When you think of heroes, you see capes and masks, but what about the scrapes and bruises? The etched scars that are permanently tattooed onto their skin and in their hearts.
Cassandra Fields is a rookie firefighter looking for her purpose in the w...
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LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA OCTOBER 10TH, 2018 4:41 P.M.
"I'M OPEN! I'M OPEN!" A player on offense shouted from across the basketball court of Palm Hill High School to Cameron Fields, the point guard, and captain of the basketball team. Cameron Fields, the most cliché of clichés, the self-proclaimed king of the high school briefly acknowledged his teammate's declaration and for a split second he almost passed the ball to the lanky boy, however last minute, the boy's ego ruined his chances of being a team player. Instead of passing it to the freshman that his coach had subbed in during practice, Cameron pivoted on his heels, the new basketball sneakers that his sister got him for his birthday squeaking on the gymnasium's linoleum tiles, and went in and shot a jumper.
The textured orange ball followed his arms command and made a short journey to the rim of the basketball net, before gravity took over and the ball fell through, giving Cameron's team yet another point.
Cameron's team had "won," however considering this was only a practice game between varsity and JV, it really wasn't anything more than Cameron showing off to his friends and annoying the lowerclassmen since they never even had a chance to hold the ball, let alone dribble it. "Let's go! Can't nobody touch the Panthers! We are going to kill it this season!" Cameron broke out into a cocky grin slamming the ball on the floor, it's rubber exterior bouncing briefly before rolling towards his unimpressed coach's feet.
"Nah man, can't nobody touch you Cameron. You're gonna kill it this season." Jamal Cruz, Cameron's best friend, laughed. Jamal was a shorter boy, however his big mouth made up for his height, as he could talk anyone's ear off within a matter of minutes. It was truly a gift.
The team's coach, Randal Taylor, blew his whistle, to signify that practice was over, all of the young men began to file out to the locker rooms to change and go home for the day. None of them were tired, as Cameron had done all the work per usual, they just had to fill in spaces on the court while he made all of the shots.
"I expect to see all of you bright and early for practice panthers!" Running a hand through his short salt and pepper hair he sighed as he searched for his "star" player.
"Fields! A word with you!"
Gaining the young boy's attention, Cameron broke into a slight jog to meet up with his coach on the other side of the gym. "What's up coach?"
"Not your grades, apparently. The quarter is almost over, and your failing not one, but two classes." Coach Taylor bemuses, adjusting the whistle around his neck. It was a typical occurrence for Coach Taylor and Cameron to bump heads, because they were too much alike.
Before Randal became Coach Taylor at Palm Hill High, he was once on a path to get drafted and go pro, however his dreams were shattered when he suffers a devastating knee injury when he landed awkwardly after the play, tearing his ACL. Now, he dedicates his time to teens, hoping to inspire them and be what he couldn't. Unfortunately, for Cameron Fields, he was exactly like Randal, and that's why he was always so hard on him.
