Emma and I watch them leave, pushing and shoving like kids, shaking our heads, and smiling as they leave the room. Jake grabs a gym bag from the hall that obviously holds formal basketball clothes. Arrick throws me back a half smile, a look of support, that soft one I can never resist that makes his eyebrows crazily straight, and then he’s gone. Both leave us to have some space, and I must admit, with them gone, it’s like I can breathe a little bit more. I know what Emma is going to say. ...