Free Love Delayed by Love Belvin

children who were having trouble in school. She mentioned how I could probably help. One summer, I made $500 doing something that came natural to me. I kept going back at the request of the parents. Their children listened to a different kind of music and I caught on to it quickly. One year their dad brought home KISS t-shirts signed by Gene Simmons himself.”
    “Dope.” Stenton nodded. His hands were in his lap, and his eyes were in his plate. “So, you tutored?
    “Yeah. Still do. Make a few pennies from it, too.”
    He nodded again, appearing to absorb my words. It was weird…like he was really interested. I figured everyone had a story.
    “So how do you know rock?”
    He exhaled as he sat up in his seat. “When they learned I could ball, the first thing they determined was they needed to keep my black ass out of Newark outside of the school year. So, during summer and spring and winter breaks I’d stay with families of coaches to train in upstate New York, Connecticut, Delaware…all over. I learned lots of shit; music, art…a few languages. It felt like being passed around, but I got exposed to different cultures and eventually learned how to use it to my benefit.”
    “Do you listen to hip-hop and R&B?”
    Stenton lowered his chin. “ Zoey, I’m from Newark, NJ; of course I listen to rap and R&B. They just aren’t the only two types of music I enjoy. I really dig rock. It allows you to lower your inhibitions. You don’t have to dance to it, and if you do, you don’t need rhythm. It’s also all-inclusive. Whenever I go to rock concerts, I’m always welcomed and not because I’m Stenton Rogers either. It’s because they are a group of misfits who were once the cast-asides of society. So they take to underdogs. They accept all people.”
    “Is that why Angela said you’re referred to as the NBA rocker boy?”
    He shook his head. “At first it started off as a locker room jibe, but as the years passed, and…incidences occurred, the moniker seemed to fit. And I never really gave a fuck about what people thought of me anyway.” He tossed his lips into the air.
    “So, how do you know about philosophy?”
    He went for his glass and took a gulp. “I know a little bit about everything. When you’re a promising all-star player, you’re given tools most kids from your city are incapable of dreaming about. When my talent was discovered, I was provided tutors to keep me afloat in school. I had curriculums that covered the state requirements and were catered to my learning ability.”
    “Nice. Having everything handed to you.” I tried to hide the sarcasm in my voice.
    “Nope. I had to go to class. I had to perform well academically. I only had two responsibilities: maintain my studies and maneuver the ball. My schedules were set for me and that’s all I did for years. I knew guys in some of the ball camps I went to who didn’t fare well with school.” He shrugged. “I so happened to be a sponge and soaked up everything, but only retained what interested me. I didn’t have much of a life outside of dribbling a ball , as you so eloquently put it last week at the restaurant. Sometimes it was my escape from the court when there was too much pressure from others’ expectations. I had great tutors, which is why I can respect what you do. If it weren’t for them, I wouldn’t have made the grades that I did because I put in so many hours on the court.”
    “Hmmm…” I chewed on the inside of my lip.
    Stenton angled his head to the side. “What’s never brought up is the controversy during the summer I got drafted. America had so much to say about my decision to skip college. I had been offered a full ride to Rutgers, UCLA, Howard, Florida State and a few other schools.”
    “For basketball,” I asserted.
    Stenton shook his head. “Those schools were for academic achievements. I didn’t name the ones for sports. But everyone seems to Google those offering scholarships for balling. The same info