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Chapter1:Lovehasashotclock
Jakepalmedtheball;Jakepalmedtheballlikeanapepalmingacoconut.
Poundingtheballagainstthepavement,heranthelengthofthecourt.Thesun
glazedhisdarkskin;sweatglowedreflectivelywhiletricklingagainsthischest.
Threetofourdribblesbeforehefakedrightbeforegoingleft.Heblastedpastthe
defendereverytime.Predictable,butfewhadthekahunasbigenoughtostopit.
Onthenextplayhedashedrightpasthisdefender,plunderedinsidethelane,
gatheredhisfeethopsteppingintotheheavens.Withhishandscockedback
behindhisshoulderblades,feetbentbehindhisknees,hetomahawkedtheballinto
therim.Thesidelinesroaredwithpraise.Acombinationoffear,andexcitement
swarmedthroughtheonlookers.
Therecouldn’thavebeenabetterdayforapickupgame.Theskywasclear,the
windblewcoolair,themosquitoeswereoccupiedandifyoulookeddirectlyintothe
sunyoucouldseethebasketballgodssmilingdownontheblacktop.
MarcusWhitewastallbynormalmeasuresstanding6’1.Hisframewas
small,buthehadjustenoughmuscletobeconsideredanathlete.Marcusbrushed
hislowcutcaesarwiththepalmofhishandssmoothingoutthebaldspotaroundhis
temple.Unimpressedwithwhathehadseen,hesmirkedatJakeashewatchedhim
hangontherim.“Wegotnext,”hesaid,whilelacinghissneakers.Heworethe
universalstreetballuniform:Namebrandsneakers,oldt-shirtwiththesleeves
rippedoff,andoffbrandmeshshorts.Heswallowedthebutterfliesthatcongested
hisstomach,andgatheredhisteammateslikelivestock.Marcusyelledtowards
Damien,“We’reup.”WorriedMikewouldwonderoff,hepattedhimontheback,
andnudgedhimtowardsthecourt.Tariq,hisfourthplayer,stoodcomposedand
ready.
“We’reup,”saidMarcus,repeatedly.
Hechargedthecourtwavingthelosersawaylikeflies.Hepointedouthis
teammates;countedoutallfourplayers,includinghim.
DamienpattedMarcusonthebackside“Getyourman,”hesaid.Then
Damiencoveredhisassignment.Damienwasjustbelow6feettallwithmuscular
legs,andimpressiveshouldersforhisbuild.Mikeachubbydarkskinkidwithquick
feetdraggedhisshoesagainstthepavement.Tariqwasleft-handedandhadalong
reachforhisheightof5’7.Readily,hepressedhishandsagainsthisassignment’s
shouldertokeephimhonest.
Jakes’teamconsistedofRed,ablackguywho’snicknamederivedformhis
haircolorandfreckles,Dominiqueascrappyplayersportingachiptooth,andflat
footedRonnie.
“Gameto12allones,”Ronniesaid.Hecalledoutthecourtrulesthen
passedtheballinbounds.
Jakesqueezedtheballwithbothhands,spunit,slammeditandmarched
downthecourt.Marcuswaitedpatientlybehindtheimaginaryhalfcourtline.Widein
hisdefensivestancehiseyesfloatedsidetoside.”Callthepicks,”heshouted,
foreshadowingapossibleplay.
JakewavedoffaleftscreenfromRed.Hepickedupspeedwitheach
dribble;hepattedtheballshufflingitrighttoleft.Withafakeoutpenetrationmove,
hejabsteppedleft,andsprunghisfootbacktoaneutralposition.
MarcusatJake’smercybuckledbackwards.Jaketookhistime,relaxedandsank
theshot.
UnknowinglytoDominique,Damienhadhustledhiswaydowncourtbefore
Jake’sbasketsankthroughthenet.Dominiquetooknoticelate,turnaround,and
franticallychasedafterDamien.Withamplespacearoundhim,Damienreachedhis
armsupcallingfortheball.MikeacknowledgedDamienandlaunchedtheballlikea
rocket.TheballcrashedintoDamien’spalmswhothenquicklytookonedribble,
switchedtheballovertohisrighthandcockinghisarmbackandthrewdowna
crowdpleaser.
