"WHERE ARE MY COUPONS?" Boris Diaw, seated on Kawhi Leonard's living room couch, shrugged his shoulders. "How would I know? They're your coupons." "They're supposed to be right here in the coupon drawer," Kawhi said in a panicked voice, riffling through the stack of coupons again. "I don't know where they are. How are we going to go to Wingstop if we have to pay full price?" Looking at the assorted coupons for competing establishments only reminded him of how much he had been looking forward to treating his dear friend Boris to some free chicken wings. "We can probably afford it," Boris replied, making no effort to help his teammate search for the misplaced coupons. "Maybe I put them in the menu drawer by accident," Kawhi said, although he didn't hold out much hope as he flipped through a pile of pizza delivery and Chinese takeout menus. Not finding the coupons there, either, he refused to let his growing discouragement take hold. The coupons had to be around somewhere. "Maybe I left them in one of my pants pockets," he said aloud, jogging up the stairs towards his closet. "If your wardrobe is anything like mine, it'll take you hours to look," Boris yelled after him. When there was no response, he shrugged again and resumed looking at his phone. Kawhi had his pants organized by the last time he had worn them. Knowing that he had last used a Wing Stop coupon three weeks ago, he would only search the pockets of his twenty most recent pairs of pants. When pair after pair yielded nothing but minor amounts of lint, Kawhi found that he was out of ideas. If the coupons weren't in any of the logical places, they could be anywhere. He sadly walked down the stairs. "Wingstop is going to be so mad that I lost their coupons. I'm supposed to be a sponsor and this is how I repay them." "Trust me, the amount they make off of you shilling their wings is way more than the amount you save by using their coupons," Boris said. "They'll probably send you a thousand more if you go on Twitter right now and say that you really love their special Mango sauce or whatever." "Mango Habanero," Kawhi corrected automatically, feeling near tears. "But why would they send me more when I proved how irresponsible I was with the coupons they already gave me? I had twenty-two of them left and I somehow managed to lose them all at once like a big dummy." He cradled his head in his large hands. "I can't believe it. Do you know how many free orders of wings those coupons represented? I'm so stupid." Boris shifted uneasily in his seat. Finally, he broke down. "Okay, fine, here's your coupons," he said, pulling a stack of coupons out of his pants pocket and throwing them on the coffee table in front of him. "I thought it would be a funny prank but it wasn't very funny and I'm sorry, okay?" Kawhi stared wordlessly at the coupons, then picked one up as if to verify its authenticity. Half a minute passed. "Why would you play a mean trick like that?" he asked softly. Boris looked uncomfortably at the ceiling. "No reason. It's just the kind of silly joke that friends pull on each other. Sorry." "I don't think friends should hide each other's coupons," Kawhi said. "That's not a very friendly thing to do." Boris sighed and rolled his eyes. "If I had known you would freak out like this I obviously wouldn't have touched the damn coupons. Now are we gonna go eat some wings or what?" "I don't know. Usually I only go out to eat with people I consider to be my friends." "Oh no. No no no. Don't get started down that road. We're still bros," Boris said. "Bros are supposed to share their coupons with each other in the spirit of generosity, not selfishly hide them from each other to perpetuate some kind of sick 'joke'," Kawhi said, his voice still disconcertingly quiet. "I might just go by myself." He got up from his seat, coupons in hand, and replaced them in their proper place after slipping one into his pocket for immediate use. Boris had not moved from his position on the couch. Kawhi looked at his teammate's downcast expression and felt a small amount of sympathy that was still dwarfed by betrayal. "You'll have to leave my house now. I can't let you stay while I go get my wings. I don't know what you might do with the rest of my possessions." Boris silently got up and let himself out through the front door. Kawhi watched him get into his car. "Maybe I can forgive you eventually," he said, barely loud enough for Boris to hear. "But not right now." After Boris drove away, Kawhi continued to stand in the doorway, feeling overwhelmed by a mix of emotions. He wasn't even sure if he was hungry for wings. He wondered if he had been too hard on Boris. He remembered the panic he had felt when his coupons had been missing. Turning back into the house, a single tear, held back so carefully, ran down his cheek.

• published: 27 May 2016
• views: 5382