“Mr. Obama, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” said Val, hurrying over to the door of the booth and dropping to his knees in a bow.

“Obama?” said the man standing in front of Val. “Are you a racist?”

“Huh?”

“You think all black men look like Obama?” asked the man, glaring at Val. “That’s like me looking at you and calling you Jackie Chan ‘cuz you’re Asian.”

“Oh word?” snarled Val, shooting to his feet. “What did you say to me?”

It was then that Val got a closer look at the stranger. Up close, it was clear that he looked nothing like Obama besides the fact that he was African-American. His hair was tied back in cornrows and he had a single stud earring in his left ear. He wore a navy-blue suit and towered at least a foot over Val’s head.

“Uh…my bad…” stammered Val. “If you want my money, just take it. Please don’t frick me up.”

“You think all black men are criminals?” the man asked, incredulous. “Man, there’s something wrong with your head!”

“That’s what my parents tell me all the time!” Val shot back.

The man stared at him for a moment, unsure what to do. After an awkward moment, he spoke.

“Um…I’m DJ,” said the stranger, holding out his hand.

Val’s heart rate doubled and his blood pressure shot up to inhuman levels. Fast as lightning, he snagged his wallet out of his backpack and placed it in DJ’s massive palm.

The two of them stared at the wallet in silence for a moment.

“I DON’T WANT YOUR MONEY!” DJ roared, throwing Val’s wallet to the ground. “I want to talk about Avalon!”

“…”

“…”

“Oh word?” said Val, scratching his head and picking up his wallet. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”

“Because…” DJ gave up in the middle of his sentence and put his face in his hands.

“You don’t look like an Avalon player,” said Val. “I thought you were a basketball player.”

“I swear, if you say one more thing…”

“You definitely look like you’ve got potential, though,” rambled Val. “You’ve got crazy long arms. It would be ridiculously hard to beat you 1v1.”

DJ stared at Val, mouth wide open.

Val glanced around, heart starting to race once more. For caution’s sake, he began reaching for his wallet once more.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” said DJ, swiping at something near his eyes.

Val didn’t know what to say to that.

“You’re an insane player too!” said DJ, eyes shining. “I was watching you while you were playing – you’ve got the quickest fast twitch muscles I’ve every seen! Your arms were going like wham while your legs were going like whoosh! It was frickin’ amazing, I tell you!”

“You’ve got the quickest reflexes I’ve ever seen! You and me – we’re going to go pro. Together!”

Val’s hands tightened into fists, ears no longer processing the words that DJ spoke.

I’m sorry, Marianne. Neither one of us is going pro. Not you. And not me.