Sharks

Chapter 1 - Eddie

The first thing I heard was the blaring sound of my alarm clock. My hand shot out from under the covers, fumbling to hit the snooze button, but I missed. Groaning, I sat up, rubbing my eyes as the morning sunlight poured through the thin curtains. It was early, too early for a summer day. But today was different—I was getting ready. Basketball tryouts were just around the corner, and there was no time to waste.

I pushed myself out of bed, my bare feet hitting the cool floor. As I stretched, my joints cracked, the sleep still hanging on me. I shuffled to the bathroom, flipping on the light and squinting at the sudden brightness. The mirror above the sink showed a version of me that looked half-alive—hair sticking out in every direction, eyes puffy from sleep. I grabbed my toothbrush, squeezing on some toothpaste, and began brushing my teeth. I stared at my reflection, watching as the toothpaste foamed up.

Thirteen years old, about to enter high school, and I was already feeling the pressure. Basketball was my thing. It had to be. I rinsed my mouth, spitting into the sink, and wiped my face with a towel. I stared at myself for a moment longer, my expression serious. Tryouts were my chance to prove myself, to be more than just another kid with a basketball dream.

"Eddie!" my mom called from the kitchen, her voice carrying through the small apartment. "Breakfast is ready!"

"Coming!" I called back, quickly pulling on some clothes. I grabbed my favorite gray hoodie from the chair—it was a bit worn out, but I liked it that way—and slipped it over my head. My basketball shoes were by the door, where I had left them, ready to go.

I walked out of my room, the smell of toast and peanut butter filling the air. My mom stood by the stove, her hair pulled back, a smile on her face as she handed me a plate. "Eat up," she said. "You'll need your energy if you're planning to play all morning."

I grinned, taking the plate. "Thanks, Ma." The toast was warm, the peanut butter melting slightly, just the way I liked it. I leaned against the counter, eating quickly. My mom watched me, her eyes filled with that mix of pride and worry that she always seemed to have when it came to basketball.

"You're really serious about this, aren't you?" she asked, her voice soft.

I nodded, swallowing a bite. "Yeah. I want to make the team, Ma. High school tryouts are coming up, and I need to be ready."

She smiled, reaching out to ruffle my hair. "I know you'll do great. Just remember, it's not all about winning. Have fun too, okay?"

"Yeah, I know," I said, though in my head, it was hard to think about anything but winning. I wanted to prove myself, to show everyone that I could be more than just another kid trying out. I wanted to be Eddie—the one they remembered.

I finished my toast, rinsed the plate in the sink, and grabbed my basketball from beside the door. It was worn, the leather scuffed from countless hours on the court, but it was mine. I slipped on my shoes, lacing them tight, and grabbed my headphones from the table. Music was my escape, the thing that kept me focused when everything else felt like too much.

"Alright, I'm heading out," I said, opening the door.

"Be careful, Eddie," my mom said, her eyes following me. "And don't come home so late tonight."

"Got it," I said, giving her a thumbs-up. "I'll be back later."

The door closed behind me, and I took a deep breath. The morning air was cool, the city still waking up around me. I put my headphones on, letting the music fill my ears as I dribbled the ball, the sound echoing off the pavement. The park wasn't far—just a few blocks away—and I could already picture the court in my mind, the lines faded, the net hanging by a thread, but it was my sanctuary.

This was it. The beginning of something bigger. High school was coming, and with it, the chance to finally prove myself. I wasn't just Eddie—I was going to be the Eddie that made the team, the Eddie that everyone talked about. And it all started here, on the court, early in the morning, with nothing but my basketball and a dream.

I picked up my pace, the ball bouncing in rhythm with my steps as I made my way to the park. The sun was just starting to rise, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Today was going to be a good day. I could feel it.