Previously known as Secrets // Kyrie Irving.
In honor of my thirteen-year-old self, I have kept the book as I first wrote it. No edits, no changes, no adaptations. So, if you so please, come join the adventures of Kyrie Irving and company as they t...
"Mom!" I exclaim, rushing to give her a hug, disregarding the stares I get from the few people in the small coffee shop.
"Baby!" She says, with equal enthusiasm. "Look at you!"
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I laugh lightly and lead her over to our table. "Thank you, mom, but look at you!" She does look great for being almost fifty. Her skin in still youthful and her smile reaches her eyes. I know this past year has been really hard for her, she lost her job and had some troubles with her ex-husband, not Steve.
We order and I sink back into the booth with a sigh.
"How have you been, baby girl?"
I shake my head, my eyes wide, giving a breathy laugh. "Crazy." She waits for me to continue, but I'm not quite sure how. My phone buzzes against my pocket. "Well... uhm... Kyrie Irving, and I have been talking a little bit lately. And I'm really, really excited, you know he's always been my favorite basketball player. But then Klay came back in my life and what if I made the wrong choice in breaking up with him?"
"You've always been the one with the boy problem," she laughs at herself. "Are you and Kyrie dating?" I shake my head. "So you're just talking."
"Yes."
"Shouldn't you wait till he asks you out or something before actually considering him or Klay. You know Klay, you dated him, even if only for a little while. You only know what the media tells you about Kyrie. I don't think its fair for either of them for you to decide now."
It feels so weird to be talking about me with either. Like how did I end up debating between two of the NBA'S finest players?
I shake my head ruefully, giving an exasperated laugh. It's crazy. It's all crazy. Would I still have met Kyrie if my dad wasn't Steve Kerr? Would I have met Klay?
Seven hours later, I'm sitting midway in the stands for game four of the NBA finals at the Q. My stomach already twisting. If we win this, we could take a 3-1 lead. No ones ever come back from a 3-1 deficit. And we could do it without Kyrie and Kevin. Imagine the party in Cleveland if that happened. A smile comes to my face just thinking of it.
Kyrie-
Game four. Here we go. All the guys give me a slap on the back as they start the jog LeBron leads out the tunnel. I miss that run. With my knee, the doctors don't want me move to quickly. They barely agreed to let come to these games. And only then it was because these two games are in Cleveland, it's undecided whether or not I can go to the Oracle Games.
How bad would it be if I went even if they say no? I make my way through the tunnel, finally, and am greeted with loud cheers from the fans. All glad to see me recovering...somewhat. I don't think any of them have any clue how bad it hurts sometimes. And when it's not the actually physical pain, I can get really depressed, but I have to force myself out of those slumps. They will only hurt me in the long run.
I scan the packed crowd in a almost futile attempt to find the girl I'm looking for. I won't find her now, not among the twenty thousand people standing and clapping and hollering. Not now but maybe later.
Half hour later, the entire arena is standing as player introductions begin. It's so loud as our announcer yells the team names, I swear the building is actually shaking. Cleveland fans know what it's like to be deprived of things to cheer for. When our opportunity arises, none can match our spirit.
The start of the tip off, Mozgov against Green. Tristan gets it and LeBron comes down, catches and shoots a fade away. Miss. You can actually hear the crowd groan and we are only twenty seconds into the game. It doesn't last long, though. Tristan tips it in and the place erupts. How long can the crowd possibly keep this up? I wonder, remorse wafting through me as I think of how I could've been out there. I should have been out there, driving to the basket. I forcefully push these thoughts from my mind to focus on the game. My team.
End of first quarter, we are down 24-31. Nail biting has begun. You don't want to give the Warriors a lead.
After a very painful second quarter, we whittled down the Warriors' lead to only ten. The crowd has slowly cleared out, probably waiting in painfully long bathroom lines. I scan the arena once more seeing if Sabrina is there but with doubts weighing on my mind. Well. Shock of all shocks. There she is, sitting in virtually the same place as last time and staring at me with a pretty little smirk resting on her face. I'm gone.
Of course, no one else can know that, because then I would never live it down. But she got me wrapped around her finger pretty quick.
I never texted her. Crap. I think suddenly. It wasn't that I forgot, because she hasn't really left my mind. I just keep second guessing myself. Cautiously, I lift up my hand and wave at her before turning to head to the locker room.
We all sit on the benches, listening to David tell us a game plan. Keep ourselves focused, we'll be fine. I try to subtly reach into my pocket at grab my phone, turning it on. I glance around the room, but nobody is really paying attention to me. We have a pretty strict"no cell-phones during game time" policy and unfortunately that extends to injured players.
I open up messages and scroll past all the contacts of my teammates and our group chats to get to Sabrina's.
K: Hey! Saw you out there! You enjoying the game?
She leaves me on read for awhile, then finally the little bubbles pop up, only to disappear again. That's just evil. Finally:
S: I am actually :) Wish you were playing though, all my Irving jerseys are just going to waste.
K: Not for long! I'll be back. I'll be better too!
"Ahem," I hear David clear his throat loudly. "Kyrie. There would seem to be an iPhone out of place." Scattered chuckles roll through the room. I hang my head, not because I'm embarrassed but because I'm trying to see what she said. Before I can see more than a word, David swoops in and grabs the phone out of my hand. "Pay attention next time, Ky. Just because you won't be playing does not mean this isn't important."
We lost the game 103-82, Cleveland fans leaving the Q with their heads shaking. The series is now tied 2-2 and virtually anything can happen. And we are going back to Oracle.
Sabrina waits till the arena is mostly clear, then bounds down to where I am.
"Hi,"
"Hey," I say, a smile forcing it's way to my face, despite a loss.
"You never answered my text!" She looks clearly stumped. I feel the heat rising to my cheeks.
"Yeah, uhm, sorry about that..." I rub the back of my neck. "I kinda got my phone confiscated in the locker room. We have a no phone rule."
