Tension
"Yael, saan ka pupunta? Magsisimula na ang laro!" I said, irritation creeping into my voice. He wasn't acting like himself again.
"Tatae 'tol, sasama ka?" he replied, his tone boastful as if he didn't care about the game.
I wanted to call him out, but part of me sensed he just wanted to be alone. It was frustrating. How could he act this way right before our match? I shook my head, trying to focus on what really mattered.
"I'm gonna go talk to him," Rocco said, looking determined.
I hesitated. Part of me thought Yael needed space, but I knew if we lost today, he'd end up blaming himself again. I sighed, feeling the weight of the situation. "Alright, but just be careful. He's not in the best headspace right now."
Rocco nodded, heading off to find Yael. I just hoped he could reach him before the game started. We needed him in the right mindset, not wrestling with his own thoughts.
Magsisimula na ang laro, at wala pa rin sina Yael. Wala na kaming choice kundi ituloy ang laro. Mukhang naiintindihan din ng coach ang sitwasyon, kaya hindi pa siya nag-aalala kay Yael.
As the whistle blew to start the game, the court erupted with energy. I positioned myself at the top of the key, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline. The crowd was loud, cheering us on, but in the back of my mind, I couldn't shake the worry about Yael.
The first few minutes were intense. We moved the ball quickly, executing plays with precision. I could hear Gavin calling for the ball, cutting through the defense. I passed it to him, and he sank a three-pointer, igniting the crowd. But even in that moment of victory, I couldn't help but glance over to the sidelines, hoping to see Yael's familiar face.
As the first half progressed, we fought hard. Our opponents were aggressive, matching our every move. I scored a couple of layups, and the score was close, but without Yael's energy and skill, something felt off.
Halfway through the second quarter, the opposing team went on a run, capitalizing on our hesitations. I could feel the pressure mounting, the need for our star player. I glanced at the bench again, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
With just a minute left in the half, we were down by five. I took a deep breath, rallying the team. "Let's push! We can still close this gap!" Javier nodded, determination in his eyes.
I couldn't help but notice the change in Gavin. He was more energetic now, fully in the game. His movements were sharp, and every time he made a play, the crowd roared with approval. It was like he had tapped into a different gear, and for a moment, it almost made me forget about Yael's absence.
He was diving for loose balls, hustling on defense, and his confidence was contagious. I found myself feeding off his energy, rallying with the team despite the pressure. Gavin was making clutch shots and setting up plays that had the crowd on their feet.
As we headed into halftime, I caught his eye, and for the first time, I felt a spark of hope. Maybe we could pull this off even without Yael. I just hoped he would show up soon; I knew how much he needed to be a part of this. But right now, watching Gavin thrive, I felt a sense of unity on the court that gave me hope for the second half.
We executed a fast break, passing the ball seamlessly. I found myself at the rim again, going up for a layup. The ball swished through the net just as the buzzer rang, but I couldn't celebrate. All I could think about was Yael. Would he make it in time?
As the first half came to a close, the scoreboard showed a glaring truth: we were down by twelve points, and it felt like the opposing team had taken control of the game. Their players celebrated every basket, feeding off their crowd's energy, while our team trudged back to the bench, the weight of disappointment heavy in the air.