Smotheredagainstthebleachersyoungladiesaccompaniedtheir
boyfriends.Theyadjustedtheirtops,appliedlip-glossandyelledoutwordsof
encouragement.Otherspectatorssimplywatched.Occasionally,theplayers
stoppedtheactiontokickofflooseballsthatclutteredtheplaygroundalongwith
candyrappersandemptybagsofchips.
Theplayersyelledoutscoreswitheachbasketball.Downthestretcha
breachinthescoresturnedanexcitinggameargumentative.Obscuredgestures
andbatteringfoulsdisorientedthecourt.Thegamespedupastimepassed.Both
teamsexchangedbasketsbackandforwardastestosteronefilledtheair.
Redbroughttheballdownthecourt.Tariqstalkedhiminchbyinchclosingthe
distanceanytimeRedmadeamoveofsignificance.Overwhelmed,hedribbled
backtothetopofthekey.Jakecalledfortheballashepositionedhimselfdownlow.
Heraisedhisrightarmwhileclearingspacewithhisleft.Marcuspushedupagainst
Jake;withhishandsplacedagainstJake’slowerback,heheldhisground.Jake
reachedaroundhisbacktossingMarcus’armaway.TheballtwirledtowardsJake,
hecaughtit,spunright,andlostMarcusinthewind.Marcusreachedhishandin
attemptingtopluckattheball,butJaketookflight,andpunishedtherim
“AndtheSpartansgoupbyone,”saidJake,ramminghisshoulderinto
Marcus’collarboneasherandowncourt.
Marcus’bodyshapeshifted.Anexcruciatingpainranthroughhisneck.He
tookasecondtogatherhimself,andswearunderneathhistongue.Tariqpassedthe
ballinboundtoMikewhodasheddowncourt.Mikelookedleftandrightforacutter,
andfoundMarcustrailingbehind.Marcushurrieddowncourt,cutthroughthelane,
andmadehiswaytothebaseline.Herubbedtheinsideofhisearbeforesmearing
waxaroundhisfingertipsforgrip.Nowopeninthefarlifecorner,hishandsswung
up.Hecaughtthebulletpass.Hesquareduptowardsthebasket.WhenJake
appearedfromthecornerofhiseye,hehaltedhisjumpshotmotion.
VeinspulsedfromJake’sneckasheranlikeanattackdoghuntinghisprey.
Marcussizedhimup.Timedhim.Baitedhim.Pumpfaked,andlefthimstuckinthe
airfloating,cloudlike.Marcusrepositionedhisfeet,squaredbackup,andreleased
theballattheheightofhisshot.Cockyinstance,helethisfollowthroughhand
lingerastheballpenetratedthebasket.
“It’sonlysolongfakeguardscanpretend,”saidMarcus,spoofingarapline.
Jakereceivedtheballfrominbound;hesmackeditwithhisrighthand,
poundeditagainsthisleftpalm,anddribbleddowncourttowardsMarcus.Mike
playedoffhismantohelphimcoverJake.MarcusglancedoveratMike,raisedhis
hand,andwavedhimoffasiftostakesoleclaimofthebull.Hethenslammedboth
handsagainstthepavementandlikeamatadordirectedthebulltowardshim
JakesquaredupwithMarcus,anddancedwiththeballweavingitinandout
ofhislegs.Whenhefoundhisrhythmheperformed:Threedribblesandaninout
movefakingrightbeforegoingleft.Marcuskepthisbalanceniceanddefensetight,
andwentoverthemoveinhisheadwhileitplayedout.
Disruptively,Marcustookapartthemovelikeanoverzealousstreetmechanic.
Startled,withnowheretogoJake’seye’sdarkened.Hecuppedtheballunderhis
forearms,madeafist,andtookaboundtowardsMarcus.Whenhissecondfoot
landedhedroppedhisleftelbowblastingintoMarcus’chest.
Whilethrownback,Marcusgasped.Heleanedagainsttheballsofhisfeetand
caughthisbalance.Hereachedoverattheballtonoavail.Distraughtly,hereached
aroundJake’sneckpressingagainsthisAdamsappleashetackledhimdown.
