Tongue Kiss the Chocolate off my Stomach

Clio

What us? There is no us.

We made it back in time for me to throw on a sport's bra and some shorts and carry my tired ass back to basketball practice. Still a little dizzy--because apparently, chloroform isn't all that nice on the body--I had to have Vic drive me to practice. Jace found a way here all on his own.

What us? There is no us.

I chunk the ball at the goal, hands shaking. I've never been so embarassed in my life. Not when I was rejected in front of the whole school. Not when I got caught streaking on the courtyard. Not even when I got so scared I accidentally peed myself (hey, there were guys bursting into classroom with guns, so sue me. I wasn't the only one either. And I was twelve). But never have I felt the heart-shaking despair, the constant redness, and the falling stomach from bveing so damn embarassed.

What us? There is no us.

Gene passes me the ball, looking concerned. "Clio? You alright?"

"Oh, I'm fine," I answer breezily, tears collecting in the corners of my eyes. Jace is walking in right now, looking for all the world like he doesn't care. And he doesn't. Jace has zero damns to give about anybody but himself. And it wouldn't hurt so bad if I had thought that, just for a moment, I mattered a tiny bit more than those other girls. Just a little bit.

"You sure?"

"Yep." I drive up to the goal, stopping, shooting. The ball connects with the goal. The swish of it going through the net reminds me that I have to pull on my big girl panties for at least the next two and half hours and practice hard.

What us? There is no us.

Gene doesn't believe, not for a minute, but she stays on this side of the court with me, pitching balls at me left and right so I can shoot. Coach said we were simply spot-up shooters. Both of us are the best at putting up a three-pointer on the team. It's good to know that I'm not a defensive threat or anything, Coach.

The whistle blows.

I trot in behind Gene, pushing the balls off the court. Coach tells us a small story, and then starts practice. "Alright guys, I'm gonna separate ya'll into groups of four. We have our first game in two weeks, and I need to know who can do what. Teamp captains: Jace, Gene, Luke, and Clio."

We step out into a line and let him pair us off with four other people. I have James, Chris, Shane, and Louis on my team. Three tall boys, and a slightly taller than me boy in James. Coach calls for my group to go up first, against Jace's group.

"Jace, your team plays skins."

"Aw, Coach," James complains, "why can't we play skins?" He nudges me in the side. "I'm sure Clio wouldn't mind!"

I shrug. "I'm fine with skins."

Coach rolls his eyes. "Just play."

James and Jace jump against each other. The ball lands in my hand. I fly down the court, people on my tail. I played against the NBA players the House had. I have pretty good handles. Especially for a ball's boy.

We switch off and Jace ends up guarding me.

What us? There is no us.

His eyes are calm and wild at the same time. A grin crosses his face. "You look mad."

What us? There is no us?

I drive in, pulling the ball back at the last moment. He stops, trying to get to me, but I quickly cross over to the left hand. He trips, and I shoot a floater into the net. swish.

"OHHHHHHHHHHH!" the others yell.

I hold out my hand. "Get up."

What us? There is no us.

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

I wipe sweat from my face as my team demolishes Jace's, 15-5, counting by ones. I take a deep breath, guzzling water as the other teams take the court. My heart is pounding. I was already sleepy.

Coach gives me a high five happily. "Good work, Clio."

I nod, sitting on the floor. Jace follows, sitting next to me, long legs crossed Indian style. I ignore him, watching intently, criticizing certain motions and movements, cheering on Gene because we girls have to stick together.

"So, you not gone talk to me, Clio? You upset or somethin'?"

I shrug, eyes on the court, face turning red. "I'm not upset. On the contrary, I'm quite happy with not having to settle down. Girls just wanna have fun after all.... GOOD JOB, GENE!"

"You're loud."

"So I've been told." I still don't look at him.

"Clio, look at me. Don't be mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you."

"Then who are you mad at?"

"Nobody." But myself anyway.

"Huh." He watches me curiously. I can feel his eyes on me. I wonder if he liked what he saw. Prolly didn't. Would explain why he wouldn't want me anymore. "You seem mad to me."

I shrug. Gene makes an exceptionally good pass. I cheer her on, committing the move to memory.

"So, if you're not mad, then you would want to take me to the store after practice to pick up somethin' to cook."

"Sure."

He makes a noise in the back of his throat like he doesn't believe that I'm not mad at him. And I'm not. I'm mad at myself more than anybody. Why did I have to allow myself to be whisked away by a handsome Indian man?

"Wait, no!" I explain, remembering suddenly. "Mama said I had to be home to fix the room for the new boy."

His eyebrow arches. "New boy? Who is it?"

I shrug. "I dunno." Gene's team wins then and I stand, ready for the final show-down. Winner gets to go home. Loser runs for the next ten minutes.

It's a close game from start to finish. Gene is taller than me and able to defend me better, but I'm quicker. I poke the ball away multiple times to open teammates. I steal passes and play good defense, better offense. The score is 14-14, and my team has the ball. I see Chris slip free of somebody and towards the goal. I pass him the ball, more like a lob actually. He jumps, throwing it down with a rim-rattling flourish.

"Yes!" I cheer, fist pumping.

Gene laughs. "Coach, I wanna play for her team next time!"

"Don't you play for her team already, Gene?" Jace asks, high-fiving me.

Gene rolls her eyes.

Coach calls my team over and dismisses us, calling me over to the side. "I like what you've done as a point guard. Have you ever played that position before?"

I shake my head. "I've never played basketball on a team before, Coach."

He nods. "Well, it's a fine time to learn. You'll play point guard in our first game, coming off the bench. Here's another thing: can you play with Jace? I want him starting as center, and I feel like you could get some good plays for him. Some lobs."

I sigh. "I can play with'em."

"You sure? You two don't seem to like each other."

I laugh. "Coach, Jace doesn't like anybody. We'll be fine, though. We can get along well enough."

He nods. "Alright. Go home and get some sleep, Clio. You look like you need it."

"Thanks, Coach."

<3 <3 <3 <3

I'm just getting out the shower when the new kid arrives. He follows Mama, a scowl on his face. Tall, tattooed, slender but slightly muscular, and that look like he wants to kill someone. Basically the kind of person we always get.

I paste a tired smile on my face. "Hi, I'm--"

"Bitch, get out my face." He walks past me, glaring.

I look at Mama. She smiles at me, equally as tired. "Don't even fight it tonight."