Page 71 of When I Thug You Like That

“Daddy, Jussy!” Baby Jay pointed over at him.

“I see him, champ. He working.”

“Wanna go jump, Daddy.” He went to stand, and I stopped him before he could sprint off.

“Not right now, champ. We gon’ watch Jus today.”

“Wanna jump.” He kicked his feet and went to try and stand again.

“Aye, what Dad say?”

Sensing that he was ready to start turning up, I went to kids’ YouTube on my phone and handed it to him. I couldn’t have him flipping out and embarrassing his brother. Other kids wouldn’t see autism; they’d just see Justin’s little brother wilding out. And before I played a part in my son being bullied for anything out of his control, lil’ niggas was gon’ have to line that shit up.

Baby Jay took the phone without protest, laying his head on my shoulder. Within seconds, he’d locked in on a video of a kid building blocks, forgetting all about the court. I turned my head back to the floor just in time to see Justin catch a pass, cross up two of his teammates, and go up for the shot. The ball hit the backboard before dropping into the net.

“Let’s go!” I yelled.

He looked over at me, flexing his muscles, while jogging down the court backwards. My boy was a fucking star in the making. We watched him for another few minutes before Coach blew the whistle and pulled the boys into a huddle. After their break, I watched my dope ass kid dap up his teammates and make his way over to us.

“You saw how I crossed, Dad? Almost broke them boys’ legs.”

I laughed and stood. “Yeah, I saw you. You was doin’ ya thang.”

Baby Jay took his place between the both of us, and we started toward the exit.

“Coach said my handles getting better. Like before I would get the ball and shoot. Now, I’m moving around with it and stuff.”

“I see you’re taking heed to what he said too. You’re not only doing what you’re great at, you’re learning as well.”

“Jussy,” Baby Jay called out.

“Yeah?”

“Wanna play basketball?”

He laughed. “Yeah. We can play when we get home.”

“Okay.”

That answer satisfied him.

“Can we grab something to eat before we get to the barbershop, Dad? I’m hungry.”

“You always hungry.”

“I know.” He laughed. “I’ve been craving pizza all day.”

Pizza.

Of course the word that usually meant nothing to me made my mind drift to Jai’ana. It had been a few days since our prelude to a date, as I called it, and I still found myself flashing back to parts of our conversation. It wasn’t in an obsessive, I can’t eat, can’t sleep type of way. I was a grown ass man with two kids, responsibilities, and entirely too much other shit going on for all that. But she did cross my mind often, especially after seeing her during pick up.

The three days since Sunday had been interesting. Nothing major had happened between me and Jai’ana. I didn’t even get her number. And that was all strategy. I knew that boundaries mattered to her. She made it clear every time she mentioned that line shit. So, at Abilities First, we kept shit exactly where it was. Platonic. She was Ms. Jai, the teacher, and I was Mr. Sullivan, Jamison Jr.’s father.

I wasn’t hanging around her classroom or trying to turn pick up time into personal time. That didn’t mean I stopped flirting. At the same time, I never did or said anything that would make her uncomfortable. I was too P for that anyway. I could respect a boundary without pretending that I didn’t want the woman who drew it.

“Dad. Pizza?”

“Oh, my bad. Yeah. We can get pizza after the appointment. We got twenty-five minutes to get there.”