Jake’sbodytiltedbackwards;190poundsofmuscletumbled.Marcushoped
fortheworst,butwasdisappointed.Jakebrokehisfallonhisbuttandsprungup.He
lookedathishandsfullofdebris,wipedit,andchargedatMarcus.Hepushed
Marcusheroically,likeapedestrianbeingsavedfromoncomingtraffic.
MarcusflewbackafewfeetbeforelandingintoDamienarms.
JakerantowardMarcusagain,butMikesteppedinshieldinghisfriend.
Thescenequicklybecamequarrelsome;bothpartiespushed,grabbedand
shovedateachother.Patronsfromthesidelineintervenedseparatingbothgroups,
stoppingthemelee,beforeanyseriouspuncheslanded.Bothpartiestossedback
wordsorwar,andhatelikehardliquor
“Samemoveeverytime,”Marcussaid.
“Itwasgoodenoughtotakeyourspot,”Jakesaid.
“Youdidn’ttakeit,Ihandedittoyou,”Marcussaid.
“IguessyouhandedmeJataratooright?”Jakesaid.Hepickeduphisshirt
fromthegroundandwrappeditaroundhisshoulderandmarchedalongwithhis
crew.
MarcusAssessedthewordsdealthiswayandthebutterfliesreturned.He
watchedonwhileJakeandcompanyantagonizingstaresdisappearedbeyondthe
schoolparkinglot.
Lateronintheweek,afterabriefhiatus,JatarafinallytextedMarcusback.
Nohappyfaces,nocuteabbreviations,justaflatinvitationtomeetup.
Theydecidedtomeetattheirfavoriteeatery,Joe’sBurritos.Alocal,familyowned,
restaurantthatbraggedaboutservingburritosthesizeofyourhead.
Thesunlituptherestaurantfromtheoutside.Thelobbysmelledofwarm
tortillawraps,anddomesticbeer.Perspiring,Marcusstretchedthecollarofhisshirt
againsthisface,andwipedthesweatbeadstricklingagainsthisnose.The
temperatureofroomrose,buteveryoneelselookedcool.Headjustedhispromise
ringsothewordsJataralovesMarcusforeverfacedup.Hecheckedhisphone
screen;tenminutesbehindschedule,buthemadeit.Hescannedthelobby,spotted
her,andbecameenamoredbyherpresence.
Jatarasatpatientlyinabooth,handsonherlapwithherfingersdangly.The
boothshechosewasdiscreet,cornedinperfectviewofthetelevision.Mounted
highagainstthewall,thetelevisiondisplayedasoapoperaonTelemundo.He
walkedovertohertableandbrushedhershoulderwithhispalms.Startled,she
jumpedoutofdeepthought,andbackinsidetheconsciousworld.Shepushedher
bangsawayfromherface,creasedherdeepdimplesandbrokeasmile.“Hey,”she
said.Shehadonasummerdressthatdrapeddowntohercalves.Itwaswhitewith
colorfuldesignsontheprint,andagreenbowatthewaistline.Marcushadongray
sweatpantswithawhitet-shirtandallwhiteNikes.Hewrappedabluebagaround
hisbackthathealwayskeptonhim
Hetookoffhisbackpackandslidittotheoppositeendoftheboothwhile
watchingherlittleframeliftofftheseat.Hethenreachedaroundherarmsand
squeezedher.“Howhaveyoubeen?”heasked,takinginhervanillafragrance.
Withhereyestitledlowshesaid,“I’vebeengood.”
Satisfiedwiththesmalltalktheyagreedtoorder,andSheledtheway.Theline
stretchedouthalfwayacrosstherestaurant,butmovedatasteadypace.Whenthe
cashierhandedareceipttothelastpatronahead,theysteppedforward.
“WelcometoJoe’sBurrito,”saidthecashier,ayoungwhitegirlwithatrickle
ofLatininherblood.Sheworeherdarkhairtiedinabun.Itmadeherlookyounger
thanhertrueage.
“Hi,Iwouldliketohavetwosoft-shellchickentacos,”saidJatara,“andcanI
havesomeguacamoleontheside?”
“Surenoproblem,”saidthecashier.
MarcusslidinfrontofJatara.“Letmegettheonepoundchickenburritowith
everythingonit,”hesaid.Thecashieraskedhimifhewouldlikeguacamoleonthe
sideaswell,andhepassed.
