Layla
On the day of the game, Layla decided to wear the Lakers leather jacket 90’s. She paired it with a basic purple top and some shorts with black heels.
Mateo got the girls court side tickets. Onika came to Celia’s and Layla’s place early and dumped her makeup and clothes on Celia’s bed. They got ready together; it was not an unpleasant time.
The girls drove there together. There was lot of traffic and a lot of people heading there. When they arrived, it was crowded and a lot of people started taking pictures of Onika, who wasn’t even slightly fazed by the amount of phones pointed at her.
The girls sat for a while before the players came out; the arena filled up quickly. The players started their pregame workout about an hour before the game. Jess and Kione mirror each other step by step in the way that people who learned everything together did.
They start with dribbling drills on their handles, then one legged free throws where Mateo joined them, then the three start to really show off to the point where everyone is worked up and cheering them on. They shoot threes from every area in court. Mateo posed for multiple pictures, and then they do full court shots. Mateo and Kione end up dancing to Gasolina while Jess shoots his shot. They try to get Jess to join, but he blushed and shyly shook his head. They still danced around him and he shook his head, his smile bright.
They do a lot more things that she couldn’t name; she knew the previous steps because Jess had explained the routine to her in his attempt to convince her to let him teach her to play. Those were the ones that stuck.
Celia and Onika went to get drinks and nachos. The next thing Layla knew, a ball landed right in front of her, like someone kicked it there. Kione made his way in front of her and sat down to tie his shoes. He looked up; they were close enough that she could hear him speak.
“So, have you seen him naked yet?”
“What?”
“Jess, have you ever seen him naked?”
“No,” she said, confused.
“I have. Lots of times.” He finished tying his shoes, but he was still on his knees.
“Good for you?”
“I heard you were painting people, so I thought you should know if you want to paint him I think nude would be best.”
“I—”
“He gets flushed pretty easily, you know? So when he comes out of the shower, he’s pink all over. You would have to use that.”
“Use what?” she asked, aware of the blush tainting her cheeks, aware of the way her body quickly started to heat.
“Pink. For the color palette. Keep up, Mubarak.”
“Oh, okay.” She nodded. This was the wrong place for the thoughts that filled her head, and she desperately needed a cold shower.
When Layla looked up, she found Jess glaring at his best friend. Kione laughed and Jess stepped away from him, shoving him out of the way. Kione was still chuckling.
Throughout the game, she tried to keep up. Onika filled her in when she didn’t understand something, but she mostly watched Jess. He played center and, at some point when he scored, he didn’t just slam it in past defense; he played the two defenders on him with such finesse they were still wondering where the ball went for a few seconds after.
The Lakers win against the warriors that day. She was surprised to find that she enjoyed the atmosphere, and would have enjoyed it more if it wasn’t for stupid Kione with his stupid words.
Layla received a good amount of creepy DMs the next day.
Layla to the audience: I know it doesn’t look good. First, I’m photographed with Jess with a ring on my finger and in a very date-like setting, then I’m photographed with Kione and it looked like he took me shopping because I kept making him hold my things. Take into account that there were already rumors a while back about me and Matty because it’s not like platonic relationships exist, right? So now I’m at their game again and Kione comes up and starts talking to me and I’m blushing and then the two players who are never not grinning when they’re together are shown and one of them looks so pissed at the other.
⸻
After the game, Layla met Jess near his car. He had asked her to wait for him and he found that he really liked that this woman sat through the whole game just to watch him, even though she doesn’t know a lot about the game, that she matched her clothes to his team, and that she waited for him.
“Kione and I were talking about you,” she blurted as they got in the car. Jess tilted his head to the side.
“Inappropriate things. We said inappropriate things,” she said. The full picture became a lot less blurry and he was reminded that his best friend was a sneaky fucker.
“What did you say?” he asked, smiling.
“He said he’s seen you naked.” Layla wouldn’t look him in the eye.
“That’s true.”
“And that you get flushed and turn pink when you leave the shower. I just thought you should be aware of what we said because if you don’t, it’s weird.”
“It’s fine, Layla. I hope you liked the picture he painted.”
“You’re both very annoying,” she informed him curtly.
Jess to the reader: we get that a lot, for some reason.
“So I was thinking,” he signed.
“God save us.”
“You’re not even religious,” he reminded her.
“I keep forgetting.”
“So anyway, I wanted to teach you a couple of things about basketball and then you and I could have a little competition of who can get more shots and I could win and hold it over you for the rest of eternity.”
⸻
There were about two or three days between each game the team played, accompanied by traveling and all that mess. Layla knew he didn’t have a lot of time, but he would sneak in whatever he could. She watched all of their games when they weren’t in LA.
As soon as he got some free time, they installed a basket in her yard. Layla sat and watched him install it. There was a small debate in her head of whether she should tell him she missed him terribly, but the nice words wouldn’t leave her mouth.
Layla to the audience: speaking of my mouth…
She thought about the kiss all the time. She had a feeling he had left the ball in her court and she was panicking over what to do with it and where it should go now.
“Ok, the first thing is you need to make sure your form is correct.” He started moving her around, adjusting her ‘form’. “Tilt your feet because you want your dominant side shoulder to be almost facing the basket.”
Layla had a small suspicion that Jess was holding back on tricks and secrets to master basketball, and yes, maybe she wasn’t listening to everything he said and instead opted to watch his biceps move but still she could feel his smug soul holding back so that he could win.
She got zero out of thirty shots. Jess was trying and failing to hold back from laughing.
Layla to the reader: looking back at the situation, I think I may have taken it a bit too seriously, but in my defense I prefer the feeling of winning as I think I’ve lost enough.
Layla decided to call the one person she didn’t want to call, the person who was taught alongside Jess.
His best friend.
