Winchester High| 16+

Chapter 1: Pranks

"Malik, can you wrap this up soon!" I yelled out from across the basketball field from the benches.
My brother, Malik, was going head-to-head with his best friend: Jerry. I mean, "J" (Dude throws a fit when I refer to him as Jerry.)
They ignored me when I asked them to hurry up and continued dribbling and bouncing around the court. Each clap against the concrete fed my urge to tap my sneakers together and fly away.

For context, every day Malik's supposed to take me to school because he has the car. Unfortunately, more often than not, he gets caught up in a game, causing me to be late every day. Most people wouldn't think of me as such, but I can appreciate punctuation. If I could not miss school every day then it'd be worth it to not disappoint the authority figures that determine my life.

Despite all that, I can wallow in the sensation that is this time of day: the blue hour is what it's called according to my photography teacher, Mr. Hopskins, sometimes I just call it early winter's gift. The air has a fresh and comforting aura. It's the kind of crispy air that makes you decide to take mindful deeper breaths, so I can't help but do it when I have the chance.
I looked at the two again which was a mistake, as it resulted in a frustration-induced interruption of my deeper breaths. I thought, I know they heard me. Jerry was crawling around the court bobbing his head and all and that got me real angry how he was doing it.

I walked right onto the court and plastered an enthusiastic smile on my face, then bent my knees over like they do when they play, slapped my palms together like a seal, and shouted, "Okay, fine, let's play. Pass me the ball. Pass!" Malik and J stopped right in their tracks and gave me the most bent-out-of-shape looks. I don't do physical activity, that much I know. I look like a basketball player, I'm not one.
Malik shrugged and hurled the big rough ball at me. "Okay, lil bro, let's see it!" He was really excited even though I completely interrupted the game. They started moving around on the court like crabs or baboons and started swarming me. I don't know how this is a hot commodity for girls.
    "C'mon!" J shouted.
I clenched the ball and let the "Michael Jordan" fill up my body. Then I, ever so smugly, turned around and hurled the ball into a nearby trash can.

They both booed and threw their hands up at me and Malik threw me some name as he's entitled to. (Sort of just like how I'm entitled to throw his basketball in the trash.)
Oh, I thought as Jerry did that weird basketball jog to go fish out his ball. I didn't know it was his. I felt bad about that. I turned and sat back down on the benches.

Malik and I go to school together. He's one year older than me, leading him to believe he can tell me what to do, usually to my fault. He stomped over to me and scolded me while he grabbed all his stuff to leave. I actually felt bad so I punished myself by not allowing myself any leisurely deep breaths anymore.

We walked down to his that was parked just beyond the basketball court beside a broken parking meter. The windows were frosted and the snow iced the bottom of the car, but I still craved a chariot, if not for merit, then for limitless freedom.
We didn't talk, but what was there to say? I don't like saying sorry, and neither does he. This resulted in a silence, something I've always hated. So I got the fantastic idea to try to break it into a million tiny icicles with a fun fact.

I went all around the corners of my brain to find a fact, but landed on this: "Did you know that 'Mal' is a prefix," I started. He sucked his teeth to that and continued focusing on the road. He tended to suck his teeth and whatever I said. But I kept on and tried again.

"It comes from the Latin word 'malus,' which means "bad" or "evil" Meaning, Mom was probably out to get you, or maybe she knew you were gonna fulfill the prophecy, Malik." I leaned back and giggled to myself, basking in my self-proclaimed platinum-level humor.