Enes Kanter listened to the voicemail message again.
“Hiiii! You’ve reached Jesseca’s voicemail, which means I can’t take your call right now! Leave a message and I’ll get back to you!”
Of course, Enes didn’t leave a message. He couldn’t. Jesseca had surely viewed their budding relationship just as any cheerleader would view a relationship with a basketball player: fun, but not serious. Thinking about this fact cut Enes deep inside, like a symphony of razorblades.
Setting down the phone, he turned now to his laptop screen. On it was Jesseca’s Facebook profile. Enes was not friends with her; he had just been getting to that point when the trade to Oklahoma City had occurred. Only two photos were accessible to him: her profile pic, which was of her dog, and her cover photo, which was a picture of a sunrise. Neither of these were any comfort to him, but he still looked at them every day, remembering what a free spirit Jesseca had been. A free spirit begging to be tamed by the strong, loving hand of a man.
Tears of regret dropped down onto the keyboard as he navigated to the official Utah Jazz Facebook page, hoping to catch a glimpse of her there.
The first picture in the timeline was of the whole dance team standing in a hospital for some kind of community event. There, in the bottom row, second from the right, was her. Just as beautiful as ever. Moaning out in lustful agony, Enes slammed the laptop shut.
Breathing heavily, he picked up his phone and dialed the number again.
“Hiiii! You’ve reached Jesseca’s voicemail…” the message began, but Enes could not hear it over the sound of his own hoarse sobbing.