Once Upon A Dime (hiatus)

20. Bryant and Bets

Twenty seconds left in the last quarter.

Odom passes to Kobe. Stolen by Gordon. #1 Farmar steals back, dribbles down to the hoop. Ten seconds.

The score is tied; 97 to 97. Charlotte's Bobcats versus the Los Angeles Lakers. They're hot, they're sweaty, they're tired. They want to give up.

Options are dwindling down. It seems there's not one man open that isn't being covered or picked.

Farmar sees Bryant. He passes. Three. Bryant dribbles up to do a lay up! Not a good move, considering the buildings of people that are structured around him. Two.

He goes in for the shot.

One.

....

"Fuck! God, no! I was sure they weren't going to win!"

I double over in feigned pain, and roll around next to the coffee table. Kendall, on the other hand, has lost it completely. He's sprawled across the couch, dry wheezing his laughter. His body makes an awful trembling motion, although no sound comes out. His face flushes a deep maroon, and his eyes slam shut in the inability to contain his amusement.

Serves him right, the bastard. I'll be lucky if he falls over and dies, right here and now.

The next time Kobe Bryant is in my little town in upstate Washington, I'm going to be sure to punch him right in the balls.

"Th-that's it! 99 to 97! You lose!" He manages to retain his moderate composure, and he drags me up to the couch with one arm. I plop down next to him, a grumpy red covering my face. "Now, I believe you owe me something."

"You..."  My eyes bulge in mock horror, and I slowly turn to face him. His eyes pull off a sinister quality, and he grins evilly. "P-please..."

"Nope! So sorry! You were sure the Lakers were gonna lose. Now, I believe it's time for you to pay up your half of the bet." He crosses his arms proudly in front of him. "And maybe later, we'll even get burgers. My treat."

"You spawn of Satan." I gawk at him, rising from my quite seductive position at his side, and trampling into the kitchen. There's no way that he could actually make me....

".... with Jenny?" Dad's familiar voice rings out, and I stop in my tracks. I peer around the dividing wall that separates the kitchen and the living room, only to see Kenny and Pop shaking hands.

"Y-yeah..." He mutters incoherently, scratching at his clavicle. I've seen him do that enough to realize that that's a nervous tick of his. I'll have to tease him about it later.

Oh, and that his middle name is fucking Muriel.

"Sit down, son." He smiles vaguely, a distraught and wary feeling escaping from his eyes. What could he possibly be... "Jenny likes you a lot, y'know boy."

"Oh, well. That's good. I'm... crazy about her." He smacks his tongue atop his teeth, searching frantically around the room for something to help get out of his current situation. Thank God he doesn't find me eavesdropping, or I'd be as good as toast!

"I'd hope so..." Dad narrows his eyes, scrounging around on Kenny's face for any sign of emotion. "But if I find out that you've hurt her again, boy.... There will be some consequences."

His tone of voice makes me gasp, and I quickly cover my mouth with my sweaty palm. Dad is... threatening him?! Why?!

"N-no! I wouldn't-"

"You won't." Dad affirms, dropping his gaze to the now muted television set. "You were watchin' the game?"

"Y-yeah.." He murmurs, glancing back at the screen where multitudes of different players are shaking hands.