A ray of sunlight shined into the room, creating a highlighted box on the concrete floor that looked like the carpet had been ripped out of it. One of the closet doors hung ajar, its hinges clinging to the door and wall like a child of two divorced parents. How familiar.
Natoya stretched and looked around her bedroom. Her back didn't feel any better than yesterday, either because it still hadn't recovered from the 20-hour back-to-back trip, or because she had spent the entire night sleeping on the floor. But man, that was the best sleep of her life.
It almost felt unreal that she had actually returned to her mother's house 18 hours ago. Instead, it felt like she had just had an incredibly tiresome basketball game that lasted all day yesterday.
She picked herself up from the floor and zipped open her duffel bag. She hadn't unpacked since last night. In fact, Natoya didn't do anything other than collapse on the same cot she had been sleeping on ever since winter break started. Her dad, on the other hand, was fast at work with his lawyer, trying to figure out how to become the custodial parent within this week. He was scheduling an emergency meeting with him, her mother, and the court to change the custodial order—or whatever it's called.
She grabbed a ranger-rolled sweatshirt and shorts, undergarments, and her toiletries bag, then walked over to the bathroom. She took a quick shower, changed into her new clothes, and wrapped her old ones in the rough white hotel towels she had used to dry herself off. Then, she tossed both into a laundry hamper.
She stepped out of her bedroom and heard her dad on the phone with her mother. "It's not a construction site. It is a two-bedroom apartment that follows all terms within the order," she heard him say in a stern tone.
Her dad's unit was a two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment that looked like it had been designed by a freshman architecture major, and though it could all easily be covered up with some nice decor—her dad wasn't one to spend a lot of time in furniture stores. The apartment did look like an unfinished construction site. It did have terrible placement for the bathrooms, and it did look like something from the Industrial Revolution, but it felt more like home to her than her mother's neat complex that looked more like a house tour than an actual living space.
She slowly walked over to his room and knocked on his door, poking her head through the door.
"Dad?" she asked, waiting for a response from him.
"One moment..." he said to his lawyer before he turned to face her. "Yes, sweetie?" he asked in a soft and gentle voice, the complete opposite of the stern, formal speech he used in front of his lawyer and her mother.
"Is it okay if I go to the park?" she asked, offering him a soft, almost awkward smile. Her dad didn't hesitate as he read her body language and face. He looked way more stressed out than she did, but for some reason, his entire face relaxed as she side-stepped into his room.
"Yes, of course. Stay safe, watch the roads," he said, pausing with every indent in his voice.
"Thanks, Dad," she said, backing out of his room for him to continue talking on the phone. She could hear her mother yelling on the other side of the phone and tried to block it out as she grabbed a pair of her earbuds and plugged them into her ears. She grabbed her phone, opened her music app, and began playing loud music to block out the argument that she knew was about to take place. She then walked to her closet and cautiously opened the door, careful not to break it off of the hinges that were holding on for dear life. Inside the closet was her oasis, everything she had brought from her mother's house whenever she was sent to her dad's place for the holidays, weekends, or just whenever she was mad. The basketball her dad had gifted her when she joined her middle school's basketball team. The skateboard her dad had bought her after she started taking self-defense classes. Boxing gloves, a portable painting set, and a small jewelry box that had tiny trinkets she had been collecting.
She grabbed her basketball and skateboard and began walking out of the apartment, shutting her bedroom door behind her. She took one last look into her dad's apartment, the sounds of him on the phone with his lawyer filling her ears. She felt a heavy breath escape her lungs, and her eyelids slowly closed. Then, she turned around, locking the apartment door behind her. Please don't fall off when I come back...
The walk to the closest park with a basketball court was—eerie to say the least. It was 9 minutes away from Tailor Lofts, and since it was so early in the morning, traffic was terrible. The more she walked, the more her heart began to beat faster. She could feel the excitement burning in her chest, bubbling and sizzling like water in a pot.
When she finally approached the basketball court, she felt right at home. The fence that she had to pull herself through was green, along with the basketball court itself. It actually almost looked newly refurbished. Probably less than a few months ago, if not that week. Graffiti was on the walls surrounding the building. Trash was littered across the back of it, but she didn't care. She dribbled her ball and began to shoot hoops—growing cautious as she felt as if she were being watched. She stopped shooting her ball and turned to her right. She looked at a young boy, roughly around the same age as her, smiling. The first thing she noticed was his curly brown hair swiftly moving in the wind, and his tank top following like a flag. He looked relatively lean when it came to muscle; she assumed he had the same muscle mass as her.
