Beyond The Court

6. The Prom Problem

A few weeks have passed since that weird cafeteria moment with Kesley, and prom is now the only thing people can talk about. Everywhere I go, someone's asking someone else to prom—huge posters, dramatic speeches in the halls, cheesy serenades outside the gym. It's a lot.

Not that I don't get it. Prom's a big deal for most people, I guess. I just... couldn't care less. I've had enough people asking me to go with them to last a lifetime, though.

"Yo, Izzi, you got a date for prom yet?" some guy yells from across the hallway as I'm heading to class.

I glance down at him—literally *down* because I'm taller than every guy in this school—and shake my head. "Not my thing."

"Come on, you'd look killer!" he jokes, grinning.

I laugh under my breath, more at how clueless he is. "Thanks, but I'm good."

He shrugs and walks away, like he didn't just try to shoot his shot. Points for bravery, I guess.

It's not that I'm not into the idea of prom itself. The problem is the idea of pretending. I'm not going to put on a dress or get dolled up for a guy when that's the last thing I want. I know what they all think—they look at me, the height, the muscles, the baggy clothes, and make their guesses. They're not wrong, but I don't really feel like explaining myself to anyone.

The only people I actually hang out with are my teammates, and they get it. Especially Mack.

"Another one?" Mack asks, dropping down into the chair next to me at lunch, her tray sliding across the table.

I roll my eyes. "Yeah. Another one."

She smirks. "You're like a magnet for these people. I swear, half the guys want to date you because they think you'll carry them through life."

"And the other half want to see if they can take me on the court," I joke, taking a bite of my sandwich. "Which, they can't."

Mack laughs, a full belly laugh that gets the rest of the team's attention. "Right? You'd crush them. The guys here are barely taller than me."

I grin. Mack's the shortest on the team, so the image of her standing next to these guys is hilarious. She's always been the best at cracking me up, which is probably why I'm closest to her out of everyone on the team.

"So, what about you?" I ask, nodding toward her. "Prom? Who are you going with?"

She shrugs. "I dunno. Might just roll up solo, or maybe I'll find someone at the last minute. It's not like anyone's lining up to take *me*."

"Psh, your date's probably scared of you," I tease. "You've got the shortest fuse of anyone I know."

Mack grins. "And you've got the shortest list of people you care about."

"Fair," I admit, taking a sip of my water. "You still thinking about a tux?"

She snorts. "Nah, not this time. Though, you should definitely rock one. Show everyone what they're missing."

I groan, leaning back in my seat. "I'm not going. I've been saying it for weeks."

"You're gonna break so many hearts," Mack says, giving me a fake pout. "All those poor people who've been lining up just to hear you say 'no'—what a tragedy."

"Yeah, yeah," I mutter, shaking my head. "I just don't get the appeal."

Mack leans in, pretending to whisper. "It's because you're secretly an emotionless robot, and you can't handle fun."

I snort. "If being a robot means I don't have to suffer through prom night drama, then sign me up."

The rest of the team is chatting about game stuff and prom plans, but Mack and I just sit there, enjoying the banter. Our season's been perfect so far—undefeated, and we've got a shot at the state title if we keep playing like we have been. That's the only thing I'm focused on.

Well, mostly.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Kesley again, sitting with her group by the windows. I haven't spoken to her in years, and yet somehow she's always there—just on the edge of my mind, even when I don't want her to be.

Mack follows my gaze and raises an eyebrow. "You still hung up on her, huh?"

I snap back to the moment, giving her a look. "I'm not hung up on anyone."

"Sure, sure," Mack says with a grin, clearly not buying it. "That's why you stare at her like you're about to throw a pass to her in the middle of lunch."

"I do not," I protest.

She laughs again. "It's okay, man. We all got our hang-ups."

"Mine's basketball," I say, deadpan. "And that's the only thing I'm focusing on right now."

Mack smirks, leaning back. "Keep telling yourself that."

I roll my eyes but can't help but chuckle. Mack's relentless, but she's also right more often than I'd like to admit.

The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, and we all start gathering our things. Prom's looming, but honestly, it's just another distraction. The real work is on the court, and I've got bigger things to focus on. As we head to our next class, I catch a glimpse of Kesley again—just for a second. She laughs at something one of her friends says, and then she's gone.

I shake it off. I've got games to win. That's all that matters.