“Nobody’s playing favorites,” I snap back, and grab the ball from underneath the basket. “It’s not my fault y’all haven’t found a way to guard him yet. Stay in front of him. Keep a hand in his face. Block him out so he doesn’t keep getting all the rebounds.”

“Oh, so now you’re the ref and the coach?” Cole replies.

“Tell me about it!” Shannon echoes.

I dribble the ball a few times, noticing how it pops up quicker than it would on a normal court. “Whatever. Don’t be mad at me. I’m just callin’ it like I see it.”

“Y’all are funny,” Jordan says, and walks to the low block.

Rex walks to the free-throw line, looking uncomfortable with being in the middle of all the arguing.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Jordan says, turning toward me. She reaches into her sneakers and pulls out a piece of paper rolled up into a flattened scroll. “Here,” she says, and holds it out.

“Ew, I’m not touching that,” I reply.

“Girl, would you look,” she says, eyes wide, and unrolls it. The hospital menu.

I quickly slide the ball between my left elbow and hip and take it. The paper is damp from Jordan’s sweaty feet, but I don’t care. I flip it over, and there it is in blurred blue ink:

The very first kisses were blown in Mesopotamia as a way to get in good with the gods.

Tangible evidence of where it all began for me and Rex. A sign of where we’re going? Maybe, but who has time to try to figure that out?

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not totally giving up on my signs. I still believe that if I pay attention, signs will pop up and let me know I’m on the right path. But all that business of thinking everything was a potential sign had to stop. Some things just are what they are, and trying to give them extra meaning all the time was overcomplicating my life.

Take me and Rex. Regardless of the first-kisses fact, our fate will depend on how we treat each other—how much of the good in ourselves we’re willing and able to give each other—simple as that.

But should I at least give him the menu? So he can always have it as a reminder of how I’ve felt from the very beginning, no matter what happens to us?

“Any day now,” Cole says, walking up to the block opposite Jordan.

Shannon sets up beside him, already looking ready to rebound even though Rex hasn’t even shot his first free throw.

I bounce pass the ball to Rex with my right hand, still trying to decide what to do with the menu in my left.

Rex catches the ball and dribbles—one, twice, three times, and swish. No kisses.