by Lee, India
“Aubrey, what is this?” Damian asked. Aubrey’s eyebrows were raised as she pretended to focus on the road. “Are you trying to set us up or something?” He had been friends with Aubrey for three years now, ever since their managers set them up as dates for the Thierry Marc event, back when Damian was still modeling for his line. Aubrey was an up and coming swimsuit model whose picture was torn from sports magazines and pinned up in men’s bedrooms across the country. She seemed like the appropriate match for a young NBA star, which was why he suspected they were paired to begin with. Aubrey was effortlessly beautiful, remarkably intelligent, and easily one of the kindest people he knew. She was somehow simultaneously the ultimate sexual fantasy and the girl a guy would want to take home to meet the parents. Which was why Damian understood when no one around them, not even his family and closest friends, believed him when he said that the two were just friends. He had recognized that dating Aubrey would be like a relationship jackpot, yet the two never quite clicked that way.
“I’m not… trying to set you guys up,” Aubrey started. “I know you don’t like that. But I did promise her that I’d introduce the two of you and she really is nothing like the media kind of makes her out to be.”
“But she has made a career out of breakup songs and there’s no denying that,” Damian replied. “And she does nothing to hide who the songs are about.”
“I know, but I’m just saying. She’s actually a really cool girl. And she’s currently single. And she likes you.”
“We only just met. Whatever she likes about me, she got from what little she’s seen of me through the media. And we all know how accurate those guys are.” They pulled into the parking lot of Aubrey’s apartment complex and parked in her regular spot. Aubrey stepped out of the car, gesturing for Damian to follow her into the common area where there was a pool.
“You played a great game tonight,” Aubrey said.
“Are we changing the subject?”
“Not quite,” she said as she sprawled out onto an open poolside lounge chair. Damian sat beside her. “I just always thought, if I were a dude and I was in the NBA and I had all this testosterone coursing through me and I just won this incredible game, that the first thing I’d do when I got out of the arena was bring home a bunch of girls.”
“A bunch, huh?” Damian smiled. “That’s the type of guy you’d be?”
“Yep.”
“Sounds about right,” he nodded. “So what are you saying about me then? That I’m weird for not bringing home a bunch of girls?”
“I’m saying you’re weird for not bringing home even one. I mean, I just introduced to you one of the hottest women on this planet and you showed zero interest.”
“I was tired. And I’ve had a lot on my mind,” Damian felt his face heat up. “And what, just because I’m in the NBA means I can’t be monogamous?”
“You’re not even monogamous,” Aubrey challenged. “You’re zero-nogamous.”
“I’m what?” Damian laughed, feeling his momentary anger and embarrassment dissipate.
“You don’t find it kind of hilarious that you have this reputation of being a megastar baller whose dated a third of the Maxim 100 when in reality you’re closer to a chastity ring than you are to a championship ring?”
“Whoa,” Damian exhaled. “Don’t hold back or anything.”
“I think you’re a great guy and I love that you respect women enough not to dick them around just because you’re able to, but I also kind of feel like you’ve been kidding yourself. I know you’re the relationship type and that you want to be with someone special, but it kind of feels like you’re not even trying.”
“That’s not true.” Damian looked out at the empty pool, watching the dark, glassy surface skip under the night sky.
“It kind of is.”
“Well,” he rubbed his chin, trying to think of something to rebuff Aubrey’s insistence. But he was exhausted. His mind was as fatigued as his body. “I think you only want me to date Azura because you secretly love the idea of me being immortalized in the Top Forty as another one of her heartbreakers.”
“That would make my life,” Aubrey nodded. “But contrary to your beliefs, it’s not because I get pleasure out of seeing you unhappy.”
~
Damian sat in the dark of Aubrey’s living room, staring at his phone’s screen and the near empty email that had been saved to his drafts for nearly a year now.
Dear Gemma,
I’m writing because I wanted to say…
He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, just like he wasn’t sure of just about anything lately. He hated the way the beginning of that sentence sounded but he had deleted it and retyped it so many times that he figured he’d just leave it there. There was probably a reason why he kept typing that same thing out, just like there was a reason that he couldn’t seem to throw the message out.
Since she moved back to New York, Damian hadn’t seen Gemma nearly as much as he would have liked. But he was used to it. They had been close friends for nearly six years but the nature of their jobs and their individual relationships limited the time they spent together. They kept in contact through the occasional text message, usually something that one of them saw that reminded them about the other. It took restraint on Damian’s part not to text Gemma every time he saw something that reminded him of her. He had a strange ability to draw thoughts of her from just about anything.
He knew what Aubrey was trying to say to him earlier, he just didn’t want to engage her in that conversation, especially after he caved and did a quick Google search of the rumors that had been circulating about him. The results gave him even more trouble falling asleep than usual, and were now the reason that he was face to face with that unfinished sentence and that unfinished email once again.
