** REWRITING ** Tidal Wave

Chapter Twenty-One

Grayson

Ring. Who knew such a monotonous and dull sound could bring me such inner joy. The history class I was taking was super boring. I knew more than the teacher and corrected him daily, not to embarass him, but to make sure my classmates learned the right information.

I pulled my car keys of of my khaki shorts pocket as I walked into the parking lot. There, leaning against my black Jeep, was Kiera. I knew her well enough to ask, "What do you what?"

She grinned at my bluntness and responded with some of her own. "I know you like Ellie."

"So?" I said, clenching my jaw.

"I know she likes you too."

I raised my eyebrows. That was new. "Has she told you that?"

Kiera heistated. "Not exactly, but that doesn't mean that..."

"Doesn't mean what?" I snorted after she didn't finish her sentence. I already knew what she was going to say.

Kiera's expression softened. "It doesn't mean she doesn't."

"Well, I'm pretty sure she doesn't."

"You don't know that."

"You don't either," I shot back. Kiera rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. I was just trying to help." She hitched her backpack further up on her shoulder and started to walk away. "But if you really like her I have an idea..." she trailed off. I forced my mouth to stay shut as she took one step away. Then another. Then another. I couldn't take it anymore.

"Wait!" She spun around, grinning ear to ear.

"I knew you would come to your senses." She skipped over. "Now, lets get to work."

Three months later

Our plan had failed. Horribly. Ellie hadn't looked my way since November and it didn't seem like she was planning to anytime soon. Our tutoring sessions had gone all but extinct; apparently she didn't need my help anymore but her test grades begged to differ.

It seemed like like she went out of her way to avoid me. We now sat at different lunch tables. I sat with my basketball buddies and she sat with hers. I didn't even know she played basketball.

But she was good. Really good. She made varsity without even breaking a sweat. I went to the girls' home opener and she was easily the best on the court. She played shooting guard and swished three after three after three. Don't get me wrong, Ellie wasn't a ball hog, she was a great passer. But the ball usually came back to her. The rest of the team knew she was the best.

I went to every single one of her games. Never missed one. Not one. I loved seeing her on the court. It was like the ball was her extra appendage. She moved so naturally, it made everything she did seem easy. But I knew it wasn't. At least for me. I made the varsity boys' team as a freshman and it had taken me years to successly do a spin back dribble on the court. When Ellie did it, it looked effortless. Like she had woken up one morning and said 'Hey, I'm going to do a spin back dribble' then just did it. That's how good she was.

Going to Ellie's games was one of the few ways I ever saw her. We didn't have any any classes together, our lunch table had falled apart and our tutoring sessions weren't a thing anymore. I only saw her outside of school at the annual Sunday night Taylor-Parker dinner. Yes, it had started up again but it wasn't the same. I don't think it could ever be. The parents did all the talking and when they finally excused us, we all hung out in the den. The boys and I usually played Madden 25 while Ellie sat in the corner with her nose in her phone. A phone that I pretty sure no longer had my number. She never called. Never texted.