On The Rebound

by Alexandra Warren

  “It was good. Dre was there,” I told her, the mention making Bleu’s nose wrinkle a bit when she questioned, “Dre was at the Trojans facilities instead of being at home with his newborn?”

  “Selena wanted him to be there,” I explained, that tidbit making her giggle again as I moved back towards the living room and discovered a stack of folded cardboard. “Baby, what’s with all these boxes? You order yourself some early birthday gifts or somethin’?”

  “Actually... they’re for my stuff,” she answered, that response making me frown when I repeated, “Your stuff?”

  “Yeah,” she nodded as she joined me in the living room to explain, “There’s no way in hell I’d be able to fit the last two months in a suitcase, so I figured I’d just ship the bulk of it instead.”

  The way she was speaking about it all so casually, you would’ve thought we’d already had a whole conversation about how she was going to get her stuff back to New York. But the fact that we hadn’t only made the whole thing that much more troublesome when I finally asked, “Bleu, what’s going on?”

  Moving to stand in front of me, she wrapped her arms around my waist and responded, “Babe, come on. We’ve talked about me going back home plenty of times.”

  “I mean, yeah. But you ain’t never had actual boxes,” I told her before asking, “Is this about the spaghetti?”

  “What? No,” she sighed. “I just think it might be time for me to finally let you have your space back.”

  Shaking my head, I assured her, “Nah, I’m good. Don’t even need it. Matter of fact, you want some more? Cause I can make some more for you.”

  I was deadass serious about that. But Bleu giggled anyway as she pulled us over to the couch, the fact that she even wanted us to sit down making it clear that something heavy was about to come as she grabbed my hand to say, “Babe, listen. Having all this mostly undivided time with you has been… incredible. But I also haven’t seen the inside of my apartment in literal months. It’s time for me to get back to New York.”

  “Okay, so we can just visit for the weekend and come right back to quarantine then,” I suggested. Though Bleu was just as quick with a rebuttal when she asked, “A weekend in the apartment I’ve been treating like storage as if East Coast rent is anywhere near cheap? I don’t think so.”

  “If it’s a money thing, you know I’m good for it.”

  “It’s not a money thing, Kage,” she responded with a shake of her head.

  “Is it the arguments? Cause I mean, even the tightest couples fight a little bit.”

  With a grin, Bleu stood up to head back to the kitchen as she answered, “Bickering over silly stuff actually made this whole thing feel very real for me, and I’m grateful because this shit was honestly starting to seem like some sort of fairytale.”

  Hearing the word “fairytale” in reference to our situation only made her decision that much more confusing to me as I followed her to the kitchen and asked, “So why you gotta leave then, Bleu?”

  “Kage, you knew from the very beginning that I wasn’t staying here forever. So why are you acting like this?”

  “Because I love you, that’s why,” I blurted, Bleu’s hand pausing mid-stir as she damn near whispered, “You what?”

  Now that it was out in the open, I knew there was no going back. And really, I didn’t want to, instead leaning into it as I turned her around at the stove so that I could tell her directly to her face, “I said I love you, Bleu. I’m in love with you. And I don’t want you to leave.”

  The way she held my stare had my heart racing, feeling vulnerable as hell as I watched her lips start to pout before she sang, “Aww, babe. I don’t know what to say.”

  Pulling her against me, I teased, “I mean, no pressure. But I pretty much threw you a perfect alley-oop, so…”

  Giggling, she tilted her head back to find my eyes so that she could tell me, “I love you too, Kage. And I’ve loved every second of being here with you. But I still need to go home. At least for a little while.”

  “I told you I’m good for the weekend,” I reminded her, Bleu turning back towards the stove as she tossed over her shoulder, “More than a weekend, Kage.”

  “Two weeks?” I asked right against her ear, pressing a kiss there that made her giggle again as she groaned, “Babe, stop. And besides, it’s not like I’m packing up my shit and leaving tomorrow.”