The media had it somewhat right – the list of women that he had gone out with in the past couple of years was enviable. But he wasn’t the late-blooming, womanizing heartbreaker they painted him to be – at least not intentionally. When he realized that he was possibly leading on some of his dates, he had decided not to date at all until he was sure of his feelings for someone. But being as unsure of things as he had been lately, it meant putting a complete stop to his love life. It was a jarring realization and unfortunately did nothing to stop the perpetuation of his new image as a womanizer. Damian would still come home to find a late night talk show host making a quick crack at his alleged prowess.
Other than his teammates, Aubrey had been his closest friend in the past couple of years. Everyone else that had once been a big part of his life had moved onto new careers and were all out on the east coast. He had been living on the west coast for half a decade now, but he had yet to feel like it was home. He was always happiest during away games that landed him in a city close enough for an old friend to drop by and visit. In the first year after Gemma moved back, Damian could always count on her and Gavin sitting courtside when he played in New York. But after awhile, with her new fashion line picking up momentum, Gavin began to turn up solo.
Damian wanted to talk to Gemma about his decision of where to play the next season. He had always felt self-sufficient and capable of making his own decisions, but anytime he felt like he actually had to talk something out, his instinct was to turn to Gemma. Besides, everyone else had their own biases and agendas with this decision. His teammates would just want him to stay. His parents would just want him closer to home. Gavin would come at it from a practical angle. Working in the sports industry would definitely lead him to make the best business decision for his old friend. And then there was Aubrey – having been born and raised in Los Angeles, she was a bit biased towards the west coast. Though she never said it overtly, he could feel her hinting at him to play for the Lakers – her own personal favorite team.
But his dream had always been to play for his personal favorite – The New York Knicks. The fact that it was even a possible option should have had him jumping to sign the contract. And as much a
s he wanted to be on the east coast again and in New York with all his old friends, it was that same reason that held him back. He would once again be living in the same city as Gemma for the first time since high school. He imagined how she’d advise him to make the decision. He wondered if she’d at the very least hint that she would want him to be close to her. After all, he would be so close to her that there would be no excuse for him to “not try,” as Aubrey was so fond of accusing him of doing.
Without thinking, he began to delete that half-finished sentence once again.
Dear Gemma,
I’m writing because I wanted…
But he stopped there, staring at the remaining words.
~
“Are you okay, man?” Josh asked, standing in front of Damian in nothing but a towel. Damian had been sitting on the locker room bench, his head propped up on his hands and his elbows propped up on his knees. It was only when Josh asked him the question that he realized how quiet the locker room had gotten. His teammates were all staring at him, all in their varying states of post-game undress. He hadn’t realized how depressing he probably looked, still in his jersey and shorts and sitting like a man who had just gotten kicked to the curb. He had singlehandedly brought down the mood of the entire room.
“Sorry,” Damian said, straightening up. “Trouble sleeping lately.”
“Maybe if you hadn’t gone home with Aubrey, you would’ve gotten some sleep,” Josh replied. His teammates chuckled cautiously. Damian flashed a quick smile, giving them permission to laugh at the joke. He felt bad that everyone had been tiptoeing around him. The last thing he wanted was to be an emotional drag on the team.
“Are you guys all heading out somewhere after this?” Damian asked. It was the longest string of words he had spoken to his teammates in ages. Josh seemed to perk up at the question. They were in New Orleans and despite a slow game that ended in a loss, Damian knew his teammates weren’t about to pass up the chance to party in the city before they left.
“Yeah!” Josh grinned, dropping his towel with the same exclamation as his reply. Damian shook his head with a laugh, leaning away from his happy, naked teammate. “Are you gonna join us?”
“Once you put some pants on,” Damian said. “Yeah, sure, why not?” His teammates let out quick whoops of enthusiasm. It’d been some time since he had gone out with his team, mostly due to the fact that he was sick of fielding questions about where he’d be playing. It made him uncomfortable to know that they had probably given it more thought than he had. But he figured that he had refrained from hanging out for long enough and that the guys had probably taken a hint about giving up the questions. And if not, there would probably be enough girls and alcohol to keep them occupied.
Damian headed into the shower stalls. His teammates’ boisterous chatter faded as the water fell from the showerhead. He leaned his forehead against the tiles, feeling the warm water hit his sore shoulders. He was exhausted, having spent the past weeks feeling tired but somehow unable to fall asleep. His mind just wouldn’t let him.
Running a hand across the back of his neck, he remembered the trick his mother had used to help him decide between staying at UCLA or leaving to try his hand at pro ball. It was a silly tactic, asking him to just say the first thing that came to mind in terms of what he wanted – to stay in school or head to the NBA. He blurted out “NBA” without a moment’s hesitation.
Damian had tried that same tactic with Gemma when she had been going through a rough patch in her life. What can you do right now to be happy? Her reply had come as a surprise. Never quite the daredevil, her answer was for some reason cliff diving. Despite confusion, Damian accepted her answer as what she needed and interestingly, the cliff dive seemed to turn out exactly as she had hoped. Gemma was suddenly able to make all those big decisions that had scared her so much.
