He'd gone beyond his player ways for her.
She'd grown beyond her traumatic past for him.
Together, their love was beyond.
Until one fatal accident.
__________
When she loses the love of her life in a car crash, Althea has nothing left in California...
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*ASHER'S POV*
November 4, 2016.
High block. Dribble. A swift crossover to avoid Max. A quick glance at the defense and the clear basket. Then, I gathered some momentum, jumped, and—
PHWEEE!
The ball went off course as all my nerves stood on end at the shrilling sound. Though not as shrilling as the whizzing call that followed.
"Asher! Get your ass here!"
One whistle blow, and the old chunk couldn't move, more out of breath than I was after 40 minutes of working out.
"A problem, coach?" I turned towards the sidelines, plastering a tight smile above my clenching jaw before facing the coach Gyles who looked me up and down from his small stool.
"What were you doing?"
Baking a pizza. Wasn't it obvious?
Probably not for his beady eyes, so I threw my hands up to point at the basket.
"I was about to score a decisive point when you whistled for the third fucking time."
"Yeah, and do you know why?" He crossed his arms over his chest, the nylon fabric of his tee shirt straining over his large paunch, almost as much as my jaw as I replied,
"Because you like your new whistle?"
If I'd known last Summer, I would've chosen something bigger to drown in the pool for the end-of-the-year prank.
"Yes—No!" he gasped, a hand over his precious new whistle. "Because you don't follow the strategy we voted."
"You mean the strategy that got the other side to lose the ball? What did you want me to do? Pass the ball when I'm the best shooter, and I knew I could score? 'Cause that's the aim of the game in case you forgot."
And not losing time like we were doing right now, the seconds ticking through my ribcage as he continued his sermon.
"Basketball is a team game in case you forgot. It's the third time you don't listen to any of the instructions and almost make a foul. So now you go on the bench, and you'll stay there until you start to follow the strategy, even if it takes all season!"
"What's the fuck?! Are you out of your fucking mind?! You don't leave Asher Rohan on the bench!"
Yes, I was talking in the third person because, at the moment, I wasn't Asher; I was a fucking bomb ready to explode.
