved the ball. “Nice shot,” he said. “I guess you’ve played before.”

“I play at school,” she said.

“You play for Monmouth?”

“Yep.” She smiled again. “Are you scared now?”

“Not even.” He liked her cockiness. She reminded him of the friends he played with when he was a teenager. “Play to fifteen?” he asked.

“That’s cool,” she answered.

“Make it take it?”

“But of course.”

“Win by two?”

“Nah, one point is still a win,” she said. “Makes things more exciting.”

He passed her the ball. “Okay, let’s do this.”

She dribbled to her right, then executed a blinding crossover and drove left. Marcus slid to his right, trying to stay between her and the basket. She took a hard step toward the hoop and he went for the fake. Before he could recover she pulled up and shot a ten-foot jumper.

 
He turned and broke for the basket to grab the rebound. There was no point to it; the ball banked sweetly off the board and through the hoop.

“Nice shot,” he said, and flipped the ball back to her. She didn’t answer. She looked focused now. All right then, Marcus thought, time to get serious.

This time he gave her a little more room. She drove right for real this time. He stayed with her, and closed and jumped with her as she elevated for her shot. Damn, she had some hops. He wasn’t even close to blocking her fade away jumper. But this time her shot bounced off the rim, and he beat her to the boards to grab the rebound.

 
Marcus dribbled out past the foul line and began his attack, driving hard to his right. She stayed with him, but he faked a pull up and she took the bait, and he drove around her for an uncontested lay up.

Fifteen minutes later he was winning six to five, but was starting to wish he hadn’t burned up so much energy shooting around before she showed up. He was definitely sucking wind. She was sweating but wasn’t breathing hard at all.

She reached ten first, and then was up eleven to ten and had the ball out of bounds. Marcus tried to hide the fact that he was near exhaustion.

On her next shot she took a jumper from the top of the key and missed. The rebound was a long one. He grabbed it and broke for the hoop. She was too far away and couldn’t react fast enough to contest his shot. He scored, and the game was tied at eleven.

 

“Nice,” she said. “I see you still have that speed.”

Marcus thought she meant that he hadn’t slowed down much since they started playing. “Believe me, I’m tired as hell,” he said.

“I meant you’re as quick as you were back in the day.”

Her comment made him pause. “Do I know you?”

She either ignored or didn’t hear his question. Before passing him the ball she said, “Wanna make things interesting?”

Marcus was thankful for the break. He hadn’t been this tired in a while. “How so?”

 

“A little bet. The winner has to buy lunch at The Windmill,” she offered.

The Windmill. That place had the best foot-long hotdogs in the world. “Okay, it’s a bet,” he said.

She passed him the ball and then stuck to him like glue. For the moment he was too tired to try to make a move, so he tried to get physical – tried to back her into the basket. She stood her ground, and he felt her body pressed up against his backside, refusing to give an inch.

 
He dribbled in place longer than he needed to. She was feeling kind of good and he was enjoying the contact. But he didn’t want to overdue it and piss her off so he tried again to back her up. When he bumped her she lost her balance, but instead of letting him get free to take a shot she wrapped her arms around his waist and held on, laughing.

Clutching the front of his tee-shirt and leaning on his back and still laughing she said, “Who do you think you are, Shaq? That’s an offensive foul! You used to be a finesse player.”

He stopped dribbling and turned to face her. He repeated his previous question: “Do I know you?”

 

She smiled coyly at him. “I don’t know…do you?”

“What’s your name?” he asked.

 

She swiped at the ball, trying to knock it out of his hands. “C’mon, let’s play.”

He snatched it out of her reach. “No, no - hold up. Seriously, do we know each other?” Marcus studied her face. There definitely was something about her, something vaguely familiar. But if she was in college now that meant she was several years younger than he was. He couldn’t think how he might know her.

She straightened up. Her sweat-soaked tee-shirt clung to her chest, outlining the swell of her young womanhood. Marcus forced his eyes up to her face.

“You don’t remember me?” she asked. “That’s no surprise. I guess some things never change.”

 

“Okay, so then tell me your name,” he said.

She smiled at him - a very cute smile. “Are we gonna finish this game or not?”

 

“Not until you tell me your name.” He could be as stubborn as her.

“I’ll make you a deal,” she said. “I’ll give you a clue. If you figure it out, I’ll buy lunch. How’s that?”

 

“Okay, let’s have it.”

“Number two,” she said.

 

“What?”

“That’s your clue - Number two.”

Marcus frowned. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“If you weren’t suffering from Alzheimer’s it would make sense,” she teased.

 

“Ha-ha. C’mon, give me another clue.”

“Okay, old man - Number two is a type of pencil. That’s all I’m giving you. If you can’t figure it out you’re buying me lunch.”

