Dye | Tyrus/Ambi

Part 21: Is That TJ?

Cyrus' POV

The game is exactly like how Buffy's games were in middle school, the only difference being my peculiar inability to take my eyes off one really attractive player. Nothing special has happened. It's the same as any other game, but I do notice TJ glance up at me every once in a while, and I always look away to focus on my friends instead when he does. I've spent far too long wondering what that boy thinks, and, honestly, I'm just tired. 

"Are you sure you're okay to be here?" Andi checks. 

"Yeah," I reply. "I'm fine. I'm just . . ."

Right as I look back to the basketball game, I catch TJ's eyes, and he gives me a small smile paired with a wink before rushing off to the side of the court with the rest of his team. The simple action renders me silent, stuck on the question of what it means. 

Suddenly, I realize that neither basketball team is on the court, and TJ has somehow gotten lost in the crowd of his teammates. I can no longer pick him out, which is unusual, because I find I'm often able to spot him even when I wish I wouldn't. The audience in the bleachers becomes restless, moving around while they talk. 

"What's going on?" I wonder. 

"It's half-time," Buffy answers. 

"Oh, right," I respond. 

Marty sits on the other side of Buffy, with Jonah at the far end beside Walker. I've only ever seen Jonah together with Walker before they were a couple, but I couldn't possibly miss the chemistry anymore. They've been chatting and giggling together throughout the whole first half of the game. 

Their attention is stolen away from each other when our Principal, Dr. Metcalf, who somehow managed to follow us from middle school to high school, steps up into the centre of the gym with a microphone. He clears his throat to get the crowd to hush before speaking. 

"Hello, everyone. I just want to mention that our drama club is working on a play, but it needs funding for props and costumes. During this short break, I encourage you all to go check out the drama club bake sale happening in the foyer."

As he speaks, I notice Reed casually walking up behind Metcalf, and my friends and I share confused glances. 

"I'll now let you guys go do that," Metcalf continues. "Thanks for your attention."

All of a sudden, the microphone is swiped by Reed, and Metcalf looks stunned as Reed tries to explain himself to the crowd. 

"Just hold up one more minute," Reed says.

Metcalf stares at him angrily, but Reed ignores him, keeping his eyes on the crowd. 

"How's everyone doing tonight?" he asks. 

The crowd is silent.

"Cool, cool. So, um, you know, it's really great to be part of a team like our Grant boys' basketball team," Reed says. "I'm not on the team, but I think it'd be pretty cool to know that no matter what, you've always got these guys who will support you and push you to do your best. Win or lose, they've got each other's backs. And it doesn't matter how smart you are, how cool you are, who you love. All that matters is your love for the game."

"What's going on?" Marty whispers to me.

"I have no idea," I reply. 

"I know I've interrupted a lot of your time," Reed goes on, "and, drama club, sorry for keeping your customers away from your bake sale, but one of my friends, one who's actually on the basketball team, has something really important to say."