Dye | Tyrus/Ambi

Part 8: I Still Don't Believe It

TJ's POV

"Yo!" comes Reed's voice. 

I lower my hands, which were about to throw the basketball toward the net, and walk over to where he stands beside Lester in the doorway to the empty gymnasium.

"Hey," I say. 

"What's up?" Lester wonders. 

"Just getting some more practice in before tryouts next week," I reply. 

"Cool," Lester responds. "So you're just gonna hang out here all morning?"

"As long as I don't get kicked out by the P.E. teachers."

"Yo, I'll let Chloe know you're here," Reed mentions. "I bet she'd want to watch for a bit." He gives me a wink. 

"Okay," I say with a shrug. 

"Cool," Lester says. "Well, we'll see you later."

"Yup," I respond. 

They disappear out of the doorway, and I walk back across the gym to the basketball hoop on the far wall. I take another few shots for the net, getting two out of three in. On the fourth, My aim gets warped by the soft voice coming from the closer set of gym doors on my left. While the ball misses the net by several feet, I turn to smile at the face entering the gym. 

"Hi," Cyrus says. 

"You didn't run away this time," I respond, referencing that last time he found me here. 

His cheeks turn pink as he smiles, saying, "No. But if you want me to run away, I still can . . ." 

"Uh, how about don't do that?" I offer, which makes him giggle. 

I walk over to pick up the ball from where it rolled past me. Cyrus watches as I toss it from half-court, making the ball in without even touching the rim. It bounces back over to me, and I catch it as I make my way back over to the boy. 

"Impressive," Cyrus says. "My friend, Buffy can do that."

"Sure," I respond, "but does she look as good as me doing it?"

My smug smile causes him to grin. 

"Didn't think so," I say. 

I launch the ball up again, making another successful throw. 

"I wish I could do that," he says, "but I'm awful at all sports."

"I could show you?" I suggest. 

He smiles and walks over to me. I give him the ball and he holds it up, his elbows sticking outward on both sides. 

"Not like that," I say. "You only use one hand to throw. The other is just support."

I reach one hand up to adjust his position, but, the instant my hand touches his, I don't want to let go. His eyes watch as I alter the way his right hand is holding the ball. Not quite ready to let go, I step behind him to put my left hand on his as well, feeling the warmth of his body up against mine as I try not to lose my focus, but it's difficult when there's this feeling like a rolling tidal wave inside of me. It ripples through my nerves, making me feel as though I'm on the brink of something amazing, but I don't know what. I just know that I can't let this boy go or else this rush will fall back out to sea. 

"And then," I say softly, "just throw like this."

Together, we toss the ball, my hands guiding his. The ball swooshes into the net, and Cyrus turns to me with a smile. The tidal wave to retreats as he spins out of my arms, and I feel disappointed, because I liked having him there.