Chapter 8: Duke and Distance Friday came faster than Jim wanted. He spent Thursday night packing, which really just meant throwing random shit into a duffel bag while his mom stood in his doorway telling him what he was doing wrong. "You can't wear that to meet a college coach," Roxanne said, holding up one of Jim's hoodies like it personally offended her. "It's Duke, not the White House." "Exactly. It's Duke. Show some respect." Jim grabbed the hoodie back. "I'll bring a button-up too. Happy?" "Ecstatic." She crossed her arms. "You talk to Valeria today?" "Yeah. She said good luck." "That's it?" "What else is there to say?" Roxanne gave him that look. The one that said she knew he was full of shit but wasn't going to push it. "Just don't mess this up," she finally said. "Either of them." "Thanks for the pressure, Mom." "You're welcome, mijo." She kissed his forehead and left him to finish packing. Jim sat on his bed and looked at his phone. Valeria had texted him an hour ago. **Valeria:** you're gonna kill it tomorrow. don't worry about anything here. **Jim:** thanks. wish you were coming with **Valeria:** me too. but this is your thing. go be great. **Jim:** love you **Valeria:** love you too It felt normal. Easy. Like they were back to how things used to be before Miguel showed up and everything went to shit. Jim wanted to believe it would stay that way. But something in his gut told him it wouldn't. --- Rich Paul picked Jim up at six Friday evening. Black SUV, tinted windows, the whole deal. "You ready?" Rich asked as Jim climbed in. "Ready as I'll ever be." "That's not very convincing." "I'm here, aren't I?" Rich smirked. "Fair point." They drove to the airport in relative silence. Rich made a few calls about other clients while Jim stared out the window, watching the city blur past. His phone buzzed. **Kenny:** good luck bro. show them what briarwood's made of **Zion:** don't forget us when you're famous **Greg:** bring back a duke jersey for becky. she'll lose her mind **Valeria:** safe flight Jim responded to all of them except Valeria. He started typing three different messages and deleted them all. What the fuck was he supposed to say? *Thanks, hope your cousin doesn't try anything while I'm gone?* Yeah, that'd go over well. He put his phone away. --- The flight was short. An hour and change. Rich spent most of it on his laptop, reviewing contracts or whatever the hell agents did. Jim tried to sleep but couldn't. His mind kept spinning. Duke wanted him. Actually wanted him. One of the best basketball programs in the country was flying him out, showing him around, trying to convince him to commit. This was what he'd worked for his whole life. So why did it feel like he was leaving something important behind? When they landed, a Duke assistant coach was waiting for them at baggage claim. Young guy, maybe late twenties, wearing a Duke polo and khakis. "Jim Feder?" He stuck out his hand. "I'm Coach Davis. Welcome to North Carolina." "Thanks." "How was the flight?" "Good." "Glad to hear it. We've got a car waiting. Coach Martinez is excited to meet you." They followed Davis out to another black SUV. Jim was starting to think everyone in basketball just drove the same car. The drive to campus took about twenty minutes. Davis talked the whole time, pointing out landmarks and giving Jim the recruiting pitch. Best facilities in the country. Historic program. NCAA championships. NBA pipeline. Jim nodded along but wasn't really listening. His phone buzzed again. **Valeria:** you there yet? **Jim:** just landed. heading to campus now. **Valeria:** let me know how it goes **Jim:** will do He wanted to ask if she was okay. If Miguel was still hanging around. If she'd talked to him. But he didn't. Because if the answer was yes, Jim didn't want to know while he was a thousand miles away with no way to do anything about it. --- Duke's campus was insane. Jim had seen nice facilities before. Briarwood had decent stuff. He'd visited a couple other schools over the summer. But Duke was on another level. The basketball complex alone was bigger than his entire high school. Weight room, practice courts, film room, locker room that looked like it belonged in the NBA. Everything was pristine. Brand new. Top of the line. "This is where you'd be working," Davis said, gesturing around. "Best training staff in college basketball. Whatever you need, we've got it." "Damn," Jim muttered. Rich smirked. "Impressive, right?" "Yeah." They spent the next hour touring everything. Davis showed them the academic center, the dorms, the main gym where the Blue Devils played their home games. Cameron Indoor Stadium. Jim had watched games there on TV a hundred times. Being inside it was different. He could picture himself out there. Playing in front of thousands of fans. Cutting down nets after winning a championship. It felt real in a way it hadn't before. "Coach Martinez is waiting in his office," Davis finally said. "You ready?" Jim nodded. --- Coach Martinez was exactly what Jim expected. Mid-fifties, graying hair, Duke polo, firm handshake. The kind of guy who'd been coaching so long he could probably diagram plays in his sleep. "Jim. Great to finally meet you in person." Martinez gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. "Have a seat. You too, Rich." They sat. Martinez leaned back in his chair and smiled. "I'll get right to it," he said. "We want you here. I've been watching your film for months now, and what you can do with a basketball is special. The way you see the floor, your handles, your ability to make everyone around you better—that's what we build programs around." Jim felt his chest tighten. Hearing it from an NBA scout was one thing. Hearing it from a coach like Martinez was different. "We think you could come in and start immediately," Martinez continued. "Run the point, control the tempo, be the guy. We haven't had a point guard like you in years, and I'm not just saying that to flatter you. I mean it." "Appreciate that, Coach." "The question is, what do you want? What are you looking for in a program?" Jim hesitated. He'd thought about this a lot. What mattered to him. What he needed. "I want to get better," he said finally. "I want to play at