KISS: Casablanca High School

Ch 52: Ace Whyyyyy (Paul)

I was sitting in the locker room, head between my knees and practically hyperventilating. Dammit dammit we were screwed, like actually screwed. There was no way we were going to be able to win, not without Ace. And we really needed the win, in more ways than needing it just in terms of league ranking. 

The little bastard himself popped into the locker room, shamefaced. "Hey, Paulie, you doing alright?" 

"No I'm so stressed about this game. They're actually here for once," I mumbled. With a soft sigh, he came and sat next to me, patting me on the shoulder reassuringly. "You guys are gonna do great, don't worry about it. And your parents are gonna be hella proud of you because you're gonna do great!" he said cheerily, giving me a brilliant smile. I returned a weak one of my own and shrugged, tying my hair back. "I hope so. Now get outta here before you get in trouble!" With a laugh and a parting wave he ducked out of the room. 

Heaving a sigh, I laced up my shoes and walked into the gym, joining the rest of the team for warm-ups. There they were, dear old Mom and Dad, not even looking at me. Gene and Ace were sitting in the bleachers, along with Peter and Eric and Bruce. Ava gave me a wave from the line of cheerleaders, shaking her pompoms at me with a wink. I smiled back, watching as the clock ran down to the start of the game. 

No pressure, we just absolutely need to win this game. 

The buzzer sounded for halftime and I ran a hand through my hair, sweat pouring down my face. "Aw, shit," I growled, looking at the scoreboard. 57-49, not good, really not good. I shot a glare at Ace, who sank lower into his seat, pulling his hood over his eyes. We really could use him out there, but no, he decided to get high, at school, and get caught. Because of course he did. 

Coach was seething by the time we made it to the locker room. "What the hell was that?!" he roared the instant we sat on the cold benches. "That was some of the worst basketball I've ever seen in my twenty years of coaching this damn sport! There was no hustle, no drive, no effort! Embarrassing!" 

I bit back a sigh, rolling my eyes, which was a mistake. "Stanley! Don't you roll your damn eyes at me! With Frehley gone I expect you to pick up the slack, but instead you're just half-assing the whole game! You were supposed to be good at this sport!" 

He continued to rant as the team just sat in silence. I mean what else could we do? We were getting our asses handed to us and there wasn't anything we could do about it. Not without Ace on the court. 

Speaking of, he was standing in the hallway as we started to file back out into the gym, face red. "Look, Paulie, I'm really sorry that I'm not out there but listen, number 25, yeah? They're passing to him a lot but he keeps wincing every time he lands on his feet after a jumpshot so I think one of his ankles is weak. You cross him man, you break him he might be done. I'm not saying take him out, but get rid of the fucker!" he hissed. I flashed a smile, nodding. "Sounds good. Any other tips?" 

He shrugged, smiling. "They focus on the left hand side of the court, so focus on the right? I don't know, just get rid of 25. I gotta go before Coach catches me." 

Get rid of 25, got it. Weak ankles, easy. Thanks, Ace. 

The buzzer went off and we managed to get the ball first. I signaled and caught the pass, locking eyes with number 25. Fake left, break right, watch out for the pick and keep an eye on the defense. 25 lunged to the left, anticipating a break that way before I ducked right, sending him tumbling to the floor. Ignoring him I ran toward the basket, dropping back into an easy 2-pointer. The whistle blew and we all drew to a halt, turning to look at 25, who was still on the floor, clutching his ankle. Well well well, looks like Ace knows what he's talking about. I shot him a glance, smiling as he gave me a huge grin and a thumbs up. "Hell yeah, Paulie, that's what I'm talking about!" 

I felt kinda bad as 25 limped off the court, helped by his coach. I knew how it felt, it sucked being taken out of a game, especially an important one. The game started back up again and we actually started to turn this thing around. 68-71, not bad, we might actually have a chance. 

Fourth quarter, ten seconds left, 96-98, ball in my hands. Heart pounding, I went in for the layup, feeling an elbow connect with my stomach as the ball left my hands. I slammed into the court, smashing the back of my head against the hard wood.

Owwww. 

You know, I'd really like to play a sport without getting a concussion, just for once. 

I got pulled to my feet by Anton, who clapped me on the shoulder, grinning. "Tie game man, and you just fouled! No pressure but you need to make this!" 

Heart in my throat and my head pounding, I bounced the ball a few times, toeing the free throw line. One shot, one chance.

No pressure. 

Taking a deep breath, I took the shot, watching the ball leave my hand and arc through the air, swishing through the net. The gym basically exploded, the people screaming as we took the lead by one. Just six more seconds and we'd win. The whistle blew and Devereaux took off down the court. Just couldn't let them score, that was it. Somehow, somehow Anton managed to intercept their pass and the buzzer went off. 

Holy shit we just won. 

They came rushing onto the court, Gene enveloping me in a bone-crushing hug. "Paul! Paul you did it!" he cried. I let out a laugh, barely believing it myself, and clutched my forehead. "I know! Also I think I got another concussion but whatever!" Ace was next, grabbing my shoulders and shaking me excitedly. "What a shot, Paulie, what a shot! I knew you guys didn't need me out there!" "Shut up man, once your two weeks is up you're getting your ass back out there!" 

Eventually I broke away from the swarm, giving Ava a kiss before scanning the bleachers, arm around her shoulders. "Who you looking for?" she asked, leaning her head against me. "My parents. I saw them earlier, before the game started." They seriously didn't leave, did they? Growing desperate, I looked harder, feeling my heart sinking. 

At last I saw Mom, standing there and waving at me, smiling. Dad on the other hand was nowhere to be found. "Hey I'll be right back, alright?" I murmured, giving her another kiss and walking over to Mom, who gave me a hug. "Oh Paul I'm so glad you guys managed to win, that's wonderful news! Your dad had to take a call, you'll be able to tell him all about it! I'm going to head home, I'll see you when you get back!" she babbled, kissing me on the forehead and heading down the stairs. 

Nothing. Nothing about how I was the one who scored the last three points, no concern over me hitting the court, it was like she wasn't even watching. And to be honest, she probably wasn't. I don't know why I was surprised at this point. 

The gym was silent by the time I finally walked out of the locker room after getting cleaned up. Only Gene was still sitting in the bleachers, giving me a warm smile. "Wow, look who it is, the gamewinner himself. How's your head?" I laughed, rubbing my forehead with a wince. "You know, I hit the back of my head so hard the front of it hurts too. My brain definitely ricocheted around a bit." 

He gave me a wry smile, walking with me to the doors. "Well good thing there's not too much brain in there to begin with. Saw your parents actually made it, that was nice of them." 

I sighed, frowning. "Yeah, except I don't think either of them were really watching. But I guess it's the thought that counts. Tell you what, if Ace wasn't such a dumbass that game would've been a lot less stressful." 

"Ah, that's just how he is. You win some, you get suspended for getting high the first day back from break. All that matters is you got the win and looked good while doing so. Your girlfriend was definitely impressed." 

My heart fluttered. "Oh, you thought I looked good?" I teased, nudging him while also waiting eagerly for his answer. 

"Not as good as I would've looked. But I can't always steal your glory, now can I?" 

Aw, whatever, I'll take it.