“You’regoingtoeatallofthat?”Jataraasked,eerily.
Forasmallgirlshesurehadbigopinions.“I’mstarving,”Marcussaid.
Thecashierwaitedfortheshowtoplayout.“Wouldyoulikeanythingtodrink
withthat?”sheasked.
“Yes,”Marcussaid,“butmakethatburritohalfchickenhalfsteak.”
“Canyouevendothat?”askedJatara.Shegrumpedherfaceinhalfa
curioushalfdisgustdemeanor
Thecashierlookedoverhershoulder,conversedwiththeprepcookinSpanish,
andafterafewexchangesconcludeditwasnoproblem.
“See!”saidMarcus,proudly.“Let’sgettwomediumcupswiththatorder.”
ThecashierhandedtwocupstoMarcusthathepassedJatara’sway,andshe
headedtothefountaindrinkstation.WithJatara’sannoyanceatadistance,he
orderedachocolatecoveredtaco,whichhediscreetlyhidinhissweatpants.
AttheirseatsJatarahandedMarcushisdrink.Hepeeledoffthewrapper
aroundthestrawandstabbeditintothelid.Hetookasipofhisbeverage,“Diet
Coke?”hesaid,murmuring.
“What’swrongwithDietCoke?”sheasked.
“It’sasbadastherealstuff.”hesaid,“Itjusttastesworse.”Marcusgotout
thebooth,grabbedhiscupandwalkedovertothedrinkstation.Hepouredoutthe
dietcokeandrinsedthecupout.Helookedoverhisoptionsbeforedecidingon
Sprite.Hesplashedinafewpiecesoficeandtookaseat.
JataraglancedoveratMarcuscup.Heknewherwellenoughtoknowthequestion.
“It’sSprite,”hesaid.MarcusunwrappedhisburritowhileJatara’seyeshovered
overhisfood.Hetookhisconcentrationoffhismeal,andcaughtaglimpseofher
staring;heignoredherandcontinueddrowninghisburritoinsauce.
“So…whatdidyoudoallweek?”sheasked.Shegrabbedtheplastic
containerfilledwithguacamole,andpoureditonthetopofhertacos.
“Nothingexciting,”hesaid,beforetakingmansizedbitesofhisburrito.
“IheardaboutyouandJake,”shesaid.JataralookedawayfromMarcus,
andnibbledawayathertaco.
Hewipedhismouthwithanapkin.“Itwasnothingjustapushingmatch,”hesaid.
Thenhepeeledthelidoffhiscup,andtookagulpofhisbeverage.
“Why?”sheasked.
Heburped,gothimselftogetherandhisfacetightened“He’sarrogant.That
wholeStatethingisgettingtohishead,”hesaid.
Shepickedatherfood,pluckingbitsofchickenfromhertaco,andsaid.“You
couldhavegone.”
“Gonewhere?”heasked.
“Tostate,”shesaid.
“Yea,ifitwasn’tforJake,”
“Youcouldofwalkedon,”
“WhywouldIdothat?”
“BecauseI’mgoing,”
“Goingwhere?”
“ToState,”shesaid.
Hefrowned,brushedhishairwithhispalms,andlookedaroundthe
restaurantasifanswersfloatedamongstthemoths.
“Idecidedmyselfweeksago,”shesaid.“YouknowIwantedtogo.”
“Loyalty?”heasked.Hispromiseringbegantolooseashishandbecame
moist.Helookedatherfinger,andforthefirsttimerealizedtheringonherhand
wasn’thisown.
“Stillam,”shesaid,“loyaltowhoyouoncewhere.”Jatararanherfingers
throughherpurse,pulledoutaringandplaceditonthetable.
Theringglowedonthetable.Thelightilluminatedjustafewwordsofthe
engraving.ItreadMarcusloves.“SoJakewastellingthetruth?”
“Iwantedtotellyou.”
“So’that’swhywe’rehere?”
“That’swhywe’rehere!”
Hewrappedupwhatremainedofhisburrito,placeditindoggybag,secured
itinhisbackpack,andslidittotheleftofhim.
“Mymomwillbehereshortlyifyouwantaride?”sheasked.
