Fly on the Wall (19 page)

“Yeah, but we're still intimate from time to time,” he explained. “I feel like I owe you at least that.”

“No, no, no more,” I said. “That will never happen again.”

“What did you say, babe?” The words didn't come from Craig, but from Theo, walking toward us with a towel around his waist, pulling his T-shirt over his head. He struggled to get his hands through, and when he accomplished his task, he offered us one word: “Whoa.”

“
Lake?
” Craig was in shock.

“Wassup, Coach?” They couldn't be the words he wanted to say, but they were the first ones that came out.

“Don't what's up me.” He searched Theo with his eyes from the ground up. “What in the hell are you doing here?” Craig looked at me and I had a revenge-is-so-sweet smile on my face. “What in the hell is he doing here with no goddamn clothes on, Paige?”

“As I said a few moments ago, my personal life is off limits to you.” I placed myself between them. “This is really none of your business, Craig.”

“No, this
is
my business. This
is
my goddamn house. I still pay the mortgage here.”

“Mortgage?” I raised my voice. “That alimony check barely keeps my cable on.”

“Is this some kind of a joke?” Craig laughed and asked, “You guys plan this? 'cause I know that what I think is going on can't be fuckin' going on.”

“Why not?” Theo asked.

“Why not? Why not?” Craig pushed past me and walked over to Theo. “Why not? Because I'm the one she wants to be with.”

Theo didn't back down or away. “Obviously not.”

“What in the hell can you do? Get the fuck out of my house.” He turned his back to Theo and yelled at me. “Are you fuckin' him?” He stepped closer to me when I refused to answer. “This is what you resort to when you can't suck my dick?”

“Oh, hell naw!” Theo snatched Craig backward by his collar and pushed him against the wall. “I don't know how you talk to her when I'm not around, but you won't talk to her like that in front of me.”

“You don't know shit about what happens between us when you're not around.” In one big jerk, the tables turned and Craig had Theo pinned against the other wall. He brought his fist upward with a vengeance that took everything inside of him to stop. “Don't you ever put your hands on me again, you wanna-be-grown son of a bitch.” He pushed Theo sharply before letting go.

“Fuck you,” Theo said while sizing him up. “I'm the muthafuckin' man of this house now.”

“Keep talking shit, I'll go to jail tonight.” Craig stepped back. “I would beat the shit out of you right here and right now if it wasn't for my job.”

“Fuck your job. This ain't school. Let's go,” Theo said while going after Craig. “Let's do this.”

“No, baby.” I grabbed him and tried to calm him. “I can't let you do this.”

“Baby?” Craig laughed. “That's right. That's all he is, a big baby.” Craig then directed his attention to me. “Tell me that you're not fucking him.”

“That's none of your business,” Theo defended me.

“I'm talking to my wife.” He spoke to Theo, but kept his eyes fixed on me. “So fuck off.”

“No, you fuck off, Craig.” I pointed at the door. “Get out.”

“You tell your
baby
that I'm still tappin' that ass?” He was furious when he looked at Theo again. “I've fucked her all over this house and in every fuckin' hole she's got.”

“Stop it!” I shouted and hit Craig on his chest with my fist. “Stop, stop it.” I was in total disbelief. “Get the fuck out of my house.” I pointed to the door.

Without moving in the suggested direction, Craig looked at me like I stunk of throw up and stumbled over his words. “I can't believe you.”

“Just get out.” I continued pointing.

Craig walked toward the door. “Just wait until Courtland finds out about this.” His statement hurt more than a million fists.

“Don't do that, Craig.” If one word of this leaked to Principal Courtland, it would surely cost me my job. Ever since I complained to the school board about some of his policies, he'd been hoping to catch me in the wrong, and boy, was I in the wrong. “What about you and Cindy? I'll tell him about that. You know how he feels about fraternization.”

“But at least Cindy isn't thirteen.” He pulled the door open. “Have a good night, kids.”

“Craig, please.”

“Don't beg his ass for shit.” Theo tried to hold on to me, but I had to do what I had to do. I pulled away from him and ran out the door behind Craig. “Craig, please don't do that.”

“Begging now, huh?” He kept walking to his truck. “Unlike you, Paige.”

