Basketball is Not Life

Chapter Six

The doorbell rang when Parker was upstairs, changing out of his church clothes.

Standing on the front porch was a group of very tall guys. I had seen some of them before; most of them were part of Michigan State's basketball team. All of them have one thing in common they were giants.

The one closest to the door talked first. "Who are you?"

"I live here. Who are you?" I asked him back even though I knew he was Marshall Young, the starting forward.

He leans toward me, his arm resting against the door frame. "Come on, baby. Like you don't know who I am. Everyone knows me." I roll my eyes and open the door against the wall, putting my leg out, so Spartan doesn't sprint out the front door. They were all dressed in basketball attire, and it was apparent why they had come. Wouldn't an indoor gym with air conditioning be better than outdoor play; were they even supposed to be playing without their coaches? 

 "Parker is upstairs, and I am not your baby," I respond. The boys around him start hollering and laughing at my departure. They were not going to make me uncomfortable enough to make me leave my designated spot at the kitchen island. They all wait for Parker, even though I wished they would take their leave and go outside already.

Marshall Young opens the fridge and grabs from one of the many Smart waters. I feel like this is going to be a common occurrence having the basketball guys over.

"Look, we need another player; we only have nine, including Parker." Marshall Young said, stepping closer to me.

"Seems to be that you are missing one; I believe you need ten for a full game." There had to be plenty of guys in Lansing wanting to be able to play a pick-up game with most of the Spartan crew. I looked back down at my planner, writing in all the classes that I had for tomorrow.

 "Come play. It'll be fun."

I push my seat in, trying to depart the kitchen with all the guys standing around. "Nah... I can think of better things to do."

"Come on." He rolls his shoulders. "Don't be scared. We won't hurt you." My hair on the back of my neck stands up.

 Parker had just come into the kitchen, "What's going on?" He asked, looking at me and then to Marshall, his eyes seeming tense.

"Trying to get this little miss sweet thing here to play with us. I told her we don't bite."          I rolled my eyes. Looking at Parker, I said, "Give me five minutes."

 Three minutes later, I walked back down to the kitchen with basketball shorts and a plain grey tank top on, my auburn hair piled up in a bun on top of my head, and my Nike Kobe Bryant basketball shoes on. Parker's eyes sweep over my body, his eyes landing on my shoes, and I know what he is thinking; they were a hundred and sixty dollars. My mother had bought them for me. They were white and bulky, but my ankles were less likely to roll in these over my running shoes.

The rest of the guys are outside shooting; if Parker is questioning anything, he doesn't ask. I follow him to the basketball court, wondering why I was doing this. 

Inside I felt small; outside, I felt like an ant. I knew that there was no way I would be able to pass over any of these guys. We were also playing with a men's basketball, and I was a dwarf compared to the talent on the court. My goal was not to win. Most likely, my team would lose. My only goal was to embarrass Marshall Young at least once, even if it was just with my trash talk.

"Well, well, well.... Looks like we have a game now." Marshall said when he sees Parker and me.

"Marshall, let's just play."