Chase & Adrienne

43

CHASE

MONDAY NIGHT

It is so inexplicably nice being back on the court again. It's been over a week since I've worn my uniform, but I feel at home in it. Adrienne is back in the student section, front row, where she belongs. She's having fun, I can tell, and there is so much pride in her eyes. Every time I see her, I can't help but smile, even when I'm out of breath. Danny has this crazy clown makeup smeared across his face, red and blue. I'm thankful that he's taken the more conservative path. There have been too many times where he's sauntered into the gym, shirtless and painted, and security escorts him out immediately. I'm glad he'll be able to stay for this one. That being said, Danny has beef with a particularly crabby ref in this game, so we'll see.

In the third quarter, the point guard for Taylor High bounces the ball off of his foot, sending it out of bounds. Jeremy was guarding him, and Carmen hoots loudly.

"That's my boy!" she proclaims proudly. Jeremy winks at her and jogs back. The ball rolls right into our student section, and Renee retrieves it, passing it to the heavy-set ref that makes his way over. I step right in front of my friends' seats to inbound the ball.

"Aye!" Danny shouts, reaching over to slap me on the butt. Several fans start whistling. I shake my head, laughing at them. I look behind me and lean in toward Adrienne, not bothering to lower my voice.

"Hey, Adrienne," I say slyly, "baseball team aside, do I have the best butt on the basketball team?" I even wiggle my hips a little bit for good measure. Adrienne's face goes red as the whole student section erupts in swoons and hollers.

"We agreed to never speak of that!!" she shouts at me, but she's not angry. We may be together now, but that's not gonna stop me from embarrassing her every chance I get. Besides, I have such good material from our sophomore year adventures in the back of the library. I'm just getting started.

The score racks up quickly, and before I know it, it's the fourth quarter. The clock is dipping dangerously low, and we're not in the lead. Our guys are tired, and Luke and I both have four fouls. If either one of us gets another one, we're out for the night. With 25 seconds left, we're down by 1. It's our ball. We have a perfect play set up, one that gets a shooter open for an easy jump shot at the elbow. From the sidelines, Coach Z. frantically calls the play for Luke, making him our shooter. We inbound the ball, swing it around, and our point guard passes to Luke. In a flash, a defender darts out and steals the ball. The opposing fans cheer like banshees, and Coach Z. is screaming from the bench, "FOUL! FOUL! FOUL!"

Luke is the closest guy to him, and he fouls the Taylor High player. He had no choice. The other team will now gets two free throws, but this is the only way we can get a chance at another possession. We need the ball back to score. This is Luke's fifth foul, and the ref stops the game. Luke face falls instantly. He did what he had to do, but he sacrificed these last few seconds of playing time to do it. Coach Z. pats Luke's back respectfully as Luke takes a seat on the bench. Nolan goes in for Luke. I hope he's ready for these next 14 seconds. It's about to get crazy in this gym. I jog over to Nolan and grab a fistful of his jersey, pulling him closer to me. I raise my voice so he can hear me over the dull roar of the crowd.

"Keep your head in this game, okay?" I instruct him. "I need you to focus."

"Okay, okay," he responds. His eyes are a little wide, but he keeps himself steady. I clap him on the shoulder, we walk to the other side of the court together. Coach Isaiah is biting him nails on the bench furiously.

"We need this rebound, boys," Coach Z. says threateningly. "Someone better grab that ball."

"Two shots," the ref says, giving the ball to the shooter. Our student section is going nuts, trying to throw off the shot. The first one goes in. Coach Z. deflates just a bit, trying to regain his composure before the next shot.