Heignoredher.Atraitorwithaconsciouswasstillatraitor
“Pleasedon’tbemad.Ithinkwecanstillbefriends,”shesaid.Jatararelaxed
herforearmsonthetable,andtwirledherforkaroundincircles.Whenherphone
rang,astrongermorematureversionofhervoiceleakedthroughthespeakers.
“IhavetogoMarcus,”shesaid.
Shestoodupturnedtowardhim“TakecareofyourselfMarcus,”shesaid,before
leavinghim.Heshrunkinhisseatsomuchhislegsdangled.
Lookingforcomfort,Marcusreachedinhissweatpantspulledouthis
chocolatecoveredtaco,unwrappeditandcrunchedintothewafflecone.Acouple
bitesintothedessertandstillnochangeinhismoodaccrued.Theenergyinthe
roomwasstillrotten.Helookeddown;Jatara’sringsatonthetable.Ittauntedhim
withjudgment,andsuckedenergyfromhim.Heglimpsedatthetrashcanacrossthe
restaurant,smirked,andsizeditup.Hesquintedhiseyesuntiltheringalone
crowdedhisview.Hebalancedtheringonthetablesoitstoodvertically.Withhis
rightindexfinger,hesquaredupthering,andflickeditacrossthebooth.Thering
tookflight,butitfellshortsmackingintothetopofthetrashcanbeforedisappearing
underatable.“Almosthadit,”Marcussaid.Afewlaughsmuffledfromatable
besidehim.Thekindoflaughsaconfidentmanignores.Hescrunchedinhisseat,
thelaughsgotlouder,hispridedwindledandthenhejettedoutthedoor.
ThebusMarcuscaughtfromthecampusofWesternMichiganUniversity
haddroppedhimoffatthedesignatedtransferstation,adeadstripmallwitha
Marshall’sstoreasitsclaimtofame.ThemallhadtheappealofaninnercityGrey
Houndstationmixedwiththelandscapeofdilapidatedhousingunits
Whileplantedonabench,hedreamtupunlikelyscenariosofwhathemight
ofdonedifferentlyifhecouldrelivetheeventsofthelastfewhours.Hisbuspulled
up;itssignreadA1DrakeRd.Thebuswoulddrophimoffafewyardsfromhis
house,aneasywalkhome.
Hereachedovertohisrightsideandthenquicklyjerkedleft.Hestoodup,
scannedthebench,andthensquatteddowntohiskneestosearchunderneathhis
seat.Therewasnothingtherebutgumwrappersandoldreceipts.Hecheckedthe
trashcanbythebench,lookedoverhisshouldersinbothdirectionsforstragglers
butnoonesignificantwasinsight.Hetappedhisrightlegonthegroundrepeatedly
untilhisthoughtscleared,andthenitcametohim.
Thebusdriver,ablackladyinhermidthirties,draggedonaNewport.She
woreanavyblueuniform,whichconsistedofacollaredshortsleeveshirtandlong
pantsthathuggedherhips.Shestoodafewfeetbesidethebusblowingsmoke
fromherlungs.Inbetweenpuffs,shetwistedherlefthandtowardherfacetocheck
thetime.
MarcusapproachedherjustassheputouttheNewport.“Excuseme,what
timeisthebusthat’sheadingbacktowardscampuscoming?”heasked.
“Itwon’tbehereforanotherhour,”Shesaid,glancingatherwatch.
“Ineedtogetbacktocampusassoonapossible,”hesaid.
Thebusdrivercalmedhimdownasheexplainedhisdilemma.
“I’lltakeyouasclosetocampusaspossible,butyouwouldhavetowalkfrom
thestreetthebusturnsoffon,”shesaid,“That’sthebestIcando.”
Thebusblewcoolairwithastenchofmildew.Theseatsweretealwithwhite
linesonthemrevealingwheretheleatherhadcracked.Onlyahandfulof
passengersoccupiedthebusduringthistimeofday.
Marcuscrackedthewindow,tookinthesummerair,andletthecoolbreeze
calmhim.Whilehypnotizedinthemoment,animageofwherehelefthisbagand
thecontentsthatrestedinitappeared.Hewassortingouthisplanwhenanudge
againsthislegbrokehisconcentration.Atallfigurepushedupagainsthim.Inthe
seatover,atightfit,abumsquishedhisbodyinlikeaTetrisblock.Thewhitemale
hadgrayishblondhair,overgrownearsandabearddecoratedwithleftovers.His
stenchpropelledthroughtheair;itsmelledofdeodorant,cheeseburgerwrappers
andusedsodacans.Marcusrecoiledhisbodypressingasclosetothewindowas
possible,butthebumcameincloser.Thebumlodgedseveralbagstogether,which
includedanoldarmybagthatscrapedMarcus’legeverytimethebushitasudden
jerk.
