Fall Of 2013
You could hear the fans waiting for us to get on the court. We are not a huge school but we are still a pretty big school. You can hear the students shouting stupid insults at the other team and stomping the feet and trying to make the wave happen.
Little children are running under and on top of the dirty, old bleachers that have had to be here at least since the fifties, with gum under it and draw on hearts saying Heather loves Zach. I wonder if they are still together? I guess I will never know.
Some parents are in the students section for I have no idea what reason. Usually the parent section gets really cramp, so I can't blame them. The parents on the parent side are full with energy and nerves of excitement waiting to watch their daughter or relative, or maybe even someone they like to watch, play basketball.
Coach is still talking and telling us not to be nervous for our first home game and to just play our game. That's easy. It's just when the crowd insist of being as loud as possible when your shooting free throws.
The door starts to open and my teammates start to pour out of the dusty small locker room hallway. This one women who has to big of a nose and way to much red eyeliner hands us our basketballs. Aparently her name is Mandy.
"Go kick some butt Rebecca! And if anyone of those little-"
"I got it, if someone is rude tell you so you can kick their butt." Luckily I stopped her or I would have never been able to warm-up and would have her constantly saying how bad the other players are and how they are all, um, you know what I mean.
I switch out the basketball she gave me and I grab my favorite one. No one hands it out because it's so old and worn out but that's just the reason I like it.
They start running the clock, which signals Katherine McNerrie starts our lay-ups. She goes in and hits it right of that white top corner of the shooting square. It goes in like that. It doesn't go around the rim or anything. Just bounces in.
I have trouble standing still so I start dribbling the musty old basketball in my hand. It releases and comes back up to my hand just like that. I start switching hands and going in between the legs. I tell myself I don't want to showoff and messup, so I stop and go in for a lay-up.
Unlike Katherine, mine goes around the rim and in. The crowd starts to cheer. It's not that it's shocking that I made a layup but when a freshmen makes the varsity team it's a pretty big deal. I am also the only freshmen.
Anyway. Mellie Goldman gets the basketball and makes a questionably look at me saying, why this one? I just shrug and walk to the rebounding line.
The clock was ticking. We had about a long minute left till the game started. Our coach pulled us over for our pep talk.
"These guys might be bigger and stronger then you, but you are faster and smarter. Remember no shots unless they are good shots. Don't chuck up a half court shot or three point shot if we are up by only a few points with thirty seconds left on the clock." He would have kept talking for along time. Possibly hours. Luckily the buzzer went off and we headed on the court.
YOU ARE READING
The Fallen Stairs.
Teen FictionRebecca Stairs is a pretty good name for this teenage girl. She's always falling down, especially stairs. She can't help it though. She has a really rare disease called Motor Neurone. It causes weakness in different types of muscles. For Rebecca she...