Shadow

Chapter 3

My eyes widened as I noticed the ball flying towards me at a dramatically slow speed. My hands flew protectively towards my face, hoping that the ball would bounce off my arms and someone would get back to trying to throw it into the hoops. Unfortunately, I caught it. God damn you reflexes.

For a second, everyone stopped, waiting for me to do something.

"Raven!" Zayn exclaimed, breaking the silence, "Here! Pass here!"

I looked down at the basketball in my hands. Although basketball was my best sport, I was trying to put up a persona. I'd gone with something along the lines of... damsel in distress, uncoordinated klutz... cute clumsy girl... you get the gist.

Being a professional basketball player was definitely not along those lines.

I started to dribble extremely slowly towards the hoops. Multiple people attempted to intercept the ball from me, but surprisingly, my dribbling skills were portrayed poorly enough to prevent anyone from doing so.

How? Allow me to explain. If the ball is being dribbled barely 30 centimetres from the ground, there's very little space for others to intercept it. I continued dribbling towards the hoop.

"Raven!" I heard Zayn's voice through the chaos, "I'm free!"

I looked to Zayn, seeing that he had no opponent guarding him. I sighed in relief and picked the ball up to pass it to him. Zayn effortlessly began dribbling the ball away, as I stood and watched him. He pounced at the hoop and slammed the ball into it, earning cheers from the team.

Brilliant, now I just stand in a corner and hope that people forget that I exist. The ball was returned to the referee and he walked to the middle to begin the game.

"Raven, come here," he called, gesturing to the middle ring of the court, "And Jake, you come here."

I rolled my eyes and walked towards the middle of the court. I dragged myself to the middle of the court and awaited my opponent. I expected someone large, muscular and intimidating to step in front of me, increasing my chances of portraying myself as a clumsy teenager that couldn't exercise for the love of her life.

Instead, a short, thin boy stepped in front of me. He gave me a short smile while pushing his green, thick-rimmed glasses further up his nose. I returned his gesture and looked towards the referee.

"Okay," he shouted, "Three... two.. one.."

He launched the ball into the air. This was going to be too easy. I leapt into the air, my fingers brushing against the rigid surface of the ball. I closed my eyes, hoping that someone would catch the ball so I didn't have to do anything.

I spoke too soon. As I opened my eyes, I realised that the short, thin boy standing in front of me merely seconds ago was rushing towards the hoop, dribbling the ball furiously at his side. I cursed and ran behind my team members, who groaned as the little boy pounced at the hoop and scored a goal.

....

"That wasn't so bad," Zayn said, flashing his dimpled smile as we walked out of the Sports Building for lunch.

I rolled my eyes, "Right, 19 to 4. Great game."

Zayn chuckled, "It's the game that matters, not the outcome. You tried, and that's what counts," he smiled, "Plus, we were playing against people that have been playing basketball forever, you did well."

"Thanks," I smiled. Mission accomplished.

"Hey, Zayn!" A third voice interrupted, "Great game!"