 

He thought about it. Number two…a pencil. Suddenly his mind flashed back to his days as a teenager on the basketball court at Liberty Street School…playing with his buddies Jerry, Mitch, Kevin, Scotty…the people hanging out watching them play after school and during the summer…Scotty was always complaining because both his parents worked and he had to watch his little sister, and had to take her with him everywhere he went. She was one of the kids always watching them play. She was this skinny, gangly little light-skinned girl with a mop of red hair. Marcus used to tease her…tell her she looked like a Number two pencil…

 

Marcus looked at her now with recognition. “You’re Scotty Anderson’s little sister - Lana!”

She laughed. “At last the light bulb comes on.”

 

“Man, how’re you doing?” he asked. “I haven’t seen you since you were a little girl. C’mere…”

He opened his arms and they came together in a friendly hug. When they parted he noticed that Lana wore an odd smile and her face was flushed.

 

“Um, so how’s Scotty doing? Is he still around?” he asked, trying to break the moment of awkwardness.

 
“Oh, he’s in Georgia, married with a couple of little boys,” Lana answered. She ran her fingers through her hair as if she were trying to brush away the moment of tension.

“Scotty has kids? Man, who would have thought. He used to hate having to drag you around, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember,” she said. “But I liked hanging with him, especially when he was hanging with you guys.”

Marcus noticed that Lana still looked uncomfortable. All of a sudden she had trouble looking him in the eye.

 
Then, with what seemed a mighty struggle she said, “You know, I used to have the biggest crush on you.”

He didn’t know what to say. She was talking about back in the day, when he was a teenager and she was just a grade school kid. Now he was uncomfortable.

With her eyes focused on something off in the distance she said, “So Marcus, are you married or anything?”

“Nah, I’m not married. And as for the ‘anything,’ well, I’m about five minutes away from a major breakup.”

She looked directly at him now. “What’s that mean?”

Marcus looked at his wrist, feigning looking at an invisible watch. “Well, let’s see…right now it’s about eleven o’clock on Saturday morning. I’ve been away from home for about eighteen hours. So I’d guess that right about now, the woman I’ve been involved with for the past few years has her legs up over the shoulders of the dude she’s been screwing behind my back.”

“Dang Marcus, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be. I’m glad I found out now, before it’s too late. When I sell Aunt Mary’s house I’m gonna dump her faster than yesterday’s trash.”

“Well, at least you don’t seem too broken up about it.”

“Nah, I’m more mad than anything. I think this happening made me realize that my feelings for her weren’t as serious as I thought, so I guess it’s a blessing.”

“I’m glad you’re not hurting, Marcus.”

“Thanks Lana, but it’s all good.” He read her face. Even though they really didn’t know each other she seemed genuinely concerned about him. Her concern touched him. Now he wanted to put her at ease. “Well, life isn’t always easy,” he said, “And like I said, I’m just thankful I found out now rather than later.”

Lana wiped her brow with the bottom of her shirt. With her eyes momentarily covered Marcus used the opportunity to steal a glance at her exposed midsection. Her flat stomach glistened with perspiration. It had definition, but wasn’t too muscular; athletic but feminine. He liked that. She had a nice flair to her hips too. She wasn’t as slim as he’d first thought. He liked that too. As she lowered her shirt he raised his eyes to meet hers.

 
“So you didn’t really love her?” she asked.

 
For someone who barely knew him, Lana seemed awfully interested in his personal life. But he wasn’t offended.

 
“I thought I did, but right now all I feel for her is disgust,” he answered. “For the few days that I was there before I came up here I could hardly stand to look at her.” He turned and shot the ball at the basket and missed. The ball clanged off the rim and bounced away.

 
Lana ran after the ball and snagged it at the free throw line. She stood at the line and dribbled a few times, preparing to shoot. “Yeah well, I just think if you’re going to be in a relationship then you ought to be in it for real,” she said. “If you want to mess around, then stay single. And if you’re so unhappy in a relationship that you want to run to somebody else, then get out of the mess you’re in first. It’s not that complicated.”

Marcus agreed with Lana one hundred percent. As he watched her preparing to shoot a free throw, he realized that there was something about her, something that gave him a good feeling. It wasn’t just the words she spoke. As he looked at her he could see that little girl she used to be, and again he got that sense of being home, and of how it was growing up here…the pleasant memories.

 

Lana gave him a good, comfortable feeling that was in stark contrast to the dark mood he’d been in for the past few days around Darleen. Being around Lana made his troubles in Virginia seem distant and more bearable - almost unimportant. Just as entering his aunt’s house had brought back a rush of pleasant memories, being around Lana was giving him that same feeling of comfort - the feeling that he was where he belonged.

She shot her free throw and missed badly to the right.

 

“Dang, that was off,” she said, and ran after the ball.

“Now who’s playing like Shaq?” he laughed.

Lana grabbed the ball just outside the lane, dribbled twice and elevated, pushing off on her left foot, executing a perfect hook shot. The ball arched high and swished through the hoop without touching the rim.