"Yo, yo, yo, what's up?" he called out as he walked over. He was wearing all loose clothing and what looked like Jordans. But everything tied back to the smile on his face. In a world where all the color looked like it had been sucked out around him, he almost seemed to... glow?
"Hey," she replied and turned towards him while dribbling her ball.
"You from 'round here? I don't think I've seen you before." His voice was... gentle? Comforting? She couldn't describe the word for it—friendly! He looked like the embodiment of the word "hug."
"No, I actually literally just moved down here," she replied, motioning that she was about to bounce the ball at him. He seemed to pick up on her body language, and when she threw the ball at the ground in his direction, he caught it and dribbled it a few times.
"Name's Andre," he began, introducing himself. His smile almost faded for a moment as he looked around. "You know, this here isn't the greatest place. Lotta fights, lots of vandalism..." Andre began, then shot the ball back at her rather slowly. She smiled and caught it swiftly."Yeah, I bet it does. I actually lived near a place just like this back in my old city." She felt compelled to tell him that she used to live in NYC, but at the same time, she didn't want him to assume she was just some city girl who didn't know bad neighborhoods."Really? So, this area isn't too new to you?" he asked, motioning for her to shoot the ball back at him."It actually feels just like home," she replied with a tiny bit of a laugh, then quickly shot the ball into his hands. He caught it, and she noticed him almost looking impressed."I take it you used to play basketball in your old city?" He smiled, and she could see a glint of light in his eyes.
"Only a little bit," she replied with a bit of a misleading tone. "You?" she asked sarcastically, motioning to his basketball jersey.
"Oh yeah, only a little bit." He replied and then shot the ball into the basket from the three-point line that she had only just now noticed he had crossed.
She grabbed the ball as it bounced on the concrete, jumping up to do a half-layup before letting Andre have the ball. He and she continued dribbling and shooting the ball while somewhat talking with one another. She learned that he had lived here for the past ~3 years and that he had three siblings. She only remembered one of their names— Iren. She sounded like a girl she used to know. He had previously come here from Florida but had to move after his mom got sick. She learned that she was living with her dad, and after a bit of avoiding the question, she finally gave in and told him that she had moved here from New York City.
"New York? You play pretty well for a city girl."
"At least my people aren't known for wrestling alligators!"
She also learned that he was attending the same high school as her, was also 14, and was a month younger than her.
"A whole month. You're basically an old lady," Andre laughed as he shot the ball into the basket.
"And you're basically a baby," she playfully punched his shoulder, then ran to grab the ball. She swiftly tried to dunk it into the basket but failed terribly as she wasn't able to jump high enough.
She looked at Andre in embarrassment, but he didn't seem to notice. Instead, he had taken an interest in the streets a bit away from them. She held onto the basketball and gazed in the same direction, trying to figure out what he was looking at.
"Think he's gonna come over here?" Andre asked. She looked at him confused, and he put his hand on her shoulder, leaning in to try and position her in a direction where she could see a black-haired boy wearing a black leather jacket and ripped jeans.
"You've been here longer, what do you think?" she asked, looking a bit worried as she stared at the boy who was walking into the park— he hadn't seemed to notice her or Andre just yet. She pushed the ball into Andre's hands, taking a few steps back while she waited cautiously to see if the boy was actually going to join them in the park.
When he did, he looked surprised and hesitated in his walk over to them. Andre and she continued their game of basketball so as not to make it awkward, though she couldn't stop glancing over every now and then to see how close he was.
"Yo, what's up, dude?" she heard Andre ask as she missed another shot, feeling as if she had an audience, which only made her more nervous.
The boy approaching them had dark black hair. His eyes looked like a dark shade of gray. He had somewhat darker skin than her, but lighter skin than Andre, and his face barely had any marks on it. His leather jacket was a little bit too big for him, and he looked like he was trying to dress like he was for the streets.
"Sup. Mind if I join?" He asked. The way he spoke sounded like he grew up in the streets, but the words he chose to use and the way he used them made her feel underdressed. He made her feel like she had to wear a gown and high heels.
