Jeremy Lin was curled up in his papasan along with his dog, Aethelstan. He fidgeted with his phone nervously.
“What do you think, boy, should I do it?” He muttered to Aethelstan, who responded by rearranging himself so as to be more tightly wound around his owner’s legs.
Jeremy sighed. He had nagged Dirk Nowitzki tirelessly for Chandler Parsons’ number, first when they played early in November, and later whenever he had a spare moment for social media. Dirk had finally given in just a few hours previous, responding to yet another Twitter PM with “There’s a reason that Chandler changed his number, you know.”. That comment had stung, but there was no guarantee that Chandler had merely forgotten about their friendship.
But how could he have? Jeremy definitely hadn’t. He thought back to their final conversation, one that might have ruined everything…
“See you, man. I love you,” Chandler had said, followed by a gasp. “Wait, I didn’t mean…”
“I know, man. I know,” Jeremy has responded. “I love you too.”
And that was it. An interminable silence had settled over their relationship, all because of his big mouth… why hadn’t he cornered Chandler when the Hornets went to Dallas? They hadn’t even made eye contact, let alone talked. He silently berated himself for his timid behavior.
Jeremy brought up Chandler’s contact info and stared at the little phone icon that would connect him with his former teammate. Aethelstan looked up at him, tongue hanging out and eyes wide, before nuzzling his face into Jeremy’s chest. The time for timidity had passed. Jeremy took a deep breath and, emboldened, placed the call. How funny it would be, now, if Dirk had given him the wrong number, and he ended up revealing everything to Raymond Felton.
With each ring, Jeremy grew more anxious. How easy it would be to end the call right now and forget about the whole thing. Yeah, no reason to dredge up the filthy mud of the past, just hit the “End Call” button and be done with it, what was he even thinking, trying to get back in touch with someone who obviously hated him… Suddenly, a voice startled him out of frantic thoughts.
“You have reached the bodacious abode of one Chandler Parsons, may who I ask is calling?”
Jeremy smiled. No matter what else had happened, Chandler’s ridiculous conversation starters had stayed the same.
“It’s Jeremy.”
There was a long pause. “Jeremy?”