“Man, nice shot!” Marcus said.

Lana picked up the ball and dribbled toward him, smiling. “You taught me that shot, remember?”

 

“I did?”

“Yep, you did. I was playing ball with some kids one day and I was getting killed. Every time I tried to shoot some boy would block my shot. You came by and were watching my terrible game. I was so embarrassed that you were watching me play, and because you were watching I played even worse…”

 

“Oh, sorry -”

“…So of course my team lost. I was so devastated that you saw me lose. I sat against the side of the school building and tried not to cry. But then you came over. I figured you’d start teasing me, but you got me up, took me over to the other basket and told me you were going to teach me a shot that nobody could block. You taught me how to shoot the sky hook.”

“Looks like you’ve got it down pretty well,” Marcus said.

“Yeah, I practiced that shot until I could make it in my sleep. Every time I took it, it was like wearing a wedding ring. I know the other kids had to get tired of me bragging that Marcus Brooks taught me that shot.”

“A wedding ring?”

“Yep. It was like my connection to you.”

“Oh, right, because you used to have a crush.”

“Did I say that?” She was standing right in front of him now, dribbling the ball in place.

 

“Yes, you did.”

“I said I used to have a crush on you?”

 

He caught her emphasis on the word ‘used.’ A thrill of excitement shivered in his stomach. Did Lana still have a thing for him?

 
She was watching him, a slight smile playing at the corners of her mouth and a challenging glint in her eyes. He decided to take a chance. “So are you single?” he asked.

 

Her smile broadened. “Why do you want to know?”

That smile was contagious. He struggled to keep himself from grinning like an idiot. “Maybe I could teach you something besides a hook shot.”

 

Her smile faded a little. Okay, maybe that was a bit too much. “Hey Lana, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get out of line.”

She stared at him for a moment. He was about to apologize again, but she stepped closer and kissed him on the mouth.

The kiss was brief, just a fleeting contact, but still Marcus felt as if a bolt of electricity had shot through his system. Lana took a step back and he stood watching her, stunned.

The color rose and spread in her golden cheeks. It brought to mind an image of ripe peaches.

“I’m sorry Marcus,” she stammered, growing redder by the second. “You were standing there looking all cute and embarrassed - kind of irresistible, you know -”

“Sort of like you’re looking right now?” he asked.

 

Before she could respond he stepped to her and took her in his arms. She dropped the basketball and threw her arms around his neck.

Their kisses began as quick, hesitant pecks as they gazed at each other with the same question in their eyes. The question could not take form in words; it was deeper than that. The answer came as their kisses grew longer and deeper, more urgent. They closed their eyes and became lost in that answer.

 
Marcus was amazed at the tenderness of her lips, and at the soft femininity of her body pressed against his. For long, sweet moments he was completely lost in the sensation of her.

Then the moment was gone and the world swam back into focus. They parted; their lips and their bodies. She was just inches away from him but it felt like miles, and he immediately missed being close to her, missed that warm intimacy. He saw in her eyes that she felt the same thing. He stepped to her again.

“Wait Marcus, you’re just getting out of a relationship,” she stammered.

He kissed her again, softly.

“We really don’t know each other,” she whispered against his lips.

 

He kissed her again.

“We live so far apart -”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” he asked.

She considered for a moment, then placed her arms back around his neck and gave in.

The world faded away again.

 

When at last they came back to earth they backed away from each other.

“Whew,” she smiled.

 

“Yeah, for real,” he concurred.

And then he was aware that there was no way to hide the effect she’d had on him. Even wearing supporting briefs under his shorts, his tumescence was as obvious as the brilliant sun overhead.

He was more embarrassed than he’d been in years when she glanced down at the front of his shorts.

Damn, there was no way to play this off gracefully.

 

Lana smiled and said, “That reminds me – I lost the bet. I’m supposed to buy the hotdogs.”

“Ha-ha. Do you wanna get cleaned up first?’

 

Her eyes were still locked on the front of his shorts. Now it was his turn to blush.

“Okay,” she answered. “Did you drive over here?”

 

“No, I walked. It’s only a few blocks.”

“Then I’ll have to give you a ride,” she said. She looked up at his face now. Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “I wouldn’t want you to get arrested for walking around with a loaded weapon.”

 

“Oh, now you’ve got jokes.”

“Hey man, I’m just trying to help you out,” she grinned as her eyes dropped back to the front of his shorts.

 

Marcus went to the fence to get his basketball. He was thankful for the excuse to escape her mirthful gaze.

“My car’s over there,” she said, pointing across the street. “It’s small - I hope we can squeeze all that baggage you’re carrying into it.”

“So what, you’re studying to be a comedian in college?”

“No man, I’m just saying, you’ve got a lot of luggage there.”

“Damn, what happened to that shy little girl I used to know?”

Lana smiled at him, and he felt a million butterflies flutter in his stomach.

 

“That little girl has grown up,” she said.

 

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