"Yeah, no problem. I'm Andre, by the way." He sort of jogged over, shaking his hand. Andre looked as if he had just received a massage or like he was relaxing in some spa. His shoulders were dropped, and his hand looked sluggish. On the other hand, the other boy looked tense and cautious. His eyes contacted hers, and she could feel his negative energy transfer over."Jess. Nice to meet you." Even his name sounded formal. Maybe it was just the punctual way he said it. He made a smooth motion for Andre to toss the ball. When Andre had, the two boys had already approached the free-throw line, which Jess tossed the ball into."Hey, I'm Natoya," she said after re-running the line through her head, trying to find a way to formally introduce herself to Jess."Pleasure to meet you, Natoya." He said gracefully— almost as if he was about to bow. Her eyes sort of widened in surprise, and she smiled softly at him, then motioned for him to toss her the ball. She then dribbled the ball, shot, and missed, growing red with embarrassment as she felt even more like she had an audience watching her."No big deal, no big deal," Andre said as if he were an auctioneer trying to get bids. But it was almost comforting. He caught the ball mid-fall and dribbled it once before he followed through with his movements and jumped up, shooting the orange ball into the net."Good shot," she said quietly as she wasn't entirely sure if she was even confident enough to say anything."Here, try again," Jess said as he caught the ball, tossing it back to her. She quickly caught it and tossed it back into the hoop, this time making it through.She and Andre continued their conversation, now with Jess joining them. She learned that Jess had also been living in the neighborhood for the past 3 years and that he wasn't specifically from this area, but he lived in the city."Oh, for real? Which neighborhood?" Andre said, sounding as if he was excited to have met a guy who had been in the area for around the same time as him.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
"Just north of here," Jess replied, not really answering directly. Which made sense— he didn't want to tell them the exact place he lived.
"North? Little Tokyo?" Andre asked. A small part of her was impressed at his internal compass. She looked at Jess as he shot the basketball into the hoop, waiting for his answer.
"Something like that," he replied, tossing the ball into the basket. He seemed to be done with this conversation. Andre, however, seemed more persistent and continued asking more detailed questions, which Jess was dancing around.
"What did you say your name was again?" Andre suddenly asked, his eyebrows narrowed. She couldn't necessarily understand why.
"Jess."
"No, your last name?" Andre asked, grabbing the basketball as it began bouncing out of their range.
"What? Are you going to try and find my social media? If you wanted my phone number, you could've just asked," Jess replied sarcastically.
"Really, man? But for real, what's your last name?"
"Nonyabuiz."
"Nonya... Buiz?" she mumbled in confusion. "Is that Eur—"
"Non-ya-business," Jess stared at Andre as he sarcastically answered his question.
"Tell ya my name if you tell me yours?" Andre was persistent—she'd give him that. But so was Jess, who seemed determined not to give them any personal information.
"Man, I don't give a dog's ass about your name," Jess scoffed, slapping the basketball out of Andre's hands. He turned around and shot the ball into the basket, missing. It bounced down the court.
She could feel the basketball court growing with tension. Andre then grabbed the ball from Jess and went for a layup in another attempt to shoot. He made it in the hoop."That's a good shot, Andre," Jess said, taking the ball and going for a layup as well, making it into the hoop. She smiled and watched as the two boys played basketball. Though, she couldn't help but notice that Andre was getting more and more competitive as time went on."The first one to twenty points wins!" she then shouted, teasing them with competition. And with that, Jess dribbled and shot at the hoop, trying to score his first shot. It spun in the basket, almost as if it were deciding whether or not it wanted to give him the point, then fell through the net.
Andre ran up for a 3-pointer and scored successfully without a miss. He had now gained a lead of 3-1 on the scoreboard.
"You're a good shooter, Andre," Jess shouted from the other side of the court. He then shot and scored, bringing the points up to 3-2.
"Thanks, Jess," Andre replied before dribbling the ball and making another layup. He scored two more points, making the score 5-2 in his favor. A group of a few girls passed by, cheering for the boys as they passed.
"Don't worry, Jess. You can catch up," Andre shouted in encouragement.
The ball bounced off the rim and slowly slid towards her as she backed off the court. She leaned down and took the ball, swiftly passing it to Jess. Jess then tried a layup and scored. The score was now 5-4, with Andre in the lead.
The score was close, with Jess and Andre each trying their hardest to beat each other. Eventually, the group of girls that passed by came back with a much larger group of students, all cheering and holding up their phones to record the game.
"Woah," Jess said, growing distracted as the crowd got bigger, and Andre became more determined than ever to win for the people who were watching. He dribbled and then made a layup successfully, the score now being 9-5. She swiftly stood up and made her way out of the cameras. The game quickly became a contest of skill between Andre and Jess, but as time went on, it became a battle of mental endurance and stamina. Jess tried to keep on shooting but missed most of his shots due to an exhausted mental state. Andre would then make some more layups, shooting, and scoring, and the entire crowd would erupt with a loud cheer, some people even yelling out, "Andre for varsity!" Andre would score more and more layups as Jess continued to miss most of his shots.
