Price skews up his face. It’s a little overdramatic, but Jamal is still buying it. “I don’t get it. Nate’s a quarterback—he’s not going to be able to play defense.” Jamal blinks approximately twenty times and then sighs. “It’s just a metaphor!” I shake my head. So defeated. “But he’s right, I’m shit on defense. What if I’m no good metaphorically either?” “It’s not the same!” He’s clutching that dry-erase marker like he’s squeezing a lemon.
