A Few More Reasons

Chapter 1

Everywhere I look, from the bleachers to the sidecourt, I witness how huge the crowd is. They're standing with their hands flailing in the air. Their screams are deafening which somehow inspires me. They are watching. There is no time to waste. The moment is here.

Nineteen seconds flashes in the timer as we, Klintspear Academy matches in the finals against Narwhal University at the interschool basketball championship. Our school, Klintspear always thinks Narwhal as its rival in terms of everything — academic, sports and even dance contests, and I guess the same goes with them. The score is really tight with 90-89 in favor of the opponent.

We are playing the home court so most of the crowd came from our academy. They're wiggling their blue balloons in support to our team. The pressure is high. We trained day and night and now we made it in the finals. We shouldn't let our efforts go to waste. I won't let them disappointed.

Luckily, I rebound the ball. I sprint quickly through the halfcourt. A guard blocks my way, his arms are wide open. I stare at him, and he does the same. I slowly glance left with the ball in my left hand. Having him look at the same direction, I bounce the ball to my right hand and hastily swerve to his right. I run until I reaches the lane. I build up the momentum and prepares to jump. My arms has been raised and about to release the ball, but another guard jumps in front of me, which prevents me from shooting.

As I'm figuring out how to outsmart this guy, I freeze for a moment. I glance up, looking for hope but instead, see the clock with twelve seconds remaining. Terror crawls to my spine. I am running out of time.

I look from every side. My teammate, Adrian, on the right elbow makes a direct eye contact. All I got to do is a quick response since time is ticking, so I pass the ball to him and it bounces in between the legs of the guard and successfully reaches him. He nods upon receiving it, and dashes forward and swerves through the guards, then suddenly jumps and prepares to release the ball but a guard intercepts, jumping directly in front of him. His eyes widen and freeze midair.

The crowd shouts the countdown in chorus. Five... Four... Three... All of a sudden, I abandon all of my hope. My body feels a ton-weight and my feet glued to the ground. This is it. Our months of training ends up a waste. It is over.

I look at the opponent's bench—my legs become noodles as their teammates jump for their awaited victory. Their coach is smiling widely, gesturing two thumbs up. My eyes are watery. They are celebrating so early. There should be a chance, even the slightest.

As Adrian is falling amidst the air, he drops the ball and bounces it towards my direction. I close my eyes as tears are starting to burst its way out. It's all my fault. It's over. In my hopeless stance, a spherical thing lands into my hands.

"Lance! Shoot!" I hastily open my wet eyes. It's Fjord, standing from the bench, smiling. Suddenly, my noodle legs relax, my ton-weight body feels like a feather and my glued feet starts moving again. I somehow feel relieved. I can feel my lips stretching for the first time in months. He never fails to cheer up the team. I peek at my hands—the ball's there, and in an instant, my body starts screaming again.

Now, the guards are running in my direction. Terror continues. My mind is being flooded with countless thoughts. Can I shoot it? Can I make it? Can we win it? The crowd is screaming louder. Three... Two... There is no time to think. I got the ball so the tendency is, I need to shoot it. I raise my hands in a shooting position, taking a deep breath. This. is. it. The moment of my exhalation, I release the ball. It is now or never.

And one... the loud ring of the buzzer echoes in the arena. The room becomes ghost-quiet as all of us follow our sight on the flying ball. My mouth opens in awe and anticipation. The ball is flying on a parabola towards the rim. It slams the board, bounces down inside the ring, slides through the net and falls to the ground.