Mr. Wrong After All by Hazel Mills Page B

played basketball. Ninety-nine percent of the girls that I had encountered the entire time I’d been on campus were only fascinated with being with a brother who could potentially secure a NBA contract. I knew this and I must admit that I took advantage of it and used those girls any way they would allow themselves to be used. This was a common practice among male athletes. There was never a shortage of pussy, money, food, clothes, or whatever a jock wanted. Some would even have girls who would write term papers for them. I never took it that far. My grades were sacred and there was no way in hell I was going to trust some chicken head to fuck me over by writing some lame ass paper. If I were going to fail, it would be with my own dumb shit.
    Nikki’s vibe was definitely different. She seemed like one of those “good” girls that my Gran Nana always talked about. Nikki’s calm demeanor made me want to lay aside my player card for life and be a gentleman.
    “Baby boy, a good girl is what you want to marry and bring home. You will know exactly what a good girl is when you meet one ‘cause she’ll make you want to be a better man,” Gran Nana insisted.
    I thought about what Gran Nana would say if I brought that nasty freak, Shannon, home. I could see the look of disgust and disapproval on her elderly face. Shannon was definitely the ho to keep in the closet and away from company. She and Nikki were not even in the same league. I was happy that the two of them didn’t know each other. I would be embarrassed if Nikki even thought that I fooled around with someone like Shannon.
    I’ll have to kick Shannon to the curb if I plan to pursue Nikki.
    I decided to pull out Nikki’s number and give her a call. If she was game, maybe we could check out the new movie directed by my homeboy, Spike.
    Just as I was about to pick up the phone, its ring startled me.
    What? Could Nikki have read my mind and be calling me?
    She wants me. I knew it.
    I laughed out loud at my own arrogant thoughts.
    “Hello.”
    “Hello, Ahmad.”
    I barely recognized my mother’s voice. It sounded weak and distracted. I could tell that something was off.
    “Ma, what’s up?”
    “Ahmad, you need to come home as soon as possible,” she began. “Something awful has happened.”
    My heart began to pound uncontrollably in my chest. No matter what happened at home, my mother was always able to handle it on her own or at least make me believe that she could. To hear her say that she needed me to come home meant that some shit has happened that is out of her control.
    “Ma, what’s up? What’s wrong?”
    “Corrie…”
    “Ma, what are you saying? What’s happened to Corrie?”
    “Corrie is in Roosevelt hospital. I really don’t want to go into it any deeper over the phone, son. Come on home. Your little girl really needs her daddy.”
    “Okay, I’m on my way.”
    I didn’t know why my mother would not give me the details of why Corrie was in the hospital but I didn’t have time to sit and argue with her about it. I needed to hit I-5. I called my coach just to give him a heads up that I would be away just in case he tried to reach me for whatever.
    On the drive to New York, I tried not to imagine the worst. But it was hard not to. Corrie meant the world to me and I would die if something awful happened to her. She was the reason I pushed myself so hard on the court and in the classroom.
    How bad could it be? God, please don’t take my baby girl away from me. I love her too much to lose her.
    My eyes filled with tears and because I was alone, I didn’t bother trying to hold them back. Being hard didn’t matter now. I was scared for my daughter. I prayed all the way to the hospital. God must have kept the cops off the interstate because I had my size 14 shoe to the floor pushing ninety miles an hour, passing other cars as if they were standing still.
    When I arrived at the hospital, I saw my mom in the hallway of the emergency room talking to