“Hey,youwouldn’thappentohaveacigarette”Thebumasked.
“Idon’tsmoke,”Marcussaid.
“That’stoobad.”hesaid.Thebumproceededtostartaone-way
conversationaboutagovernmentconspiracyandtieditintothepricehikeof
cigarettes.Marcusheardhim,butdidn’tlisten.Heleanedhisheadagainstthe
windowasfatiguegavein,andlethisheadbobblewhileJatara’swordsateathim.
Thebusdriverappearedthroughhermonitoringmirror,“Heykid,yourstopis
comingupshortly,”sheyelled.
Heraisedhishandstoacknowledgeher.Hewantedtothankher,buthis
mouthhaddried.
Somehowthebumtooknotice,hereachedintoawhiteshoppingbagandpulledout
ahalffrozenbottleofwater.“Youlooklikeyoucanusethis,”hesaid,pointingthe
bottleMarcus’way.
Hegrabbedthewaterfromthebum’shand,quenchedhisthirstandburpedin
appreciation.
Whenhefinallyreachedhisstop,heapproachedthebum.“Hey,what’syour
name?”heasked.
“Samuel,”hesaid
Marcusreachedintohispocketpulledoutafewsingles,andhandedthem
hisway.Hethenlookeddownonhisfinger,twistedoffhispromisering.Helooked
atitonelasttime,flippeditintheairandcaughtit.“Iguessforeverhasashot
clock,”hesaid,whilehandinghim14karatsofexpiredlove.
Then,heslippedpastandhoppedoffthebus.
Afterthebuspassed,Marcuslookedaroundforadiscreetarea,found
somebushes,andrelievedhimself.Hisbladderwouldhaveexplodedduringthebus
rideifhehadn’ttaughthimselftocope.Hemasteredtheskillhissenioryearofprep
hoopsasanalternativetobreakingupplaystohitthelockerroom.
Bythetimehereturnedtocampus,theskyhaddarkened.Hepeeped
throughthewindowsoflittleshops,chairsstackedontabletops,closedsignsand
employeeshustlingaroundoccupiedthescene.Lightsfromtheopenpizzeriasand
barskeptthestreetslit.
Whilewaitingforthecrosswalksigntoturnwhitehisvisionblurred.He
squinted,andwipedhiseyelidsdry.Bravely,heinchedhisfootforward.Theloud
resonantsoundofacarhorncloudedhisear,andhejumpedback.Afewswear
wordspropelledtowardshimbeforehedecidedtogiveitanothergo.
Arrogantly,heinchedforwardagain,butbeforehecouldwalkahandgrabbedhis
shoulder,andsprunghimback.
“Whatareyoutryingtocommitsuicide?”thevoicesaid.
Marcusturnedaround,andpeeredhiseyes.“Antwan?”heasked.
Antwanhadasmilelikeazebrawithperfectwhiteteethtogoalongwithit.
Thepreviousyearsofbraceshadpaidoffforhim.Thefellasknewhimasbigbro,
orDamien’solderbrotherdependingonwhomyouasked.Justaninchshorterthan
Daimen,butwithabiggerbuildandmorematurefeatures
“Whatareyoudoingoncampus?”heasked,“betteryetwhatareyoudoing
playingintraffic?”
“JusttryingtogettoJoe’s,”Marcussaid.
“Iseverythingcool?”heasked.
“Allergies,”Marcussaid.
AntwanwalkedwithMarcusacrossthestreet,andpointedhimintheright
directions.“Youbetterrushthey’llbeclosedsoon,”hesaid,andthenhewentonhis
way.
MarcustwistedthedoorknobatJoe’sBurritos,butitdidn’tbudge.Thelight
ontheneonsignhaddulledandpatronswhoearlierclutteredtheoutsidebalcony
hadvanished.Insidethestorefrontwindow,aSpanishladywipeddowntabletops.