the highest level and know I'm being pushed every single day. And I want to win. I don't care about stats or highlights if we're not winning games." Martinez nodded. "That's exactly what we do here. Winning is the only thing that matters. Everything else is just noise." They talked for another thirty minutes. Martinez showed him film of how they'd use him in their offense. Explained the culture. Talked about former players who'd gone on to the NBA. Jim asked questions. Good ones. The kind Rich had probably prepped him on during the flight. But the whole time, his phone was burning a hole in his pocket. He wanted to check it. See if Valeria had texted. Make sure everything was okay. But he couldn't. Not here. Not in front of Martinez. "We'd love to have your decision soon," Martinez said as they stood to leave. "I know you've got other schools looking at you, but I think Duke is the right fit. Take the weekend. Think about it. Let me know by Sunday night if you can." "I will, Coach. Thanks for having me." They shook hands again. Davis walked them out. Rich waited until they were in the car before speaking. "Well?" "It's a good program." "That's it? Jim, this is Duke. They just offered you a starting spot as a freshman." "I know." "So what's the problem?" Jim looked out the window. "There's no problem." "Bullshit. I've been doing this long enough to know when a kid's head isn't in it. What's going on?" "Nothing. I'm just tired." Rich didn't push it. But Jim could tell he didn't believe him. They got back to the hotel around nine. Rich had booked them two rooms on the same floor. Jim dropped his bag, showered, and collapsed onto the bed. His phone had six new messages. **Kenny:** how'd it go??? **Zion:** bro don't leave us hanging **Greg:** mom wants to know if you're alive **Lenny:** call your mother **Demitra:** saw on instagram you're at duke. that's so cool! **Valeria:** hope everything went well. call me when you get a chance. Jim called Valeria. She picked up on the second ring. "Hey." "Hey," Jim said. "You busy?" "No. Just watching TV. How was it?" "Good. Really good, actually. The facilities are insane, and Coach Martinez seems legit." "That's great, Jim. I'm happy for you." Her voice sounded off. Distant. "You okay?" Jim asked. "Yeah. Why?" "You sound weird." "I'm fine." Silence. Jim could hear the TV in the background. Some reality show. "Val, if something's wrong, just tell me." She sighed. "Miguel talked to me today." Jim's stomach dropped. "About what?" "About us. Me and him." "What the fuck does that mean?" "He told me he still has feelings for me. That he came to New York because he wanted to see if we could… I don't know. Try again." Jim sat up. "Try again? He's your fucking cousin." "Jim—" "Wait, he's your cousin, right? You said he was your cousin." "He is. Kind of. It's complicated." "How is it complicated? Either he's your cousin or he's not." "His mom and my mom are half-sisters. Technically we're not related by blood." "Are you fucking kidding me right now?" "Jim, let me explain—" "You lied to me. You told me he was your cousin. You made me feel crazy for being jealous when the whole time he's your fucking ex?" "I didn't lie. I just didn't tell you the whole story because I knew you'd react like this." "Of course I'm reacting like this! You've been hanging out with your ex for a week and acting like it's no big deal!" "I haven't done anything wrong!" "You lied, Valeria! That's wrong!" "I didn't lie. I just—" "What did you tell him?" "What?" "Miguel. When he said he has feelings for you. What did you say?" Silence. "Val. Answer me." "I haven't responded yet." Jim felt like he'd been punched in the chest. "You haven't responded." "I wanted to talk to you first." "Why? What's there to talk about? Tell him to fuck off. Tell him you have a boyfriend. It's not complicated." "Jim—" "Unless you don't want to tell him that. Unless you're actually considering it." "That's not fair." "Then tell me I'm wrong." More silence. Jim's hands were shaking. He wanted to throw his phone across the room. Wanted to scream. Wanted to get on a plane and fly back to New York right fucking now. "I need to know something," Valeria finally said. "And I need you to be completely honest with me." "What?" "Are you really over your trust issues? Or are you just saying what I want to hear?" "Are you serious right now?" "Yes. Because if you're going to freak out every time a guy talks to me, or check my phone, or make me prove I'm not cheating, then I can't do this. I can't be in a relationship where I'm constantly on trial." "I apologized for that. I told you I'd work on it." "I know. But I need to know if you meant it. Or if you're just going to do the same thing the next time you get insecure." Jim didn't know what to say. Because honestly? He didn't know the answer. "I'm trying, Val. I swear I'm trying." "I know you are. But trying isn't enough if nothing actually changes." "So what are you saying? You want to break up?" "No. I'm saying I need you to figure out if you can really trust me. Not just say you do. Actually do it. Because if you can't, then we're just going to keep having this same fight over and over until one of us gives up." Jim's throat felt tight. "How long do I have?" "What?" "To figure it out. How long?" "I don't know, Jim. I'm not giving you a deadline. I'm just telling you what I need." "But Miguel's waiting for an answer, right? So there is a deadline." Valeria didn't respond. "I'll be back Sunday," Jim said. "We can talk then." "Okay." "Okay." "Jim?" "Yeah?" "I love you. I need you to know that. Whatever happens, I love you." "I love you too." They hung up. Jim stared at his phone for a long time. Then he threw it onto the bed and put his head in his hands. Duke wanted an answer by Sunday night. Valeria wanted an answer by Sunday too. And Jim had no idea what the fuck he was going to say to either of them. His phone buzzed. He picked it up. **Coach Martinez:** Great meeting you tonight, Jim. Looking forward to hearing from you Sunday. Let me know if you have any questions before then. Jim didn't respond. He just lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, feeling the weight of two impossible decisions pressing down on him.