What can you do right now to be happy? Damian asked himself. He closed his eyes as he ducked his head under the shower. When was the last time he felt truly happy? He had told Gemma that night that it didn’t matter if she technically had everything – a dream career, a comfortable life, a famous significant other. If there was something wrong, something off that made her feel unhappy, it needed to be acknowledged. Damian never thought he’d have to ask himself this same question. He had felt “off” for a good year or so now but he hadn’t been ready to acknowledge it, similar to how he felt still unready to choose which team he wanted to play for next season. He couldn’t even say for sure what teams he wouldn’t consider. The thought of considering anything overwhelmed him, which was uncharacteristic. He had always been decisive, never one to allow himself so much time in limbo.
He recalled that night in the men’s bathroom of the Vicente Oak and how bizarre he had found Gemma’s sudden desire to cliff dive. Damian could feel how overwhelmed she was. He knew it wasn’t the time for questions, even though he had worried until the day she returned that he had aided in something potentially dangerous. He trusted her though, in a way that he had found it difficult to trust others since.
That evening, he and Aubrey had gone back to her place. He was shirtless and without a car, having given both those things to Gemma for her sudden excursion. Throughout the drive back, he watched Aubrey. He couldn’t help but admire her beauty and how willing she was to help two people she hardly knew.
By night, they wound up on her couch with a bottle of wine. Somewhere halfway through their conversation, Damian had leaned in to kiss her. Aubrey kissed him back, though tentatively. But with his eyes closed, all he could see was Gemma. They pulled away at the same time, bursting out laughing. Something hadn’t felt quite right and Damian was thankful that Aubrey had somehow felt the same way.
“You like her,” she had said. “Gemma. Right?” Damian leaned back against the couch, drawing his knees into his chest.
“I don’t know how to answer,” he replied, truthfully. It was a little more complicated than that.
For the rest of the night, Aubrey and Damian recalled their past relationships. Damian really only had one real one under his belt – Nicki. Only after the years they spent together, living together, going through just about everything together, did he realize that he could barely count what he had with Gemma as a real relationship. He cherished what they did have – a complicated but beautiful friendship.
It was different with Nicki. He had fallen for her while they were in school. She was fiercely independent and unpredictable in a way that kept him excited and on his toes. But after they moved in together, after he started playing for the Warriors, after she had learned everything about his past with “Queen Bee,” she was suddenly a different person. Damian wasn’t sure whether she had always been that way and he had just been blinded by love, or if his suddenly, somewhat unorthodox lifestyle had drawn that side out of her. Either way, he knew he was doing her more harm than good and knew he had to let her go. Am I just holding her back if I stay with her?
It was another decision he had made with that silly little trick his mother had taught him. Growing up, he had always found it to be overly simplistic and even insulting to his intelligence. But more often than not, it seemed that the first answer that came to mind was almost always the right one for him, even if it was based more on emotion than practicality. This time, he was too afraid to even ask himself the question. He didn’t want to acknowledge the answers that might come of it.
“Hey, you fall asleep in there?” a voice called, shaking him from his haze. The sound of falling water was suddenly deafening, as if he had stepped out of his thoughts and straight into a rainstorm. He peeked out of the stall to see one of the team centers, Chris, looming in the doorway.
“Almost did,” Damian replied.
“Want me to grab you a Red Bull or something?” Chris asked. Damian paused for a second, considering it.
“You know what, yeah. I could use a boost.”
~
Josh had gotten a private table at Christophe, a dance club in the French Quart
er. It was two stories with an open courtyard in the middle where hundreds of people gathered on the dance floor. Their table was sectioned off on the second floor balcony overlooking all the action.
Having failed to find Damian an energy drink before arriving at the club, Chris had decided that the next best substitute was ordering him a Vodka Red Bull upon arrival. He had downed two in quick succession, forgetting that the seven-foot-tall Chris would probably handle the alcohol better. Damian could already feel the slight delay in his thoughts and actions, but something about the onset of his tipsiness felt like somewhat of a relief. He wasn’t sure if it was the energy drink or the alcohol, but he felt a slight burst through his veins that he hadn’t felt in awhile. His teammates noticed too, happy to see Damian’s mood pick up as he downed another drink and danced to the cheesy pop songs that the club seemed to favor.
“Leave it to Josh,” Chris yelled over the speakers. “The man has some skill, always picking the tacky-ass spots no matter the city we’re in.”
“Aw, c’mon, it’s fun,” Damian laughed, doing his best not to spill the new drink he had in his hands as he danced.
“They’re Instagramming this shit. They tagged me,” Chris said, flipping through his phone. “Not good for my rep.” Damian stared at Chris for a moment, realizing he was serious. He bit his lip back, suppressing the laughter that was building up in his chest. Chris was a sophomore player who played limited minutes, and like a lot of the younger players on the team, he took his “reputation” a little too seriously. If Damian were sober, he’d give Chris a pep talk and tell him not to worry, but he was definitely on his way to being very drunk and was in the mood to just embrace it.