Sweat is dripping from my body, my hands are slippery, and no one seems to be able to follow the plays today. It's a miracle we're up by ten, but we won't be for much longer if we can't get it together as a team.
Em is in the bleachers cheering me on, and Drew is sitting in front of her with his teammates, surrounded by his little thot parade. The opposing point guard lunges, trying to take the ball from me, thinking I'm too distracted to notice. I juke her, faking right and dribbling left faster than she can recover executing a left-handed layup.
The crowd goes wild, chanting my name, but I don't have time to celebrate. There are still three minutes left in the last quarter, which is more than enough time for them to come back.
We end up winning by six to a team that's not nearly as good as we are. They have the worst record to date of any high school basketball team in our region, and coach Treggle is pissed. She yells at us when we make it into the locker room because if we play like that against Grant, we'll get crushed.
When the coach finishes reaming us, I shower and get dressed. Drew is warming up when I make it to the bleachers to join Em and Chloe, and I sit down next to them.
"Here. Drew said to watch his stuff," Chloe hands me his backpack.
Their game starts after ten minutes, and Drew looks amazing. Unlike my teammates and I, the boys' team didn't come to mess around. They're already up by twenty at the start of the second quarter, and that momentum never stops. By the time the game is over, they're up by close to thirty points. They crushed the opposing team.
Sports reporters swarm the basketball court, wanting to get an interview with Drew and some other players on the team. Drew waits until his boys get their fifteen minutes and have finished being interviewed before he allows himself to have the spotlight. It helps that his retired NBA player dad is here to cheer him on, but it also causes people to speculate rumors that Drew is being pressured by his dad to sign with the Kings when he goes pro. I know for a fact that Drew wants to play for the Lakers. He's always been a fan of Kobe and Shaq.
"You have a bright career ahead of you in the NBA if you keep turning out these kinds of numbers," a female reporter shoves a microphone in Drew's face. "So, tell me, is there a special someone in your life you'll be sharing all of your success with?"
"Why? Are you offering?" Drew turns up the charm.
"No," she blushes. Even old women fall prey to this fool's charm. "But I'm sure our female viewers would want to know the answer to that question."
Without missing a beat, he replies, "Well in that case, no, I don't have anyone special in my life right now. I'm keeping my options open."
What the hell?
Drew just punched a fist-sized hole in my heart. I don't want to cause a scene in front of these sports reporters, but I can't stop my smile from fading.
Still holding Drew's backpack, I wait while he and his parents finish up all of his interviews where he repeatedly denies my existence even though I'm literally standing RIGHT HERE. By the fourth or fifth time of hearing Drew say he doesn't have anyone special that he's seeing, I no longer react.
Eventually, the reporters trickle out. The janitor shuts down the gym, and most people have already left the building. Drew and his parents walk over to me so he can grab his things and before I can stop myself, I lose it.
"No one special, huh? You're keeping your options open?" I throw his backpack at him. Drew stares at me like I've sprouted another head or something. "Well, I'll tell you what... the next time you need someone to watch your stuff, ask your options to do it."
YOU ARE READING
Books, Boys, and Basketball: Junior Year
Teen Fiction"A sea of alcohol couldn't intoxicate me as much as a drop of you. Our love was labeled poison, and yet I drank it anyways." Sidney Stansfield battles haters, family secrets, her case against the Candor Albright School for girls, and her best friend...
