✅ My Sister's Problem

50. Acceptance

I ran across the court. We were on concrete here and the ball bounced differently, but somehow that didn't seem to matter. I'd been learning for weeks now, and every time Hugo could give me a one-on-one session I could tell how much I was improving. I needed those days to show me what I should be doing, as well was the friendly pick-up games to let me master the skills I already understood, and the more competitive days that would really test my abilities.

There were two huge guys between me and the basket. No way I could shoot from here. I didn't know their names, but I knew Chain was closing on me from the other side, desperate to close me in. I spun around to put my body between him and the ball, and locked eyes with Hugo. He was open, nobody marking him because they'd been so sure they would be able to steal before I could pass.

Time stopped for a moment. The ball was in my hands, judging the distance between us. The big guys were moving fast, sidestepping to come between us, and Chain was circling round me in the other direction. A couple of seconds and they would have blocked me off. I hesitated, and let my gaze dance back and forth between Hugo and the spot where I would need to bounce if I wanted to get it to him smoothly. It would bounce less than it would on asphalt, but I could adjust for that now. The only difference that mattered was how much it would hurt if I fell. I held Hugo's gaze, hesitating as I watched. They'd covered half the distance now, and there was no chance I would get a clear shot. Maybe I could hit the target.

Then I knew that Hugo wasn't expecting a pass. I thought about what he would do if we were in the opposite positions, and I could see it so clearly in my mind's eye. Some silent part of my subconscious mind was probably trying to guess the angles as well, working out where I was standing. They wanted to stop a pass, they could see which way I was facing. I'd never done this for real, and I'd tried it a dozen times with careful coaching on the Eisens' driveway. No way I could try that in a real game.

I looked through the fence behind Hugo. All the spectators gathering to watch a game that was unexpectedly dramatic, between people that most of them probably didn't even know. Ginny was there, cheering me on. And Nadine was there too. In the last few weeks she'd started coming to watch, and I thought she might actually have understood Hugo's laser-focus on his game. And then I knew I had to be good. I had to show that I had improved; not to win the game, or to impress Hugo. But because standing still would never get me anywhere. It was a risk, but I had to try.

I nodded to Hugo, and threw my hands forwards. And at the last second, my right hand moved faster, jerking to the left. To anyone watching my movements, it was a clumsy pass. The ball came out of my hands at an angle, too high and too short. The big guys laughed, knowing they didn't need to intercept. And then they looked where the ball was flying, off to one side out of my field of vision. Not towards the hoop; I'd tried that a few times, but never made it. But under the hoop, to where Meghan was standing waiting. She caught the ball, slammed it against the ground once, and sent it right back. Before the other guys could react I had turned on the spot, taking my shot. The odds were low, I knew that. But I had to try. That was what mattered; moving forward, even when we were already six points behind. Even when it was so much beyond my skill.

The hoop rang like a bell, and everybody held their breath waiting to see which way the ball would fall.

* * *

"You did great!" Nadine greeted me after the game, amazed by my performance. She'd been there to watch me a couple of times, but this time everybody had really done their best. We had lost in the end; by such a large margin that a couple of points for my missed shots wouldn't have made any difference.

"Could have done better."

"You always can. I can't believe you only started this summer. He really is a great teacher, huh?"

"Yeah. I still haven't mastered that weird trick where he can shoot without looking. It's like the position of the hoop is burned into his mind, or he can smell it or something. That time when they all came out to block my pass..."

"He would have scored straight off and not needed to pass to the kid first. But you did good. Almost got the point. That's something worth celebrating, right? Always getting better. Let's get ice cream to celebrate."

"Yeah. But I'm sweating like a horse too. Need to get changed before anything." And that was true as well, if not exactly honest. I retreated into the bathroom at Brunchietta, stuffing my sports gear into a large Ziploc bag that would hopefully contain any odor until they were in the washing machine. I had spare clothes with me because I'd known the game would be intense today. But there was one more reason I needed to get changed.

I didn't need diapers. I always had to remind myself of that. I was only wearing them as part of the punishment that was supposed to teach Lindy to own up to her own actions. Mum didn't make me wear them all day; going to play sports was one clear exception, because there was some chance of clothes getting torn. Or even the nightmare scenario of an injury sending me to hospital; I didn't want to be in a situation where I would need to explain what I was wearing. So Mum gave me permission not to wear them, provided that I put one on again just as soon as possible. Before coming home, in fact, because I knew Lindy suspected I'd try to get out of wearing them if I got the chance. She didn't know me as well as she thought.

I had one of the UFO ones in my bag today. They were easier because they were pull-ups, although it wasn't quite so easy when I knew a friend was waiting for me to change outside the bathroom. Ten minutes later I was coming out, as always a little nervous in case there was some detail about my movement that people might notice. It was still strange wearing diapers, even after a couple of weeks, and every time I put them on I found myself feeling a little childish and giggly. Just imagining myself as if just changing my clothes could make me young again. It was weird, and I didn't want anyone else to know, but somehow it was comforting.

That wouldn't last long, I knew. I'd been wearing them for half the summer now, and Lindy had too. But there was only a week and a half left before our annual trip to the beach house, and Mum had promised that we would both be allowed to act like big girls again before the trip. What we wore at night was up to us, if we thought it might need some more protection. But my daytime punishment was due to end this weekend. I didn't think Lindy would prolong it by using her trick with the water bowl again; she'd done it a couple of times over the last few weeks, but I didn't think she wanted to be stuck wearing diapers any longer than she had to.

There were not real signs of remorse or guilt from my sister. Just the silent acknowledgement that if she did it again this week, she would be hurting herself more than me. I figured that would be enough to stop this silly game, especially when she hadn't woken up wet in three weeks. But if she stopped doing that for her own self-interest, that was good enough for me. She would have learned a lesson in a way. And I had no doubt Mum would find some excuse to punish me again at some point in the future. I'd told her that the pull-ups were weirdly comfortable, and she must have noticed an occasional smile in among all the blushes when she wanted to change me. She knew that it was only using diapers that bothered me; having to wear them made me feel safer, like I didn't have to blame myself for anything that happened because I was just a little kid. And after a few weeks of that feeling, I was actually starting to admit it to myself now. Mum probably knew what I liked better than I did myself. So... if she saw I was stressing about things, she would have an excuse to diaper me. She really was that smart.

I realised that I'd barely been paying attention to my friend, and turned back to the ice cream, and the conversation. Hugo hadn't invited us for a post-game celebration today because he had to dash off to do something with Harper, some kind of family thing that was probably as boring as anything. I didn't envy him. So it was just me and Nadine celebrating today. The conversation was lively and never stayed on one topic too long. Never too serious. She mentioned Hugo once, but only briefly, and I hoped that meant she was starting to blame him a little less. And she mentioned Jim as well; he was using the phone case she'd given him now, and just seeing that made her feel on top of the world.

I could ignore the familiar bulk between my legs as we chatted, and I was sure by now that nobody would ever be able to see the thickness of the diaper under my sweatpants. Still, there was a little embarrassment from knowing it was there, and from remembering that Lindy would probably ask for confirmation that I was wearing one like I was supposed to. I just had to keep my focus off it for another day or two, and then I wouldn't see them again unless I wanted to.

That was all the reassurance I needed.