I spied Angela from across the court and her eyes were already on me, beaming with anxious enthusiasm. I’d wished there was a way I could ask her where was her guy. I thought to send a text, but quickly retracted that idea, as we weren’t allowed to use our phones in the gym. By ten minutes after seven, there were nearly fifteen people in the gym; perhaps four women, but mostly men.
It eventually became clear to me who was who. Most of the basketball players were amazons with the exception of this one spirited and loquacious short man. He was short, and I don’t mean NBA short, but even layman short. He could be no more than 5’ 7”, but he was fast! I mean, he moved with extreme speed when passing and shooting. Those giants moved like zombies compared to him. And between each successful play he’d have a loud and often brash comment to follow it up.
One of the things I kept hearing him call out was the word stentro. I didn’t know what that was, but when he stood still, he’d hold his crotch in some form and often say, stentro. It wasn’t until nearly two hours after their arrival that I’d caught on. A ball went out of bounds and this time Angela went to fetch it.
“Steeeenton,” she purred rather loudly, I’m sure to gain his attention.
One of the giants stopped and turned to her. Angela tossed the ball with a girlie flicking of the wrist. The basketball barely made it over to him, but he picked it up and graciously thanked her.
“You’re welcome, Stent,” Angela shouted sexily again, curving her body into an “S” shape.
Hmmmm…so that’s Stenton Rogers?
Things from that point on were pretty eventless. By Tuesday, I regretted taking on this quest with Angela. When Wednesday rolled around, Angela asked to stay until after the guys were through changing in the locker rooms. I didn’t want to; I was tired and preferred catching my daily nap. Nonetheless, I’d agreed.
“Oop-oop!” Angela jumped in place while we stood in the hall right outside of the men’s locker room. “Here he comes! C’mon,” she whispered rapidly with the least amount of conspicuity as she could, then pulled me by the arm and sashayed over to where the men were exiting.
“Oh, look at this,” the short guy with almond skin similar to mine tapped Stenton Rogers on the arm. “It’s the two caddies.” He did his usual groping of himself as he laughed at his own joke.
I looked up to the tree—towering man, Stenton Rogers, and my eyes quickly averted from his glower. I know I must’ve looked all of eleven years old with that move, but my eyes couldn’t stand to look at him for long now that he was in my face. It was like looking directly at the sun on the brightest day.
“Heeeeeey, guys!” Angela sang. “We just came by on our way out to say good day training earlier. I see your passing technique has improved.”
I glanced over at her with the look of death. I didn’t know anything about basketball, but had sense enough to know you didn’t critique professionals when you didn’t play.
I watched the flirtatious grin that played at her lips as she pouted them mischievously.
“We ‘bout to get into some business thangs, but later we gonna have a few drinks with some buddies of ours. You ladies are more than welcome to join us,” the short one offered greasily then swiped his tongue over his lips.
I saw the way he sized up my breasts and Angela’s thighs respectively. It made me incredibly uncomfortable. What was more disconcerting was Angela jumping at the opportunity. She literally jumped to face me, begging me to agree. I couldn’t believe she bought that as an appropriate invitation.
“I have class tonight,” I reminded her.
Within a beat, Angela squinted her eyes at me, clearly seething at my response. This was for her. I enrolled in this stupid program for her. She was up close and in Stenton Rogers’ face. Here was her opportunity and if this weak and disingenuous invitation was it, she’d be taking the rest of the journey alone.
“What time and where?” Angela whipped her head back to them and eagerly asked.