That October Night

Chapter 22

THE BALLERS, CHEERLEADERS, AND  the dancers.

The gym room reeked with Febreze, sweat, and dirty socks, and it was crammed with these groups of people practicing for that Friday night against their biggest nemesis yet. The Falcons.

There, I met the blasian couple who were finger-tutting. Although they needed me, they still wanted me to audition as if I was begging to be a part of their group and help choreograph.

After my 'audition' they showed me their original routine. The dance group was small, but they were perfectly adequate. I had to finish the choreography in less than two weeks.

For some reason, I couldn't help but feel that something was missing, so I had them go through the dance routine three more times. Each time I kept my focus on an individual, and finally saw that the problem was neither Bre nor Zoe.

Chase kept messing up on a certain part where it included a lot of footwork. He was good at hiding it, but if you paid close attention you could notice just how uncomfortable it was for him.

Hakeem, who was watching their routine with me, pulled me aside while staring at them from the side and rubbed on his chin. "Is it me or is that Asian kid like three seconds behind on this part?"

"I thought that I was the only one who noticed that. Good eye, Keem. Okay guys, take five. Chase let's talk."

Hakeem went over to Bre and Zoe to catch up on the routine while Chase and I sat face to face on the bleachers. Chase tied his thick locks in a messy man bun, staring at me worriedly. The only facial hair he had was his extremely thin mustache.

"What's wrong with your foot?" We were on a limited time, so I decided to get straight to the point instead of beating around the bush.

Chase let out a defeated sigh. "I kinda injured my ankle last week when I was playing soccer with my sister, so certain moves aren't as easy as they use to be."

"Dude, that's dangerous. You do realize that you can permanently damage it right?"

"Yes but I have to at least perform this one dance. Somehow I managed to coax my parents into coming. Their ideal image for my siblings and me is to either be a doctor, lawyer, or something 'Asian'."

It was funny how my parents were one of each of these professions yet, they never put their interest in forcing Chris and me into becoming something that we weren't interested in. If anything I could remember whenever we showed interest in something they tried to keep us involved as much as possible.

If they knew I loved dancing so much they would've put me into a dance school at a young age. Even now, they would've made it their duty to encourage me.

My eyes lingered on his hair and he smiled. "Yes, they aren't too fond of this look either."

I smiled back and accusingly pointed my finger at him as if he was in trouble. "Okay fine. I'll change the choreography, but you need a week away from dancing until you get medical consent that it's ok. You still will be at practice but watching only and after a week I'll personally help you catch up."

"Fair enough." Chase assembled himself with the others where he was supposed to be. Everyone stared at me attentively, silently waiting for me to speak.

Something about their eager eyes on me, made me feel like I belonged here.

"Meet you guys tomorrow at the same time. Practice is now over."

Even after they left, surprisingly without questioning me I sat around watching the boys play basketball. Malik really had something against Raymond. It even showed through practice. Because of that, Coach had to place Malik on the bleachers.

"This is a team sport, Scott and until you learn that you will be on the bleachers," Coach warned at the end of practice.

Malik stormed out the second he was allowed to and the others followed except the three musketeers.

Chris called me out to join them, but Raymond had to open his big mouth. "She can't play ball," he said.

"Have I not played with you guys before?"

"Yeah, but you're not that good. And because of your height, it leaves you at a disadvantage." Raymond was challenging me and Carlos was agreeing with him.

Chris and I exchange each other knowingly look. He threw the ball at me and I purposely let it slip, causing the boys to erupt in laughter. I smugly grinned, pleased that they were giving me the exact reaction I wanted.

Chris tossed the ball to be again. "Okay, now Tweets. Show them how we Mitchells play"

"Don't go easy on me," I warned them, with the ball underneath my hand.

Raymond grinned as he cracked his neck and crouched a little bit. "Oh, I won't."

I threw the ball back to Chris and he threw it to Raymond. "Checkmate."

They continued this until the ball was back to Chris and started heading towards the rim. For the first two minutes and a half, Carlos and Raymond were honestly giving us a hard time, scoring 5-0 until Chris finally got the ball in his hands.

That was when we slowly began to catch up until we went from 5-0 to 5-6 real quick. I passed the ball to Chris and he dunked over Carlos's head.

5-7

From the corner of my eye, I saw Raymond slapping the sweat off his face with irritation. He used this energy and height to steal the ball from me when Chris shot the ball to me.

Smoldering with victory, he held the ball up away from me, knowing that I couldn't reach it. In the middle of his gloating, Chris knocked the ball out of his hand.

"Look where showin' off gotcha."

Carlos slammed his chest. "Come on man."

When the ball got to my hands, Carlos guarded me against the two. Just before I made the last shot, I tried to use all of the fundamental skills in basketball starting with the basics.

Dribbling.

I dribbled the ball between my legs and around me waiting for a good time to pass the ball back to Chris.

Defending.

Again the ball was stolen from my hand, but this time from Carlos. He was about to escape and shoot, but I developed a proper defending position in front of him. For a while there it felt as if we were dancing. Because he was much taller than me I stood in front of him, then slid back almost confusing him. Then I did a three-over four defend, putting my hand in front of him and knocked the ball out of his hand.

Pivoting.

Raymond was after me, but I easily pivoted and dribbled the ball away from him.

Passing.

Chris and I had this thing whenever we were playing basketball together and wanted to signal that we were open, we would tap our feet twice. I did a forward flip with the ball and as soon as the ball left the ground I let it go, giving it to Chris.

"What the fuck?" I heard Carlos say.

Shooting.

Chris passed me the ball again and I dribbled to the three-point line and shoot. The ball circled the rim twice before it went into the basket. I moonwalked to my bag, enjoying their look of defeat.

5-10

"Never underestimate a Mitchell," Carlos mentioned with pride.

That's when it hit me on what I was going to put into the choreography. Slinging my bag on my back, I pumped my hand up in victory.

"Basketball!"