Stafford High School. Allie Casas is her coach's right hand. But due to his poor health, she must step in despite the challenges ahead.
Osborne High School. With a sharp eye and a natural talent for shooting three-pointers, Robbie Sparks is the star...
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"Great," coach Owens says, flashing a smile at me. "You're on time."
I smile even though I'm still panting because I've run all the way to Osborne High's basketball court ever since I left the subway. "I thought I wasn't," I manage to say between deep panting breaths.
"Let me present you Mr Richards, today's referee." He points at a balding man in his fifties. "And this is my friend, Josh Whittaker," he says, pointing towards a tall man in his forties with a few grey hairs on his sideburns who was standing right next to him. "He's Osborne High's basketball team coach."
Behind them, both teams are practising. The guys in my team, all clad in their green, yellow, and black uniforms, are doing some stretching exercises while the Osborne High's are shooting some free throws. The bright red and black of their uniforms make them quite menacing.
"We were in college together," coach Whittaker says.
"More like I coached you on the college's team," coach Owens replies, patting his arm with a steady hand. To be honest, he's in a quite strong shape despite being in his sixties and having bone cancer. "Anyway, Josh. This is Allie Casas, 13th year. She's one of the new additions to the team this year. She comes from abroad, from Barcelona."
"Are you from Barcelona?" coach Whittaker asks, arching an eyebrow.
"Yes. My father is a busy businessman who travels a lot," I explain. "So, I managed to convince him to let me do the 13th year here, in England. I'd love to go to University of Kent next year."
Shaun, the captain of my team, orders his teammates around while the coaches and I talk. He shoots a glimpse at me with his sweet dark brown eyes every now and then. His short brown hair doesn't get dishevelled in the least during his warming exercises.
I wish he'd stop doing that. Why isn't he focusing on warming up like the rest?
Then, coach Whittaker mods, smiling. "So, you love basketball?"
"Indeed, I do," I reply with pride.
"She charmed me with her skills the first day," coach Owens says as he pats my back and smiles. I love those puffy cheeks of his when he does so. "Just a few days ago, actually."
"Stafford High hasn't got a female basketball team, has it?" coach Whittaker asks.
"Sadly, no," coach Owens replies. "Our school is under-funded. The staff won't accept to create a female team. There's never been any demand for it, though. That's why she turned to us. And since she cannot play in any official match, she suggested going into coaching, which she does splendidly."
"I hope to become a great coach one day," I add with a smile, which coach Whittaker returns but it soon fades away, as if he has done it half-heartedly.
I frown at him and press my lips into a thin line.
What's that supposed to mean? That he doesn't believe I can do this? That I'm just a replacement until coach Owens comes back—and that's it. That I shouldn't expect anything more?
