Dribble, dribble, bounce, turn and jump. The ball went through the net like nothing at all. He'd been at this all afternoon. First the gym, working out until the trainer on call told him to leave before he sprained or strained something. Then the track. Two miles was enough of that. The last two hours he'd been at the court shooting, playing pick up with anyone who'd shoot, free throwing until he could do it with his eyes closed.
Now, the daylight began to wane and the night lights were beginning to flicker on. He staggered over to the ramshackle bleacher and crashed on a lower seat. Taking a great swig from his nearly empty water bottle, he draped his towel over his head and let it hang.
He heard as well as felt the seating give as someone joined him. A voice from behind upper left spoke.
"Looks like you avoidin' somethin', man."
"Yeah. Seems that way."
"Woman?"
"Not really. Just trying not to think, mainly."
"Yeah. Thinkin' can be hard, 'specially if it's somethin' worth thinkin' 'bout."
A comfortable silence rose between them for a few minutes until the voice spoke again.
"So what is it that ya don't want to be thinkin' 'bout?"
"A promise."
"One of yours?"
"No, one I demanded."
"Heavy. Second thoughts?"
"Do you mean do I want out?"
"Hey, man, it's your thinkin' we doin' here."
"No, no. I don't want out." A long pause. "I'm just afraid I'll fail. That I'll do something wrong and ruin a friendship."
"The Good Book says no love is bigger than a man layin' his life down for his friend. Is this promise worth it?"
Silence.
"Is it worth your life?"
"Yeah. It is. Because I've seen that kind of love just today."
"Maybe one of these days, you'll be that kinda love."
The creaky seats whined as the voice drifted off.
Bobby waited a moment before turning to speak one last time but no one was there…