Chapter 2
Jared counted ten young men, all red-faced and aggressive, moving up and down the court like fast and sweaty monkeys. The orange ball skid and bounced and whizzed through the air, slapping the players on their hands before swishing through the rope basket. One man scored, tossing an easy layup from below and tipping the ball into the basket. His teammates cheered and high-fived him, then ran to the other end of the court. Two minutes later, the same man grabbed the ball and shot again, this time from the foul line, and made another basket. More cheers.
Jared had always found basketball pretty boring and stupid, but now he was pulled into the excitement, amazed by the skills of this one player and the fast action of the game. The player looked young, probably around Jared’s age, but way taller. Not fair.He’s gotta be over six feet at least. He wore gray, knee-length nylon shorts and a black T-shirt, with a small blue yarmulke clipped over his wavy, ink-black hair. Despite the messy heat of the game, the basketball player was handsome. Jared found himself focusing on the young athlete, waiting for him to leap up and make a basket, in hopes that he just might expose a bit of his midriff. It happened in a split second, as the manly body stretched to its full length, and the T-shirt lifted in the air, showing a flash of white skin with light curls of black body hair.
So hot.I can’t believe I’m perving over some Conservative basketball player.
It was only Monday night; nothing really interesting was happening at any of the gay bars in midtown anyway. Not a good night to go looking for a hookup. Besides, he had to be at work at six A.M. the next morning. The crew started shooting at eight.
As Jared imagined away any chance of getting sex that night, he failed to notice the basketball game had ended abruptly. All the guys were high-fiving and shaking hands, then packing their things on the sidelines and heading to the men’s locker room. Only when Jared looked up from his reverie and across the gymnasium did he notice the best basketball player staring at him.
Startled, Jared grinned and shot him a thumbs-up, as if to say, “Good game.”
The player nodded with an embarrassed smile, then turned away, disappearing behind the steel door.
Dork! Jared Greenfield, you are such a dork. A thumbs-up? Why?He berated himself for his action, then left the balcony, heading down the stairs and into the lobby of the JCC, where a hundred people seemed to be putting their coats on or taking them off. Jared pushed through the crowd, only to hear someone calling his name.
“Jared!” cried a woman from across the hall. “Is that you, Jared?”
It was Barbara from set design, her dyed red hair piled on top of her head, wearing a soft, pea-green coat that reached to her knees. What was she doing here?
“Hey,” said Jared, accepting Barbara’s big hug with a nonchalant shrug.
“Happy Hanukkah!” she almost yelled into his ear as she squeezed him. He inhaled the strong scent of her perfume.
“Pink Dragon?” asked Jared with a knowing smile.
“Damn, you aregood,” cried Barbara. “How the hell did you know that?”
“Well,” began Jared, “you’re practically swimming in the stuff, and then I basically spend my Saturday afternoons sniffing cologne at Bergdorf’s.”
“Is it too much?” Barbara suddenly seemed self-conscious. “I just did a quick spray on the sidewalk before coming in.”
“Na, you’re fine. Give it a few minutes to cool down.”
“I’m here to see my nephew’s play,” she said. “With the pre-school—they’re acting out the story of Hanukkah. And I’m bringing that guy I met online. You know, the lawyer?”
“Which makes it how many dates?” asked Jared, pretending to be interested, but scanning the room for his basketball hunk.
“Technically, it’s our fourth,” said Barbara.
“So tonight’s when it happens!” said Jared, giving her a mini high-five.
The two work friends chatted for a good ten minutes, but every time Barbara spoke, Jared’s eyes darted to the stairs, then to the front door.
“I’m gonna go grab our seats,” said Barbara. “You know you’re welcome to join us if you’re not doing anything. Samuel won’t mind.”
“No way I’m gonna third wheelyour fourth date. And I’m headed home anyway. Got to get an early start tomorrow. Don’t stay up too late tonight, you hear!” he teased his work colleague, then gave her a quick goodbye hug.
Light snow floated down from the dark, Manhattan sky, and he walked two blocks with his head bowed, his hands shoved deeply into his coat pockets. The idea of the long commute home depressed him a little—he did not want to spend thirty minutes on the subway. He just wanted to be home, in his sweats and on the couch, watching stupid reality TV.