“Let's just keep this between us.” I tried hard not to yell at him. “Think of all the wrong you've done to me, all of the ways you've hurt me.” I found myself close to tears. “You cheated on me, gave me diseases and didn't care, and I stuck with you. I stuck with your sorry, low-down, filthy ass.” It was true. “I didn't drag your name through the mud like I could've. I never told your friends and family the truth about you.” I finished up. “Please do me this one favor because even though I could've, I never did anything to harm you.”

He opened the door to the truck and looked back at me. “You're pitiful, Paige.”

I guess right now I was, but I wasn't going to act like it. “Fuck you.” I looked him square in the eyes and spoke slowly. “Fuck you.”

“Been there, done that, and it wasn't that long ago.” Craig hopped inside, closed the door, cranked the engine, and was down the street before the tears hit my cheeks. My hands fell to my sides in defeat. My feet dragged painfully on the cement as I walked back toward the house.

Theo's long, lanky body was in the doorway. I pushed past him. “I think you should go.”

“I'm not letting him run me out of here.”

I turned sharply toward him with my hands akimbo. “It's not about you being run out of anywhere.” I paused. “This shit is out of control now.”

“Fuck him.”

“You don't get it.” I looked at him like he was wearing a straightjacket. “If he talks to anyone about this, I will lose my job.”

“So what?” He laughed. All of a sudden he was a comedian. “Teachers don't get paid shit anyway.”

I got in his face—well, a foot below his face. “Well, it's paying the bills here. Can you?” I couldn't believe he was making light of the situation. “I don't want to lose my fuckin' job.” I thought about having to ask my struggling parents for help. “I can't lose my damn job.”

I walked into the kitchen and Theo followed me. “I'm sorry.” He pulled me toward him. “I didn't mean it like that.” His hand ran down the side of my face and fell to my shoulder. “What's done is done. Coach knows. He'll either talk or he won't. We can't control that, but what we can control is what we have.” He smiled.

“Yeah, but what we have is—”

His fingers touched my lips, quieting me. “Let's just keep having it.” He lifted my body and rested me on the kitchen counter, where my lips immediately found his. He whispered, “I swear you got roots on me.”

“You got roots on me too.”

M
y alarm clock screamed and I spent twenty minutes deciding whether to go to school. I didn't know what to expect and how to deal with the unexpected. I was set on staying in bed, until I remembered the terrified look on Paige's face after she walked back into the house from practically begging Coach to keep our secret. I couldn't leave her to cope with things all alone. I quickly jumped out of bed and into the shower.

I wandered into West Dade extra paranoid. I felt like Tupac; all eyes were on me. There was something peculiar about the day—or was it me that was busy making it weird? This was probably the way people gawked at me, the basketball star, on a daily basis, but today I wasn't ready for it. Though I don't consider my relationship with Paige wrong, I felt guilty, and was more scared for her than myself.

I wasn't twelve or thirteen years old like the boys that those teachers I had seen on the news were messing around with. I was eighteen, so technically Paige wasn't doing anything illegal, just something that most considered unethical. Also, like she said, if this all got turned inside out, she would be left without a job. She probably wouldn't be able to teach again, but I would still be a student.

 

 

“Mr. Wallace?” a voice from the main office poured into my third period class through the intercom.

He turned into Mr. Nice Guy. “This is Mr. Wallace.” Mr. Wallace always talked to the P.A. system with a smile. I don't think that he understood that they couldn't see his always grumpy ass.

“Is Theodore Lakewood in class today?” the voice asked.

“Ah,” he looked around the room and into my eyes, “Yes, yes, he's here.”

“Will you please allow him to go to the athletics office to see Coach Johnson?”

“Yes.” He smiled and gestured to me with his frail hand. “No problem. He's on his way.”

“Thank you.”

Mr. Wallace frowned at me. “Theodore, if this takes the entire period, please bring paperwork tomorrow with a signature and a time stamped on it.” He turned his attention back to the class as I gathered my things. “Okay, back to the Civil War era . . .”

I had butterflies. No, crows . . . no, I had eagles soaring in my stomach. However, though I was nervous, I was ready to get the shit over with, and I wasn't going down without a fight. I had enough adrenaline pumping within me to take on the Miami Heat all by myself and still win by nine points.

I stood in front of the athletic office for a few seconds before turning the knob. There weren't any school officials, principal, or counselor in there like I assumed. As always, the room was full of paper, balls, chairs, and trophies.

“I'm in the back.” My heart sank as Coach's raspy voice called out. I made my way to what we called the conference room and was relieved to see him at the round table all alone.

“Close the door and have a seat.”

