It's Bigger Than Basketball

5

   I felt like an idiot. It had been almost two weeks since she last replied, disappearing again. It was like I was a toy she'd only play with when she was bored, and the only wrong thing about it was how I continued to allow it.

Why the fuck can't I let this go?

"I'm starting to write my new album, so before things get crazy, when are you inviting me to your game?" She asks out of the blue, as she usually does. My eyes rolled from how long she made me wait again. This game was becoming too familiar. I foolishly decided to reply anyways.

"Pick a date. I'll have your ticket ready." I message her back after the intense team workout at the gym. I headed to the showers with a smile, and one of my teammates I've got close to bumped into me, laughing

"What's got your panties in a bunch, Junior?" my teammate Tyler teased

"Nothing serious," I lied. It was serious. It was the only distraction I've ever had these past few years. He'd think I'm crazy if I told him about her and he found out we haven't even hung out. Tell me I was tripping like I'm in love.

"I'm free this weekend." She replies as I rush to the lockers and skip the shower. All I wanted to do was talk to her if she stopped running and kept responding.

"Saturday. 7:30, two tickets. You and Shawn, right?" I asked despite wishing he wouldn't come. I needed more time to figure out why she had such a hold on me away from him, but whatever she offered, I'd accept. Even as friends, as complicated as that'll be since I've mostly imagined her on lonely nights in not-so-friendly ways.

"Just me." She replies

"I can't wait to see you," I admit to her stupidly at the excitement it'd just be her.

"Really?"

"I mean, yeah? It's been so long. I'm glad you still have my jersey." I reply awkwardly

"I'll see you Saturday ❤️" she sends back, ending the conversation without a choice.

I felt some disappointment, but at least in a few days, I'll see those chocolate brown eyes again.

I worked extra hard the next few days because my best games were when she was watching me. I needed to ensure I could impress her, especially if her boyfriend wasn't there. I had a shot to at least talk to her after the game, alone, unlike how things went two years ago. I put on more than a pound of muscle by Saturday, yet the nerves were still more than ever. We'd be playing the Los Angeles Lakers, a good team with LeBron James. The game would be on ESPN for everyone, but the only set of eyes that mattered was hers, and she'd be front row to watch. It's showtime.

I walked out of the pre-game shoot-around and looked for the floor seat I bought for Camila. She had just found her chair and was smiling at me already with my old bulls jersey and ripped skinny jeans. Her black high heels made her a bit taller, but I had grown almost two inches since she last saw me, so it wouldn't make a difference. She looked breathtaking. I bounced my ball and walked over to her with a huge grin. I was so strung on how gorgeous she looked. Her hair was wavy and flowing freely, her lips shined with lip gloss, and I had to control myself from looking at them for too long.

"You came," I say nervously with a childish smile.

"Of course! You paid. I wouldn't stand you up," she says, giggling

"So if I buy more games, you'll be here?" I ask hopefully. She smiles and lets her hair fall forward, hiding the blush on her face

"Maybe." She teases

"You don't have to. Please, just don't disappear for too long again," I beg, unwilling. It's not easy losing your mind over someone who never gave you the chance to understand why I even feel this way, but I hated having to beg. Admit to someone how much control they have over you.

"I'm sorry it turned out the way it did." She says with a cute pout, finally connecting eyes with me again. The game hasn't even started, and my legs already feel weak.

"But- I'm here now," she says, twirling her hair through her fingers

"Not with that jersey, though," I tell her jokingly

"Well, that's what makes it worth showing up." She says jokingly

"Oh yeah?" I tease

"Duh, I need your jersey at the end of the game if you win," she teased.

"IF I win?"

"I can't have a jersey that took an L" she flipped her hair and giggled uncontrollably.I smiled so hard my cheeks hurt, and a bunch of fans in the audience were starting to take photos of us interacting.

"This dub will be for you." I winked at her and ran to the huddle as the coach yelled over to me

"We'll see."

I hope she did. It was my overall best game ever-another one with her watching. I played 33 minutes most of my career and scored 30 points, five rebounds, eight assists, and three steals. I loved the energy the arena had, but nothing came close to the thrill of hearing and seeing Camila cheer me on with every good play I made. She was like a muse. I quickly realized that maybe she couldn't leave my mind because she wasn't a distraction but simply motivation to be a better version of myself I never knew I could be. I'm just not so sure I'm good enough at the game of love to be worthy of her love. The ball is all that I got. If it's in her court,Would that be enough?