Thomas Bryant was taking off his shoes when he noticed that his immediate vicinity had just gotten significantly dimmer. Looking up, he saw what was blocking all the light: it was the hulking, suit-wearing form of teammate Dwight Howard.
“Great game rook,” Dwight said with a big smile on his face. “That win was all you.”
“I’m not a rook, but thanks,” Thomas replied, genuinely pleased that the multiple-time All-Star was going out of his way to pay compliments.
“31 points, that’s pretty good,” Dwight continued. “But, yeah, I was just talking to Ernie Grunfeld and he told me you just got traded to the Suns, so I guess you shouldn’t be in our locker room anymore.” He took out his phone and fiddled with it for a second, then quickly flashed the screen at Thomas. “Woj already tweeted about it. They finalized it in the second overtime.”
Thomas was confused. “I got traded?”
“Yeah, Ernie didn’t want to trade you but he really wanted that Bender guy. So you should probably get on their bus so you can go back to Phoenix with them.” For some reason, Dwight was looking around the locker room nervously, as if he was afraid somebody else would intrude upon their conversation.
Putting his shoes in his duffel bag along with the small amount of personal possessions he kept in his locker, Thomas asked, “Should I, like, say goodbye to everybody?”
Dwight shook his head as he guided his teammate towards the door. “No time. If you stay here for another minute, you’ll get a big fine from the NBA and the Suns will cut you for not being timely. I’ve seen it happen, it could ruin your career.”
“Oh. Okay,” Thomas replied, trusting that the veteran Dwight knew more about the ins and outs of transactions than he did. “I don’t know where their bus is.”
Dwight was now forcing Thomas through the door and out into the hallway. “It’s, uh, in the parking lot. It says ‘Phoenix Suns’ in big purple letters on the side. You can’t miss it.” As they stood in the hallway, Dwight firmly shook Thomas’ hand. “It was great playing with you, man.”
“Same,” Thomas said, still feeling vaguely confused. Why hadn’t his agent contacted him yet? Was the paperwork still going through? He started walking towards the parking lot, checking his phone for text messages that referenced the trade. None of them did. All of the messages were simply congratulating him on his high-scoring performance.
Eventually, he found the Suns’ team bus. The last straggler from their locker room, Mikal Bridges, was just getting on it. Starting to jog so he wouldn’t get left behind and then waived, he ran onto the bus and sat down in the front row right behind the driver. “Sorry I’m late. They just told me about the trade,” he announced.
This announcement was met with silence, so Thomas turned around to look at his new teammates. He was surprised to see Dragan Bender sitting a few rows back. “Hey, man, you’d better get off,” he told the ex-Sun. “You’re a Wizard now.”
Most of the Suns players were now checking their phones for trade announcements, murmuring to each other in bewilderment. Igor Kokoskov, sitting near the back of the bus, was actually making a quick phone call in hushed tones, a call that soon finished. He walked up to Thomas. “I don’t know who told you about a trade, but there wasn’t one.”
“Oh. Okay,” Thomas replied. He had been looking forward to making new friends on the Suns and not being in a toxic locker room, but was also glad that his life wasn’t going to get upended so quickly. “I wonder why Dwight lied to me?”
Thomas walked back to his own locker room with this question repeating in his mind.