I did as he asked. “Wassup?” I tried not to sound intimidated or nervous, but if he had screamed or made a sudden move, I might've had a big brown mark in my boxers that Tide, All, and Whisk couldn't play with.

“We need to talk.”

I snapped, “Look, this whole thing is nobody's business.”

He couldn't look at me. “I want to talk to you about your future.”

“My future?” I asked. “What about my future?”

“Lake, if you want to go somewhere in basketball, the relationship you're carrying on can be a detriment.”

“How?”

“If the media learns about it, they'll eat you up and take away any chance you have of playing in the NBA.”

“What, you gonna tell 'em?” I tried to act tough. “Tell 'em. I don't give a shit.”

“Don't be stupid.”

I was desperate for information. “Did you tell Principal Courtland?”

“ No. ”

“Why not? You said you would.” I wanted him to believe that I wasn't afraid of his threats.

“Lake, stop all of this hardcore bullshit, okay?” He leaned back in his chair. “I was upset. You can understand that, can't you?” He looked away. “She's my ex-wife, for fuck's sake.” He sighed and then manned up and stared at me. “You come out of nowhere, half-naked, with a damn towel barely covering ya dick.” He shook his head and stood up. “Look, I don't like it, but it's your life. It's her life. But if you want to get into the NBA, you better fuckin' put that shit on hold until after the draft.” He added, “It just doesn't sit right with me, and if anybody else gets word of it, you're toast.”

“It's not illegal,” I said. “I'm an adult.”

“You're a high school student and a star basketball player,” Coach reminded me. “And your ass is an inch away from being a second round pick, if that.”

“I'm not a second round pick and you know it.”

“No, no you're not, but you can easily become one.” He tried to calm down. “If not until the draft, can't you two at least put water on it until graduation?”

“Why?” I raised my voice. “The NBA is about skill, not personal life.”

“But this will drown out your skills. The media will turn this relationship of yours into your only accomplishment and a goddamn circus.”

“Look at Kobe, Iverson, and J. Kidd. Everybody has problems.”

“Yeah, look at 'em,” he said. “But they were already in the NB-fuckin'-A when the problems developed. They didn't bring the shit with them. C'mon, it's the first of February. You graduate in a little over four months. Can't you at least stop this until then?”

I thought of asking to be transferred from her class, not calling her, not seeing her, and not talking to her for almost five months, and compared it to the way I felt about basketball. The way my heart leapt when I ran down the court, it was my first love, but strangely, so was she.

“I can't.” It was the first time I had put anything or anybody before that orange piece of synthetic leather.

“We have five more games, Lake,” he begged. “Can you do it until then?”

“We've played twenty games this season and lost only two.” I was standing on my word. “She has nothing to do with my game.”

Coach went on, “We've worked too hard for this, Lake. For four years, I've busted my ass for you. If it weren't for you, I would've transferred away from here long ago. I want this for you. I want to see you go far.” He continued, and things got strange real fast. “You have the opportunity I always dreamed of, the chance I wanted but didn't get. You need to do this.” Then he delivered the real jaw dropper.

“I love you. I feel like you're my boy.” He paused uncomfortably. “You're like my son.” I had never heard those words from a man, before so it was hella weird. “We've come too far together, Lake.”

Who would've thought that my closest experience to having a father would be with a man who wanted to pull my balls through my nostrils at Paige's house? This definitely wasn't the unexpected that I expected.

“Coach.” I didn't know what was about to come out of my mouth. “I'm grateful to you for all that you've done throughout the years to get me to where I am.” I paused. “I'm sorry about what you walked in on. I could only imagine how it made you feel, but I've never let you down in the past. Even when you doubted me, my decision was always right. Please trust me. This time won't be any different. I won't let you down. I promise.” I couldn't look at him when I continued, and he knew why. “I've held onto enough of your secrets. You owe this to me.”

He looked at me with disappointment in his eyes and threw his hands up. We both said no more words for about four minutes. He just stared at me, and I right back at him.

“All right, Lake, all right.” He sat down and then said, “Let's get down to business . . .”

We discussed the summer months and my possible workouts with various teams. My decision was the NBA, and only he and my mom knew. I was holding it from the media, just as Bill Clinton said when asked why he had sexual relations with Monica Lewinsky, because I could. Honestly, I enjoyed hearing Stephen Smith and Stewart Scott go back and forth on ESPN about what they thought I should do and where I might go.

“No more being late to practice?”