  Now that I knew that, I lowkey felt silly for reacting so strongly, a smirk on my face as I held her from behind to ask, “Why you ain’t say that from the beginning?”

  “You mean, before you told me you loved me?” she questioned teasingly, clearly amused by my profession that I had no problem doubling down on when I told her, “Baby, you’ve been known how I feel about you. The words are just the words.”

  “And those particular words mean things,” she insisted. “Things that have me wanting to press pause on dinner so you can back them up with some immediate action.”

  Just like that, we were back to our usual vibes, my smirk remaining as Bleu started turning off all the burners in preparation for what was to come. And even though I still wasn’t sure what things would be like whenever Bleu decided to go back to New York for real, for now I was going to enjoy every second I still had with her right here in front of me, grinning hard as hell when I responded, “In that case, you ain’t said nothin’ but a word.”

  Nineteen

  It felt weird being back in my apartment.

  There was no miscellaneous noise from Kage, no Poochie sitting at my feet begging me to take her for a walk, no meals that I’d picked up from Ms. Jeanine’s waiting for me in the fridge. And there was hardly enough space for all the shit I’d accumulated during my time spent in Nashville, the fact that Kage had managed to talk me into staying a week past my initial leave date only making my storage situation even more ridiculous as I struggled to find room for everything he’d tried to bribe me into staying longer with.

  I was grateful, though.

  Grateful to have someone who loved my dirty drawers and also loved to spoil me with clean ones. Grateful to have established such a tight bond that made me confident we’d be able to handle the distance. Grateful to have gotten past my initial reservations about dating an athlete since that had opened me to being able to experience something so incredibly beautiful with Kage. And most importantly, I was grateful that we’d both been staying in good health through all the craziness of the virus, that grim reminder of how fleeting life could be only making me appreciate what I had even more.

  Another thing I was grateful for was the fact that work was starting to pick back up now that plans for the NBA Bubble had officially been announced meaning there was actually something new and sports-related for me to talk about. And that was how I ended up on a Zoom call with the network about their plans for media coverage, completely caught off-guard when my boss asked, “Bleu, how would you feel about us sending you to the Bubble?”

  My eyebrows shot up as I responded, "Oh, wow. I mean, ummm... I’d be happy to go. But how exactly would that work?”

  “Well, the way the campus down in Orlando is being set up allows for an allotted number of media members to live there full-time, and we want you on-site as one of our correspondents. We’ll have you doing your usual sideline work, of course. But we’re thinking about also having you do some exclusive interviews as well as just some general behind the scenes coverage that makes viewers feel like they really know what’s going on with their favorite players even when they're not on the court.”

  Nodding along, I asked, “So basically, instead of Beyond the Bench with Bleu Taylor, you want me to give the people... Inside the Bubble with Bleu Taylor?”

  Once those words left my lips, I realized how good they sounded together, everyone on the call looking just as pleased as I was with myself as one of the executive producers commented, “I think you might’ve just talked yourself into a vlog series.”

  “What?”

  Taking lead of
the conversation, the E.P. said, “I’m spitballing here, but I’m thinking weekly ten to fifteen-minute episodes giving a behind the scenes look at everything happening on the NBA Bubble Campus. You know, taking viewers inside the practices and games you attend, showing them all there is for players to do, giving a firsthand account of your experience as a media member…”

  The more he talked, the more intrigued I became. Though for clarity purposes, I asked, “So is this supposed to be about me or about the players?”

  “Both,” he answered. “But it’ll all be through your lens, following you from the second you leave your apartment to head down to Orlando until the moment the championship champagne is popped.”

  Everyone on the call seemed thrilled with that idea. And honestly, I was too, giving a legitimately awed, “Wow. That sounds like a lot of fun, actually. I’m excited. Thank you for the opportunity.”

  “Great,” my boss responded. “We’ll have you two nail down all the details over the next few weeks as well as get Bleu going with all of the different virus testing protocols required for her to be able to enter campus in early July.”