She rolled her eyes at the attention Andre seemed to be getting and instead focused her energy on Jess. "Come on, Jess! You got this!" she shouted from the sidelines, which—to her surprise—caused more people to start chanting his name.
Minutes passed, and points went up. The game was drawing to a close, and it was apparent that Andre was the victor. Andre looked at the crowd that was watching and raised his hands in victory over the cheers that slowly began to die down. When they had, Andre turned to Jess and smiled, patting him on the back.
"You tried your best, man."
"I'm exhausted. That was a hell of a game, Andre," Jess breathed out while she approached from the sidelines. Jess sat on the basketball court floor, his elbows on his knees as sweat began to fall down his neck and back. He tried to catch his breath and keep composure.
Andre jogged to his bag, causing her to grow impressed with his endurance. She watched as he swiftly grabbed a large bottle of water from it and jogged back to Jess, handing it to him. Jess quickly took the bottle of water and began chugging it, calming down after he had a good amount of water. She looked at Andre, who quickly looked over to the street as if to look at something.
"We should play basketball more often, man," Jess said, looking up at Andre, who laughed and glanced over at Natoya. She looked back with a raised eyebrow.
"Yeah, for sure," Andre began, throwing the ball at her. "You too, Nat."
She smiled, catching the ball and dribbling it a few times.
She looked at Andre with a soft smile.
"Natoya is a pretty name, by the way."
She quickly looked back over at Jess, feeling her face grow red once more—this time it wasn't from embarrassment, though she wished it were.
"Thank you. Jess is a... handsome name too."
As she looked at Jess, she began to notice smaller features within him too. His hair looked like it had been straightened and groomed. He had a pretty clean face and no signs of any imperfections. His eyebrows were actually well-maintained, and he wore pretty nice clothes.
"...Natoya?" Andre asked, his voice in the form of a question, but it ended with a low note.
"Yeah?" she asked, looking at him. He had a confused look on his face and was looking between her and Jess as if they were from a different planet.
"Your ball?" Andre asked, motioning for her to catch the basketball he was holding. She quickly caught it as he threw it at her, looking back at him with an even more confused look. "You two want to continue our little game?"
"Yeah,"
"Sure," Natoya and Jess said roughly around the same time. She dribbled the ball as they went closer to the basket and shot it into the hoop. "So, which schools are you guys attending?"
"Ugh. I got transferred to Metropolitan High School," Andre replied as if even saying the name was causing him pain. It sounded familiar, but she couldn't remember whether that was the school she would be attending this semester, or whether it was just some school she had ahead of back in New York."Is it not a good school?" she asked, squinting her eyes a little bit and looking over at Andre as he shot a fastball into the hoop.
"Are you kidding me? I have to take pre-algebra this year. Mr. Mornthorn teaches pre-algebra. Last year, almost the entire 8th-grade class failed because he had the most monotone voice ever. And they had him at 8:30 in the morning."
"No wonder his name is Mornthorn," she joked with a bit of a smile. "What about you, Jess? What school are you attending?"Jess laughed. "It's called Oxford Academy. My friends just call it Hell High.""Sounds prestigious—how is your family paying for that?" she asked, impressed by his ability to get into what sounded like such a good school.
Jess hesitated for a second. "...Scholarships, local funding. Stuff like that." Jess's voice trailed off as he took the basketball and shot it into the hoop. But the more she and Andre spoke to him, the more she felt like he wasn't just some neighborhood kid who lived a few miles away. In fact, she was starting to doubt that he even lived in downtown LA. She looked over at Andre, who looked suspicious of Jess as well.
"You must be pretty smart," she said, smiling at Jess as she took the ball and shot it into the basket. Jess didn't really respond to it.
"The only thing that makes you successful in your education is your desire to be successful. Seek out opportunities and study hard, and you'll find yourself successful."
"And have money," Andre added, looking back at her with a look of 'get a load of this guy'. She rolled her eyes at both of them, then tilted her head to Andre."Or just have parents that force you to do well in school," she scoffed, thinking back to her time in New York City. Her mother used to punish her with every B she got until her dad found out, and the two had a huge argument.She remembered that night in great detail.She had just gotten home from school. It was an exhausting day. She got a C on a test, and she walked into the apartment, hearing yelling—which at this point was just background noise. She took her shoes off and set her backpack down, and she saw her dad motioning at her, saying something about the fact that she didn't enjoy her mother's lifestyle either.That dinner, it was revealed that she had gotten a B on her test, and the table exploded with yelling after her mother scolded her and told her to go to her room while her mother thought of a punishment. The last thing she could remember was her dad shouting profanities and leaving.