“All right.” I promised him at least that. “Deal.”

At the end of what became an hour-long meeting, Coach J. and I shook hands. Nothing else needed to be said about Paige; it was a closed chapter. However, when I was free to roam the halls, she was the only person I wanted to see. I ran to her classroom and opened the door as she was writing something on the board. The room was filled with students.

“Ms. Patrick, I have a message for you from the main office.”

She looked at me nervously and bit into her bottom lip. “What is it?” she asked as she walked toward me.

I stepped back so that she'd have to come outside. “Coach J. called me down to his office earlier,” I whispered.

Her eyes nearly touched me from a few feet away. “What?” She closed the door behind her. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” I smiled. “He actually apologized.”

“Craig?” she asked in shock.

“Yeah.” I continued, “I'll tell you everything later.”

“Oh my goodness.” Her hands rushed to her mouth and I literally watched the worry melt from her beautiful face. “I'm so relieved.” She really was. “Oh, I wish I could hug you.” She kept her voice low.

I stared at her lips and had to hold myself back from leaning toward her. “Get back in there. I'll see you later.”

“I can't wait.” Still staring at me, she hesitated a bit then pulled the door open and pointed at the board. “Okay, you all should have this copied by now, so I'll explain the assignment.”

 

 

“I start a second job tomorrow,” Mom said.

“What?” I didn't even know she was looking. “Where?”

“At a clinic in Kendall.” She stirred her coffee. “Just on Saturdays for the extra money.”

I felt bad about not being able to work because of my practices and games. “I thought we were all right financially.”

“Well,” she smiled, “I want to get you a publicist, a lawyer, and whatever else you need if we're going to do this thing right, baby.”

“What's a publicist?” Kevin asked.

“Someone who'll make sure that everyone knows Theo's name.”

My little brother never stopped. “You mean like know how to spell it?”

Mom giggled. “No, their job is to get him interviews on TV and on the radio and schedule him at different gatherings.”

“Oh, like to make him famous?” he asked.

“There you go.” She held her hand out to him. “Gimme five.”

“Aw, Mom.” I knew that a publicist would be helpful, but I didn't think I needed one. I already had all the interviews I could handle. “I'm doing fine without one.”

“No.” She sipped her coffee. “We want to create a more structured image of you.”

“Oh boy, a more structured image.” I smiled and stuffed a piece of toast in my mouth. “I didn't know that you were getting a second job to be able to get one, though.”

“It won't be for long, just until you get on your feet in the industry.” She smiled and touched my hand. “I want to do what I can for you now before you meet some girl that starts telling you that I'm around you too much.”

“Never that.” I leaned forward, pinched her cheek, and tried to change the topic. She always got depressed when she thought of me depending on someone other than her. “What are your hours?”

She seemed happy about it. “I go in at—”

My cell phone rang. “Damn,” I said under my breath. I thought it was on vibrate. She shot me a mean look, the same evil stare she gave me whenever the mysterious cellular phone chimed.

“Oh, and don't think that I don't remember that you never told me where that cell phone came from.”

“I told you.” I jumped up from the table and ran to my room.

“No, you didn't. You said that it belonged to your friend!” she yelled. “If it belongs to a friend, then give it back to them.”

“Right!” I screamed back toward the kitchen and then answered. “Hello?”

“Good morning.” Paige was just like sunshine. I knew to expect her.

I sat on my bed with a goofy-ass grin on my face. “Good morning.”

“Enjoying your day off?” she asked.

“Of course I am.” Then I asked, “What about you?”

“It's the teacher's workday. I have to work, remember?” she complained.

“That's why they pay you the big bucks,” I teased. “Would you like lunch?”

“I'd love lunch, but I can't have you buzzing around here,” she joked. “You're too damn tall. You'll stick out like a giraffe in a herd of sheep.”

I thought up something clever. “What about breakfast?”

She giggled. “It's a quarter to twelve right now.”

“I meant tomorrow morning.” She knew what I was asking, being that it was Friday.

“Sure.” The phone went silent. “I'd love to see you tonight.”

“How was I last night?”

“Amazing.” She went on. “That last three-pointer was off the hook.”

The entire game was great. “You liked that, huh?”

“Yes, I did.”

“You liked anything else?” Whatever her answer was would quench my thirst.

“You know I love to watch you play.” She sighed then continued. “I can't believe that it's February. There are only three more games left. I hate to see the season go.”