I grabbed the five and Peaches nabbed the zero. We both had a fistful of colorful markers. The hardest part would be keeping it hidden from Mike. When we got outside, the pickup basketball game in the backyard had stopped all progress on the decorating.

I heard Peaches sigh. “Skins versus shirts. My favorite teams.”

Austin was on skins and I let a small sigh slip as well. Boys playing ball was so cliché. But the ebb and flow of the game was hot, and they didn’t even know it.

I hugged the five to my chest while I watched. Austin was dribbling the basketball while planning his attack. Gaze was on his team and Ruffian was on shirts. I noticed a few guys we hung out in high school were here as well now. The good news was everyone was crowded around the court, so we could get the signatures and good tidings. The double good news was Mike was nowhere in sight.

Peaches leaned against my arm. “Are you seeing this?”

I nodded. Austin was in low slung black jeans and high tops. He had a thick chain with a lock around his neck. His guyliner was smudged and running a little low, too. His hair was held back in a messy bun with a flower scrunchie.

“I don’t remember that many tattoos on that manscicle before.” Peaches pointed a dreamy index finger at Austin.

“Just the butterfly is new.” I knew his tattoos better than I knew my own beauty marks.

The butterfly stretched on his lower chest. It was mostly a sketch. Not much color on the image.

I watched the muscles in his back flex as he passed the ball to Gaze. Gaze plucked the ball out of the air like his hands were magnets and the ball was metal.

Ruffian tossed up his hands as Gaze dunked over his head. “This is ridiculous. He never fucking misses.”

Gaze bit his smile and then gave Austin a side glance.

“Y’all are working against me.”

Things were getting heated. I’d seen this before when Gaze played ball. He was insanely good at the game. Ronna pushed her way onto the court with snacks and drinks. It was clear she was picking up the switch in the vibe. Moms of boys knew the signals to look for, I guessed. Austin grabbed a water bottle and let it run over his forehead and face, then he splashed it on his chest.

“Oh, that’s not even fair.” Peaches rolled her eyes.

Austin caught my eye and then jogged over to me. “How are you?”

Peaches was making herself scarce. “Me? I’m good.” I held a marker out to Austin and put the five on my forearms like they were a table. “Is Ruffian really mad?”