It was weird to watch him as an adult. Neville had convinced himself that Brion hadn't changed much in the near decade since they'd last spoken but he had clearly been wrong. With a whistle between his teeth, Breeze ran the kids, the youngest 5 and the oldest 9, through the drills he himself hated and complained about all their lives. He embodied all the qualities they had appreciated in their coaches without losing his own comedic personality. Brion was never one to take himself too seriously. When he made varsity as a freshman, he shrugged it off to good luck. And when he made all-state as a sophomore he joked that his father probably paid some people off. Even when he made all-American his last two years of high school and had recruiters from all over the country coming to watch him play, he made it clear to Neville that he wasn't going anywhere without him. He was getting the same kind of attention but there was very little overlap for the two to enjoy success on the hardwood and the gridiron.
They ended up staying local at a relatively small division-1 school that was happy to add two homegrown stars to their ranks. At least until Neville's fuck up, but he never faulted the administration or his coaches for his unceremonious booting. Brion stayed and graduated with a degree in Sports Management. He had no illusions of NBA success and used his talents to travel the world, playing professionally in two countries while he earned another degree in Sports Medicine. From a very early age Brion knew that he wanted to open a gym for kids like them, well like Neville, who didn't have much support with their athletic endeavors. Neville had always admired that about him, his drive and self assurance to see to his goals. Sure they partied as much as any other campus celebrity but Brion never missed a class and graduated with a very respectable 3.6 GPA.
Neville watched from the bleachers with a few parents as Brion lived his dream, directing the 20 or so kids and his three high school aged assistants through layup lines and ball handling drills. He even ran the kills at the end of the session with them, backwards, shouting words of encouragement to all the kids by name. At the end every kid got a sports drink, a high-five, and an attaboy before they went to change back into their street clothes. He chatted with the adults while they waited for the little guys to return, occasionally glancing over in Neville's direction. Unfortunately he couldn't tell if the red in Brion's face was from blush or exertion, but he was fine with either. When all the kids were gone Brion, with the help of his assistants, returned the gym back to it's pre-practice emaculance. Neville would have helped but he was enjoying watching too much, and listening to Breeze be Breeze. He teased the lone girl among them about her prom date prospects, telling her, "It might be hard for you to find a date who ain't intimidated by that mean cross of yours. But if you gotta let a man win to get him to notice you, he ain't worth your time babygirl." Neville noticed one of the boys' quick glances at her and smiled thinking, she might not have to look as far as she thought. When they were done Brion followed them out and locked the door behind them. With a cocky smirk on his face, he sauntered over to Neville and pulled off his shirt.
"We got time for you to get ya ass kicked if you want," he said as he grabbed a stray ball and dribbled a little, lazily putting it through his legs a couple times before he turned and shot a fadeaway jumper from well beyond the three-point line.
"Naw bud this ya world," Neville said as he climbed down from the bleachers to retrieve the rebound and send the ball back to Breeze with a bounce pass. "This is a pretty nice set up you got here though. I'm proud of you man."
"Oh stop it," he said as he took another shot from just beyond the top of the key. Another swish and Neville again rebounded and sent it back. This time he made a pass that Brion had to run to catch but he made it and the turnaround jumper that followed. "I'm just doing what I feel like I was put here to do. Nothing really noble about that."
"You kill me with that shit yo," Neville said as he took a shot of his own, which of course didn't go in but Brion tossed the ball back to him and nodded for him to take the shot again. "Can't a brotha just be impressed by his boy doing his thing." The ball came through the net with a swish. Brion caught the rebound, put it on the floor twice, and two hand dunked it. He did a little dance when he landed and Neville shook his head. "Always a show off," he said with a chuckle and Brion shrugged his shoulders.
"What? You know I'm kinda a nice wit it," he said as he tucked the ball under his arm. "Lemme go grab my stuff before Pop start calling and shit." A few minutes later, Brion returned in sweats and a t-shirt, smelling like body wash and cocoa butter. Neville wanted to lick him but he settled for a playful shove instead which Brion returned.
As they cruised through the city, Neville thought he might be nervous about the possibility of bumping into a relative but Brion's presence in the passenger seat eased his anxiety. It wasn't that he didn't want to see anybody but the probability of confrontation was pretty high with some of his more zealous family members. He avoided his old neighborhood where he knew his father still lived and he noticed Brion almost comment on his detour. Instead he patted Neville's thigh and turned up the radio, keeping his mouth shut.
Eventually they pulled up in front of Brion's childhood home and found his father puffing a cigar on the front porch. It wasn't much, a typical inner city row home but some of Neville's greatest childhood memories happened under that roof. He was excited as he found a parking spot a few doors down. Brion's dad watched them park from the porch. He had been seated until they got out of the car, but when he saw Neville he jumped up and tossed the cigar away before he made his way gingerly down the steps.
"Hey Pop look who I found," Breeze said as they walked up to the older version of himself. He opened his arms to hug his father but was shoved aside by the man responsible for his handsome smile and light eyes.
"So you listened to me for once in your life. Only took you 28 fuckin' years," he barked but there was a huge grin on his face as he took Neville into a bearhug. "I told his punk ass to go see you but he ain't listen."
"They wouldn't let me on the list Pop..."
"Fuck a list boy. You should have found a way," came quickly from his father with a hard slap to the back of his head.
"It's cool Mac I wasn't in no shape to see nobody no way. Him coming to see me the other night was enough."
"You out clean...no PO visits?"
"Yes sir," Neville said with a smirk, knowing full well where this visit was going. "Did every day minus eight months of good time. I ain't want no tether."
"That's what I'm talking bout," Mac said with a hard pat to his back before he pulled him into another hug. This one was less intense but Neville still appreciated the love. "Well shit lets get in the house before Margie come looking for me."
At the mention of Mac's new girlfriend, a frown came to Neville's face and both men noticed. Brion's mother passed away from a stroke during the first year of his incarceration and it weighed on him that he wasn't there to see his best friend through it or to pay his respects to the woman who was like his mother. He even called her momma, unlike his stepmother who he unaffectionately called Ms. Pru.