  “Sounds great,” I told them as the call moved on to another topic of discussion. But I could hardly even pay attention now that the wheels were turning in my head regarding what me going to the Bubble meant professionally, and how excited Kage would be, and how many outfits I needed to pack, and what I wanted my vlog series to look like…

  There was so much to think about. But that only made me more excited by the time the call was ended when I hit up Katianna to tell her the good news.

  “Guess who’s going to Orlando next month?”

  “Mickey Mouse’s Mistress?”

  “What? No,” I laughed. “The network is sending me to the NBA Bubble to work the sidelines and film my very own vlog series, Inside the Bubble with Bleu Taylor.”

  Something about saying it out loud made me grin extra hard as Katianna responded, “That’s dope, Bleu. Congratulations. Much deserved.”

  “Right? I’m super excited.”

  “Yeah, I bet A.S.D. is too since that means he won’t be sitting in the Bubble with blue balls for three to four months,” Katianna joked, the mention of Kage only making me that much more excited about the whole thing even as I told her, “You’re actually the first person I’ve shared the news with. And I think I might keep it that way.”

  “What? Why? I mean, I know the campus is big, but it’s not like you’ll be able to hide from him the entire time.”

  Shaking my head like she could see me, I responded, “Not like that, Kat. I just think it would be a fun surprise.”

  “Oh. In that case, I guess it’s a cute idea or whatever,” she groaned, making me chuckle as I sighed, “Anyway. How’s all your Nymphs shit going?”

  At that, she turned into the excited one when she answered, “I actually think I might’ve solved my little roster problem. Do you remember Micaiah Kennedy?”

  Squinting as if that would help a face come to mind, I told her, “The name sounds vaguely familiar.”

  “She’s a teeny bit older than you, so maybe you don’t. But she was super good in college. Somehow got skipped over by the W, so she went overseas to ball and has been a complete monster at the small forward position in the Euroleague. She’s also Zeb’s little sister.”

  The mention of Zeb was the thing that made it click, remembering the time she’d popped up in one of his sibling pictures on Instagram as I responded, “Ahh, now I know who you’re talking about. You’re thinking about signing her?”

  “Yeah, I’ve already been in talks with her agent, and I think we’ll be able to work something out for the season.”

  Knowing how stressed out Kat had been about the whole thing, I was genuinely excited when I replied, “That’s what’s up. But wait. You said she’s older than me but got skipped over by the W initially. So this will technically be her rookie year?”

  “Yes, sports reporter Bleu. Set the interview up already,” Katianna groaned, the way she’d read my mind making me chuckle until she went on to say, “And speaking of someone being older… what are you doing for your birthday?”

  “Flattening the curve,” I answered dryly, Katianna responding with a laugh as I told her, “Actually, I think I’ve decided to postpone turning thirty until next year.”

  That only made her laugh harder when she said, “Good call.”

  “Nah, I’ve been thinking of doing something virtually,” I shared, that plan still being worked out in my head as Katianna inquired, “Like strippers, but on Zoom?”

  “What? No. Wait. They do that?” I asked, genuinely curious about the logistics even as I shook my head and told her, “But no, seriously. I was thinking of some kinda like, birthday shots and shoutouts situation on Instagram Live. You know, have all of my favorite people come on, make them take a shot with me, then they can drunkenly tell the world how great of a person I am.”

  “I was with you at shots, but you almost lost me with that other shit,” Katianna joked, making me roll my eyes as she said, “I’m kidding. Count me in. But don’t be surprised when all that telling the world how great you are somehow turns into a roast.”

  Truthfully, I wouldn’t have expected anything less from my friends and family. And by the time the big day came, I was actually looking forward to all their clownin’, giddy from all the birthday love I’d already been receiving as I got my lighting and phone all set-up for best video quality, then grabbed a shot glass and the bottle of Clase Azul Tequila I’d be fueling myself with for however long this lasted.

  With the virus still rolling like a big shot, we had nothing but time. And even though I’d only advertised the event with a little flier on my Instagram, it was no surprise that there were a bunch of bored people sitting around waiting for me to go live, immediately filling the comments with Happy Birthdays until I got a “join request” actually worth accepting.

