It was the next step in hip-hop fashion. First there had been the retro uniforms of your favorite greats. Now, at a Web site called Big-Time-Losahs.com or something like that, they sold uniforms for players who became hasbeens or never-weres, players who went bust . Like Myron . Jack, being only nine years old, didn't get the irony . When they reached the car, Jack gave Myron a big hug. Unsure how to play this, Myron hugged back but kept it brief. Erin stayed back . She gave him a half-nod and slipped into the backseat. Jack followed his big sister. Ali and Myron stood and smiled at each other like a pair of newly dating doofs . This was fun, Ali said . Myron was still smiling. Ali looked up at him with these wonderful green-brown eyes. She had red-blond hair and there were still remnants of childhood freckles. Her face was wide and her smile just held him . What? she said . You look beautiful . Man, you are smooth . I don't want to brag, but yes. Yes, I am . A li looked back at the house. Win real name: Windsor Horne Lockwood III stood with arms folded, leaning against the doorframe. Your friend Win, she said. He seems nice . He's not . I know. I just figured him being your best friend and all, I'd say that . Win is complicated . He's good-looking . He knows . Not my type though. Too pretty. Too rich-preppy-boy . A nd you prefer macho he-men, Myron said. I understand . She snickered. Why does he keep looking at me like that?My guess? He's probably checking out your ass . Good to know somebody is . Myron cleared his throat, glanced away. So you want to have dinner together tomorrow?That would be nice . I 'll pick you up at seven . A li put her hand on his chest. Myron felt something electric in the touch. She stood on tiptoes Myron was six-four and kissed his cheek. I'll cook for you . Really?We'll stay in . Great. So it'll be, what, like a family-type thing? Get to know the kids more?The kids will be spending the night at my sister's . Oh, Myron said . A li gave him a hard look and slipped into the driver's seat . Oh, Myron said again . She arched an eyebrow. And you didn't want to brag about being smooth . Then she drove off. Myron watched the car disappear, the dorky smile still on his face. He turned and walked back to the house. Win had not moved. There had been many changes in Myron's life his parents' moving down south, Esperanza's new baby, the fate of his business, even Big Cyndi but Win remained a constant. Some of the ash-blond hair around the temples had grayed a bit, but Win was still the nber-WASP. The patrician lockjaw, the perfect nose, the hair parted by the gods he stank, deservedly so, of privilege and white shoes and golfer's tan .