and pulled me, somehow, impossibly closer, wrapping both his arms fully around my waist, and then he shook his head and said, even as he was smiling, “That wasn’t funny. That was a terrible joke.”
“I know. I’m sorry,” I said, and laughed. “You just make me so nervous.”
“I do?”
I nodded.
I felt him inhale, his chest rising with the movement. He said nothing, but I heard the slight shake in his breath as he blew it out.
24
Twenty-Four
Navid really came through for me that night.
He bought me an extra hour after the crowds cleared out so that I could go off on my own, somewhere, with Ocean.
“One hour, that’s it,” he said. “That’s all I can swing. It’s already late and if I get you home any later than eleven, Ma will kill me. Okay?”
I just smiled at him.
“Uh-uh. No,” he said, and shook his head. “No smiling. I will be back here in exactly one hour, and no smiling. I want your happiness level to be, like, medium, when I come back here. If you have too much fun I’ll end up having to kick someone’s ass.” He looked at Ocean. “Listen,” he said, “you seem like a nice guy, but I just want to be clear: if you hurt her, I will fucking murder you. Okay?”
“Navid—”
“No, no, it’s okay.” Ocean laughed. “It’s fine. I get it.”
Navid studied him. “Good man.”
“Bye,” I said.
Navid raised an eyebrow at me. Finally, he left.
Ocean and I were suddenly alone in the parking lot, and though the moon was a mere crescent in the sky, it was beautiful and bright. The air smelled fresh and icy and like a particular type of vegetation I’d never learned the name of, but the scent of which seemed to come alive only in the late evenings.
The world felt suddenly full of promise.
Ocean walked me to his car and it was only after I was buckled in that I realized I’d never asked him where we were going. Part of me didn’t even care. I would’ve been happy to just sit in his car and listen to music.
He told me then, without my asking, that we were going to a park.
“Is that okay?” he said, and glanced at me. “It’s one of my favorite places. I wanted to show it to you.”
“That sounds great,” I said.
I rolled down the window when he started driving and leaned out, my arms resting on the open ledge, my face resting on my arms. I closed my eyes and felt the wind rush over me. I loved the wind. I loved the scent of the night air. It made me happy in a way I could never explain.
Ocean pulled into a parking lot.
There were gentle, grassy hills in the distance, their soft contours lit by dim uplights. The park seemed vast, like it went on and on, but it was clearly closed for the day. The thing that made the whole thing shine, however, were the bright lights from the adjacent basketball court.
It wasn’t impressive. The court looked weathered, and the hoops were missing nets. But there were a couple of tall streetlamps, which made the space seem imposing, especially this late at night. Ocean turned off his car. Everything was suddenly black and milky with distant, diffused light. We were silhouettes.
“This was where I first learned to play basketball,” he said quietly. “I come here when I feel like I’m losing my mind sometimes.” He paused. “I’ve been coming back here a lot, lately. I keep trying to remember that I didn’t always hate it.”
I studied his face in the darkness.
There was so much I wanted to say, but this seemed like such a sensitive topic for him that I also wanted to be careful. I didn’t know if what I wanted to say was the right thing to say.
Eventually, I said it anyway.
“I don’t get it,” I said, “why do you have to play basketball? If you hate it, can’t you just—I don’t know? Stop?”
Ocean smiled. He was looking straight out the windshield. “I love that you would even say that,” he said. “You make it sound so simple.” He sighed. “But people here are weird about basketball. It’s more than just a game. It’s, like, a lifestyle. If I walked away I’d be disappointing so many people. I’d piss off so many people. It would be . . . really bad.”
“Yeah, I get that,” I said. “But who cares?”
He looked at me. Raised his eyebrows.
“I’m serious,” I said. “I don’t