WHY'S HE HERE?

After dinner, I stepped outside for air…also to escape that woman and her never faltering smile.

The porch was cold and the air smelled like rain…

“Ha.” I exhale. “I love this.” I leaned against the railing, closed my eyes and tried so hard to breathe.

“This isn't happening.” I thought. “This isn't real.” I mumbled. “I got hit in the head and I'm hallucinating.” I kept my eyes closed…. still trying.

“I'm going to wake up tomorrow in my dorm, and everything will be normal, and Kaelen Blackwood will just be some guy I hate from a rival team.”

But deep down, I know it's not true and I know this sick reality is real.

I can still smell the cinnamon, still hear Yvette's laugh and still see Kaelen's smirk.

“Ugh.”

And I know… with this feeling that sits heavy in my chest… that nothing is ever going to be the same.

The door opened behind me but I didn't turn around. I don't even have to… I already know who it is because I can feel him but not in a weird way but a rather cryptic way. 

The air changes when he's near… like it gets heavier and hotter. Or it's just harder to breathe.

"Nice night," Kaelen says but I don't answer.

He walks up beside me and leans against the railing…a little too close. His arm brushes mine and I feel it…electricity, heat, or something at least. All I know it, it's not normal.

"So," he says. "Stepbrothers."

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't act like this is normal, don't act like we're friends and don't you dare act like this is okay."

He's quiet for a moment, then he laughs. Like I'm some shitty joke.

"I never said it was okay," he struggled to stop laughing. "I just said it was happening."

I turn to look at him and he's already watching me. Those eyes…those dark, deep balls full of something I can't read.

"Why are you here?" I ask. "Why did your mother have to marry my father? Out of all the people in the world—"

"You think I chose this?" His voice sharpens. "You think I wanted my mother to marry some random guy with a son who hates me?"

"You don't know me."

"I know enough."

I stepped closer but I didn't mean to. My body just moves before my brain can stop it. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

He doesn't back down…I don't think he ever does. He just looks at me, that smirk still playing on his lips, and says, 

"It means I know you've been watching me, little freak. I know you've been thinking about me and I know you've been replaying that game in your head for two years, trying to figure out how to beat me."

My heart stops because what the hell?

"I know," he continues, stepping closer, "that you hate me because I'm better than you and I know that it eats you."

"You don't know anything."

"Don't I?"

He's so close now…it's inches away. I can see the stubble on his jaw, the way his chest rises and falls and the way his eyes drop to my mouth…just for a second before meeting my gaze again.

"You don't know anything about me," I repeat.

His smile fades and for the first time, something real flickers in his eyes…something raw.

"Maybe not," he says. "But I want to."

The words hang between us.

“Huh?”

I don't know what to say…I don't know what to feel. I just stand there, frozen, as the rain starts to fall and the world shrinks to just the two of us…two men who should be enemies, who should be strangers, who should be anything but…whatever the fuck this is.

“I should know my stepbrother.”

"We should go inside." I say finally.

"Yeah." he says but he doesn't move and neither do I.

The next morning, I wake up in my dorm and pretend last night didn't happen.

I go to practice, I run drills and I shoot free throws until my arms ache. 

I don't think about him. 

I don't think about his eyes or his voice or the way he said he wanted to know me.

I don't think about any of it. Until Coach Washington calls me into his office.

"Close the door," he says and I do…I don't really have a choice.

He's sitting behind his desk, a folder open in front of him. He's a big man. I'm talking six-seven, built like a refrigerator, with gray creeping into his beard and eyes that miss nothing. I've known him for three years and he's the closest thing I have to a father figure…not that my actual father is much competition.

"You want to tell me what's going on?" he asks.

I frown. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you've been off all practice, missing shots, turning the ball over? You look like someone cooked and ate your dog."

I don't say anything so Coach leans back in his chair.

“I heard about your dad." My jaw tightened. 

“Who told you?"

"Darius. He's worried about you."

"Darius needs to mind his own goddamn business."

"Darius is your best friend, motherfucker. He's supposed to worry." Coach folds his arms. "So? You want to talk about it?"

No. I don't. I don't want to talk about any of it. I don't want to think about my father or Yvette or the wedding or the move and I definitely don't want to think about Kaelen but Coach is looking at me with those eyes…the same ones that see straight through every lie I've ever told and I just know I can't hide.

"My dad is marrying this woman," I say. "And she has a son."

"So you're getting a stepbrother. That's not the end of the world."

"You don't understand. Her son is—" I stop. I can't say it. I can't tell him that her son is the man who's haunted my dreams for two years. I can't tell him that her son is the reason I can't sleep at night.

"Her son is what?" Coach prompts.

"Nothing," I say. "He's just… he's a basketball player. We've played against each other."

Coach's eyebrows rise. 

“Crestview?"

"Yeah."

"The one who blocked your shot at regionals?"

I nod. Coach whistles. "Goddamn that's rough."

"Yeah."

He's quiet for a moment. Then he leans forward, elbows on his desk, eyes locked on mine.

"Listen to me," he says. "I don't know what's going on in your head right now. I don't know what this kid did to you or what you think he's going to do but I know you and I know you're a competitor. I know you don't back down from a challenge."

"He's not a challenge. He's a—"

"He's a rival," Coach interrupts. "That's all he is. And rivals? They make us better. They push us. They force us to be the best versions of ourselves."

I want to argue. I want to tell him that Kaelen isn't just a rival…That he's something else. Something I can't explain but I don't because I don't have the words.

"I'm fine," I say. "I'll figure it out."

Coach studies me for a long moment, then he nods.

"Alright but if you need to talk about anything, my door is open."

"Thanks, Coach." And I leave his office and walk back to the gym. The team is running drills, Darius waves at me and I wave back.

Then I see him.

Standing at the entrance to the gym. Dark skin, sharp jaw and that same smirk.

Kaelen.

He's not supposed to be here. He goes to Crestview, he has his own team…his own gym and his own life.

But he's here and he's watching me…waiting.

And I realize, with a sinking feeling in my gut, that this is just the beginning.