  “Bleu Taylor, what’s good? Happy Dirty Thirty to ya.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Gordon,” I responded cheesily, Hunter trying to be all suave as he held the phone at a low angle and scrubbed a hand down his quarantine beard when he mentioned, “You know I would’ve been in there if you’d had an event, so I just wanted to come on and show you some love right quick.”

  “I appreciate it,” I told him before getting to the real point of this whole thing. “Now what you got over there to drink?”

  Reaching to grab an almost empty bottle, he answered, “All I had left was this little bit of Crown, so that’s what I’m on. What you on?”

  “Trendy tequila,” I responded as I held up the blue and white bottle in the screen before removing the top to pour myself a shot as Hunter insisted, “I owe you a bottle then.”

  Since this was the first one, I was excited as I held my shot glass to the camera while Hunter did the same with his liquor before mentioning, “Oh. And to all y’all in the comments claiming we’re a couple and whatnot, Bleu is just my homegirl. One of the coolest in the biz, real shit.”

  Honestly, I’d planned to just ignore it. But I was glad he’d chosen to clear the air, a smirk on my face as I said, “You know what? I’ll drink to that.”

  After we took our shots, we chatted it up a little bit about what he thought was going to happen with the upcoming NFL season. And with another birthday wish, it was on to the next, the biggest grin on my face as the new request connected and I saw my parents on the screen.

  “Happy Birthday, Bleu Bleu! Ooh, you look so cute!” my mother squealed, compliments from her always feeling like a warm hug as I blushed when I responded, “Thank you, Mama.”

  “Now what are we drinkin’?” my dad asked, making me laugh even as I groaned, “Daddy…”

  “What? Ain’t that why we’re on here?”

  “Well, yeah. But you still have to like, say something nice about me,” I told him, watching as he took a real minute to give it some thought only to land on, “Uhh… you’re my daughter. Cheers!”

/>   Shaking my head, I poured myself a fresh shot as my parents grabbed their already-filled ones, the three of us holding our glasses in the air as my father said, “Nah, I’m just playin’. Happy Birthday to my favorite baby girl. With your old ass.”

  Giggling, I tossed my shot back before telling him, “If I’m old, that means you’re old too!”

  “Never old. Just seasoned,” he bragged, making me roll my eyes as my mother started squinting at the screen.

  “I know all these little girls in the comments talking about Bleu’s daddy is fine better recognize,” she grumbled, grabbing my father’s beard to say, “This seat is taken.”

  “Eww. Goodbye,” I giggled, half-amused and half-grossed out as I ended the Live with them and clicked on the next request from the latest viral TikTok sensation.

  “Can you see me, Miss. Bleu?”

  Smiling, I answered, “I can see you, Ms. J. Hey Coach Joe.”

  “Happy Birthday, Bleu,” he responded from the background, holding up a beer as a tribute that I thanked him for as Ms. Jeanine said, “Now I know you wanted us to come on here and take a shot of liquor, but I feel like dancing. You gonna dance with me?”

  “I don’t know, Ms. J. Cause you’re probably gonna show me up,” I admitted, Ms. Jeanine giving a wave of her hand to say, “Well that’s a given, but you can still shake ya ass and watch ya self.”

  Laughing, I agreed, “Alright, put on some music then,” standing up to push the chair I was sitting in out of the way to create more space. And just as I came back into the camera’s view, I heard the opening to “It’s Your Birthday” by Luke, her song choice making me crack up laughing as I started hitting a little groove with Ms. J cheering me on.

  Something about her saying, “Go Miss. Bleu, it’s ya birthday,” hit in a special place as I really started getting into it with Ms. Jeanine breaking it down on the other half of the screen. But when she started twerking on Coach Joe, I lost it, torn between laughing and hyping her up until she came back in direct view of the camera to sing, “Happy Birthday, gorgeous. We love you. Come on back to Nashville and see us as soon as all this craziness lets up a bit, alright?”