You Don't Know..What you Don't Know

Chapter Twenty-Two: Winter

Self-imposed rule: no dating during basketball season.

There simply wasn't time.

Between practices, games, homework, and trying to keep my grades high enough to stay eligible, boys fell to the bottom of the list. The crew still found me between classes, and Phillip stole whatever moments he could, but our schedules were almost mirror images. He had varsity practices and games. I had JV practices and games. Most nights we passed each other in the gym more than we actually talked.

Coach kept reminding me my numbers were unheard of for a freshman.

"If you keep playing like this," he said after practice one afternoon, "don't be surprised if I call you up for varsity during the playoffs."

Those words had lived rent-free in my head ever since.

Tonight was another chance to prove him right.

Our next home game started with Coach's usual speech about heart, hustle, and finishing strong.

As we jogged onto the court during introductions, I spotted Randy, Jake, Gary, and Tim settling into the bleachers. Randy caught my eye and gave me a small nod.

It wasn't much.

Just enough to say, I see you.

On the opposite side of the gym, the varsity team had finished practice early. Their game was tomorrow night, giving Jim, Phillip, and the rest of the guys time to watch ours. Neither Jim nor Phillip had seen me play much this season. Usually one of us was practicing while the other was playing.

Tonight they finally got to watch.

The boys whistled as my name echoed through the gym.

I rolled my eyes, trying not to smile.

Fourth quarter.

We were up by ten.

Twelve and zero.

JV didn't get playoffs or championships, but that didn't matter to us. An undefeated season was something to protect.

Henrico wasn't making it easy.

They were the toughest team we'd faced all year, especially inside. Their forwards lived in the paint, throwing elbows and boxing out like they were fighting for their lives.

Coach had adjusted our offense.

"Keep it outside," he'd said.

That meant me.

I caught another pass beyond the three-point line, squared my shoulders, and started my shooting motion.

The defender bit.

Instead of contesting the shot cleanly, she lunged.

My release was already gone.

When I landed, her foot slid beneath mine.

My right knee twisted.

Pop.

A bolt of white-hot pain exploded through my leg.

I collapsed before I even understood what had happened.

The ball bounced away.

The whistle shrieked.

Then...

Silence.

The entire gym went quiet.

I clutched my knee, screaming.

It hurt worse than anything I'd ever felt.

The athletic trainer sprinted onto the floor.

He knelt beside me, asking questions I barely heard.