Blocked |c.h.|

01:00

Calum was a panting and sweaty mess as he dribbled up the court, crossing one of his teammates and making it into the paint.

"Ball!" He heard his teammate and bestfriend, Luke, shout. He passed the ball to him and watched as the blue eyed boy dribbled the ball.

Calum moved around, making the defender that was on his tail, nearly break his ankles to keep up with him. Luke couldn't find an open opportunity, though he was near the net, passing it back to the kiwi boy.

"Shoot it!" He heard a voice yell from the side and of course it was his other bestfriend, Tai.

Cal set up his shot, only to have it knocked out of his hand by another teammate, moving the ball and team back down the opposite end of the court. He groaned in frustration and twisted to run the other way.

The coach blew his whistle, causing the boys to pause, eyeing the older man as he approached them.

"Hood, can you explain how an open shot gets blocked?" Coach Wilson asked, crossing his arms over his chest and raising his brows. He couldn't believe, for the third time that day, his star guard and player hasn't gotten the shots he'd normally get.

Calum licked his lips and ran a hand through his sweaty curly mane, catching his breath as he spoke.

"I thought-"

"There's your problem right there," The Coach interrupted, placing a hand on his shoulder. And Calum had to hold back from rolling his eyes. "You're thinking on shots you never had to think about before. It came naturally." The man shook his head and furrowed his brows.

"Ah, Coach it's not his fault I'm a thief." His teammate, Norris Cole, joked. Some of the other players chuckled and slapped five with the brown boy. Calum rolled his eyes and ignored Norris when he playfully bumped into him, hoping to get him to crack a smile. But, he was too caught into thoughts to even worry about his overly hype teammate.

Coach blew his whistle again and told them to settle down and start doing suicides. The court was filled with groans and swears until the assistant coach blew his whistle which basically meant 'if I have to blow this thing again then you're doing two more sets of forty suicides so they sucked it up and started running.

Calum was about to turn and join the rest of the team until Coach Wilson grabbed his attention.

"You go sit this one out, Hood."

"Like on the bench?!" Calum blurted, completely offended. He was making him sound as if he was too fatigued to do simple drills. The boy realized he was having an off day but he knew he could handle a few suicides.

"Would you rather the locker room?" Coach Wilson asked rhetorically, cocking a brow at the talkative boy. He knew Calum had to be out of it to talk back to him. The boy sighed and bit his tongue to prevent any further damages.

And he started to feel that a break was well needed.

So, he shook his head. "No, Coach." The boy sighed soon after and started towards the bench.

Calum felt like he was dragging his feet along as he approached the seated area. He had so much on his plate. Not only did he have to worry about his grades and the fact that he's a sophomore in college. But he had everyone depending on him to carry the team on his back and get the W in the Finals.

Oh, but it doesn't stop there.

Recently he's been off, a lot longer than usual, and it's now reaching the fourth day which happens to be a Friday, which also happens to be two days before the opening game!