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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The whistle blows, slicing through the din of the crowd, and I bounce the ball once, twice—my heart thumping like a bass drum. The gym is packed, the air thick with tension and the smell of sweat. I can feel the energy radiating from the bleachers, fuelling my fire. Today's my day.
As the ball springs back to my palm, I glance up at the scoreboard. We're down by four with just two minutes left in the game. I can see my teammates, faces slick with perspiration, their bodies glistening under the fluorescent lights.
Anna, my teammate from Montjuïc High School in Barcelona and best friend since kindergarten, is at the top of the key, eyeing me with that determined look. She knows I'm about to make my move.
"Allie?" Shaun's voice takes me out of my reverie.
I'm in basketball practice. In Stafford High's indoor court, not Montjuïc. Sitting on the bench while my basketball babies practise free throws.
Today is Tuesday, 8th of October, 2024. Not 2023. I have zoned out for a moment, lost in a memory of a basketball match from last year, when I was attending my former high school in Barcelona.
"Uh, what?" My eyes go back into focus. "What is it, Shaun?"
"Are you okay?" he asks in a worried tone.
His dark brown eyes scan mine in an analytical mode. His leaning posture makes him seem like he's towering over me, but since our height difference is huge, we can't help it. I'm only 5' 64" while he's way above 6'. His brown hair is sweaty and clings to his skin.
He's so close to me that I panic for a moment. How come I haven't noticed him being this close?
"Sure, just recalling something." I stand up and stay beside him.
These last few days, I've been daydreaming about my basketball practice at my former high school. I miss it.
I don't give it much importance, but I love the rhythm of a basketball match, the stakes, the challenge. Being a coach doesn't quite match the experience. Sure, I get a good view of the game, but I'm too far from the actual action.
I miss playing.
So much.
I sigh. Shaun stares at me with a raised eyebrow as he grabs his towel and says, "Allie, I don't want to bother you or anything, but Freeman, Sato, and Harper need to be... reassured, you know."
He wipes off his handsome and squarish face and his thick neck. The tendons in his developed biceps and triceps flex with ease.
"Reassured?" I eye him with an inquisitive look.
The mentioned trio are whispering among themselves, standing in the court, as they wait for their turn in line to shoot their free throws that afternoon.
"You know what I mean," Shaun whispers, leaning a bit more towards me so that I can hear him.
Oh, of course. My haters need to be put in their places.