That same week her mother and dad were constantly gone, and she was generally home alone with a babysitter who seemed just as uncomfortable and conflicted. For the next three years, instead of feeling like she was home any time she visited her dad for the weekends or holidays, she felt more like a houseguest, or a mailman, going from one house to the next and listening to her mother talk trash about her dad, and vice versa.
She was broken out of her thoughts as Jess shot the basketball into the basket, swiftly catching it as it fell out of the net. He handed it to her."Yeah, I suppose that would be a bit of a factor," Andre laughed, watching Jess shoot the ball into the basket.
Natoya then lifted her arm into the air to move her flannel out of the way as she checked the time. It was 6:32, and the group of them had spent quite a lot of time at the park together.
"Nice watch," Andre nodded, tilting his head to look at it.
"May I?" Jess asked, throwing the ball to Andre as he walked over to her side. She stretched out her arm in his direction, and he began to examine the watch. He almost seemed impressed.
"It's a few years old," she awkwardly laughed. "My dad got it for me at ten years old so I would know when he was coming to pick me up.""From school?" Andre asked, jumping up to throw a basketball into the hoop. He made a silent 'Yes' with the last letter spelled out as he made the shot, running to grab the ball before it bounced too far away.
"Aha. Sometimes," she laughed.
"It's 3 hours off," Jess said, checking his phone and cross-matching it with the watch. She looked at it confused, then remembered she had only recently moved from NYC to LA. Jess placed his hand a little above her waist and moved her to the other side of him so he could easily redo the time on the watch, setting it to 3:32 p.m. instead. "There you go."
"Thank you," she smiled, feeling herself become embarrassed and a little bit flustered after having been moved and having the wrong time on her watch. She looked at Andre, who looked like he was paying attention to someone from across the street. She looked over in their direction. They must've noticed, because not two minutes later, they were quickly walking away from the two teenagers who were staring in their direction.
"Anyways," Jess said, snapping both of our attention toward him. "It was a pleasure meeting both of you. I'd better get back."
"Nice meeting you as well," she replied with a smile, directing her comment to both Jess and Andre while she put her hands into her pockets.
"You too," Andre said, looking at Natoya, then Jess, then back at Natoya. "So... You think you're going to stay around this part of LA?"
"Most likely. I hope so," she laughed.
"Mind if I get your phone number...?" he asked with a small tint of awkwardness.
"Oh! Yeah, sure!" she said. She walked over to him, motioned for him to give her his phone, and he pulled it out of his back pocket, turning it on.
"Uh... You know what, do you have a piece of paper?" he asked, looking over at her.
"No..." she said with slight hesitation. "I don't... Do you have a pen?" she asked, suddenly coming up with an idea.
"Here," Jess said, walking over to her and handing her a ballpoint pen. She took it and quickly wrote her phone number on Andre's arm, turning back to Jess as if to ask if he wanted her phone number too.
When he nodded, she motioned for his arm and began to write her phone number on it.
"I'll see you guys later then!" she smiled at both of them.
"See ya."
"Cya."
Jess turned to walk out the way he came. She expected Andre to do the same; however, instead, he began walking in the same direction her apartment was in. She followed shortly behind him until he noticed she was walking in the same direction.
"Oh. You live this way?" Andre and she asked almost at the exact same time. They both laughed while slowly passing a hotel.
"Yeah. Tailor Lofts or something like that," she replied, waiting for the intersection to let them cross.
"Harlington's Apartments," Andre said. "It's a bit of a walk from here, actually."
"Is it?"
Andre and she continued walking down the street, stopping at every intersection as they waited to be able to cross. He told her about various things in the city, about the crime rate in downtown LA, about how LA had one of the highest 'child exploitation' rates in the US.
They passed by a big, dark red brick building where a homeless man was sitting on a stool, next to a cooler with a bag tied around its handles, until they reached another intersection leading down San Pedro—the direction she was heading to—and Sixth Street, the way she assumed Andre was heading.
"Hey. Stay safe, Natoya," Andre said, patting her on the shoulder. The sign across the street began flashing a white man walking, and she quickly crossed the intersection, continuing to walk down San Pedro.
"You too!" she waved before she quickly walked across the street.
She passed several guys leaning against a wall to a Hope Row resource center. She passed several tents camping out next to a brown building, then she passed a creepy building board that said "FIRST YOU WATCH IT. THEN YOU DIE."
Relief filled her lungs as she saw a banner saying TAILOR LOFTS. She relaxed a bit and quickened her pace before she crossed the street and entered the building. It had been a long time since she had this much excitement in her life. And now that she finally had the taste of freedom, she wasn't sure she'd ever let it go.