Seekingherattention,heknockedviolentlyonthewindow.
Startled,shejerkedback,andpalmedherchest.Shelookedathimthroughthe
glass,andpointedtoherimaginarywatch.MarcusYelledthroughthewindowasa
mutewould,“Ineedmybag,”hesaid,butnowordsactuallylefthismouth.Hewaved
hertowardthedoor,andsheignoredhim.Hethensmackedonthewindow
repeatedlyuntilheannoyedherenoughtocometohisaid.Sheturnedherhead
towardstheregister,paused,andmadeherwaytotheentrance.
Shecrackedopenedthedoor.“Sorry,butwe’reclosed,”shesaid.
“Ijustneedtograbmybackpack.Ileftitontheboothintherear,”hesaid,
pointingthedirectionwherehewasseatedearlier.
“Holdon,”shesaid.Shelockedthedoorbehindherandwentbackintothe
lobby.Afterafewminutesshecamebacktothedoorandstuckherheadout.
“Sorrythere’snobackpackinhere.”Sheclosedthedoorlikeaschoolgirlpolitely
breakingupwithherboyfriend.
“Wait!”hesaid,stickinghisshoesthroughthecrackofthedoor.“Letme
checkmyself,”
Nowabitedgy,shelookedoveratMarcus’footjammingtheentrance.She
lookedoutsidemakingsurehedidn’thaveguest.Shehuffed,andlethimthrough.
Whileinside,hewenttotheexactboothhehadoccupied.Hecheckedaroundthe
booth,andunderthetable.Theyoungladykeptlookingbehindthecounter;
alternatingbetweenthatandwatchinghiseverymove.ShegaveMarcusafew
minutestosearchthenshereasonedwithhim.“I’msorryyoulostyourbag,butyou
havetogonow,”Shesaid,“Mymangerwouldkillmeifhesawyouhereafter
hours.”
Marcuspaidhernomind,slidingbackandforwardonthelobbyfloors
ashecheckedeveryinchoftherestaurant.Theyoungladyproceededtorecite
safetyguidelineshopingtogethisattention.WhenMarcus’sresiliencehaddulled,
hepulleddownachairfromthetabletopandtookaseat.Hedugdowndeepin
memoryretracinghisstepswhiletheyoungladymadethreatshedidn’tbelieveshe
wascapableof.
FromthebackoftherestaurantaSpanishguywithabigbellyandstained
poloshirtemerged.HecaughtaglimpseofMarcushanginginhislobby.Helooked
overattheyoungladyandspoketoherinanaggressivetone;alanguageMarcus
couldn’tcomprehend.Afewexchangesandhisdemeanorlightedup.TheSpanish
guyreachedundertheregisterandpulledoutabluebackpack.
Marcussighedinrelief;heapologizedforthetroubleandaskedtousethe
restroom.ThebigbellymansizedupMarcus’frameandagreed.
Marcusyankedontherestroomdoor.Heheardavoice,buthaddifficulty
makingoutanywords.Hewaitedanxiouslyforafewminutesthenaloudflushcame
fromtherestroom.Marcusbackedup,andthedoorflewopen.Atartodorsmacked
himinthefaceasthemancameout,smirkingandembarrassed.Marcuspulledhis
shirtoverhisnoseandentered.Therestroomhadnostall,justanoldtoiletanda
sinkthatdrippedwatereveryfewseconds.Marcussathisbagonthesurfaceofthe
sink.Hegrabbedablackcasefromhisbackpack.HepulledouthisFlexPenfullof
Novolog,pulledoffthetop,andattachedtheneedle.Hethenturnedtheknobto10
units,andflickedatthepenthreetimes.Hepulleddownhispants,andinjectedthe
needletothesideofhisthighapplyingpressure.
Abouttheauthor
JamesArawoleisascreenwriterturnedauthorwhoattendedNew
YorkFilmAcademywherehestudiedscreenwritingandfilmproduction.He
laterworkedasaproductionassistantfortheacclaimedHBOseriesThe
Wire.HeplanstopublishBloodisthickerthansugarasafull-lengthbook
viaKickstarter.FormoreinformationontheKickstartercampaignplease
visit
Facebook.com/bloodisthickerthansugar