January 8, 2020.
I watched as the Hialeah defender jumped up with me and his hand landed on my wrist. I collapsed on the floor and the ball made it into the basket and our bench jumped up in excitement. I smiled and paused the YouTube video of the game. The video had almost a thousand views, with most of them being from people at my school. The clip of my game-changing falling jumper and my missed free throw shot was all over the school, as well as Wesley's game-winning put-back.
Wesley and I had been the most popular kids at school that day. Of course varsity won their game too, but they blew Hialeah out of the water, which wasn't as interesting to watch. A good old-fashioned comeback, however, was on everyone's lips. It benefited the whole team, actually, since now more people knew that the JV team actually existed.
After Chance's episode that game, he was demoted from being a starter and was put on the backup team in my place. And you guessed it, that meant that I got Chance's old spot. After seeing me and Jackson work well together and me not embarrass myself, Coach Hendrix had decided to promote me to the starting shooting guard position. I was excited about the promotion, even though it only made Cam, Max, and especially Nathan resent me even more.
"This is crazy!" said Austin, who was on a Facetime chat with me. "You have an actual fan page on Instagram!"
"A what?" I laughed.
"A fan page!" Austin repeated without losing the enthusiasm. "An Instagram account dedicated to showing your top plays."
"Well there's not much to show," I said.
"Not yet maybe," Austin pointed out. "But eventually. And they're even posting some of your middle school plays."
"How do I know that it's not you that owns this 'fan page'?" I asked him.
"Of course it's not!" he insisted.
"Okay," I said, laughing, "if you say so."
I had decided to skip the extra training after practice after a suggestion from Coach Myers. He thought I should take an afternoon to relax and enjoy the results of my hard work. I had reluctantly agreed, but now that I was home I really didn't know what to do. I had finished my homework before 10:30 for once and I didn't know what else to do. I decided to finish the call with Austin and watch some Netflix before going to bed earlier than usual for the game tomorrow, which I would start in. I said goodbye and went downstairs to grab a snack before watching. When I returned to my room, however, I noticed something odd. My door was all the way open, and I could have sworn I had pulled it to.
I walked in and saw that my dad was sitting in the chair at my desk, watching the YouTube video of me.
"Dad?" I said cautiously.
He didn't bother finishing the video and instead turned to face me. "This is you. Playing basketball. In a town that's an hour away from here."
"Yep," I said bluntly, trying to read his face haplessly.
"I don't remember telling you that you could continue playing," he said.
"Well you never told me I couldn't play," I retorted, "and I don't see anything wrong with playing a sport. I played in middle school."
"Middle school is over," he growled. "It's time for you to start thinking about your future."
"Basketball is my future," I insisted.
"No," he replied, shaking his head. "Basketball is a hobby, not a career. Focus on doing something useful with your life. I'm not paying for your education for nothing."
"Public high schools are free," I muttered, but I wished I hadn't because it only made him angrier.
"I don't want you going to any more of these basketball games. Or the practices. There are much better things to do with your life."
"I'm not quitting the team."
"Yes, you are!" my dad said. "Starting tomorrow, you are off the team."
"Dad—"
"No!" he interrupted. "This isn't up for debate! Conversation over." And with that he walked out of my room.
I sat down on my bed, defeated, when I felt my phone vibrating. It was a number not in my contacts, but I answered the call anyway.
"Hello?" I said.
"Hi Blake," said a familiar female voice. "This is Harper."
"Oh Harper, hi," I said, a little surprised. "How did you get my number?"
"I asked around," she said simply.
"Ookay," I said, finding the whole situation a little odd. "So why are you calling me?"
"Oh well I just wanted to see if you'd finished the Biology homework."
"Yeah, I did. But it's not due until Thursday."
"Right, I just wanted to check and see if you still had any questions on it."
"Nope," I said.
"Oh, well okay. Sorry to bother you," she said.
I laid down on my pillow and sighed. "Bye."
I was about to hit the red button to end the call when Harper spoke again.
"Blake?"
"Hmm?" I replied.
"Are you okay? You seem a little tired."
"I've been better," I told her honestly. "I guess I am tired. It is almost 11 o'clock at night."
"Sorry," she said, and I realized that I had said that a little harshly. "Didn't mean to call so late. I'll just let you sleep then."
I wasn't trying to push anyone away, so I apologized. "Wait I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be short or anything. It's just been a rough day, I guess."
"A rough day? You literally became a celebrity at school today! No one can wait to see you play again tomorrow!"
"Well, I hate to disappoint but I might not make it tomorrow," I told her, knowing that we were getting to the bottom of my bad mood.
"What? Why not?" Harper asked, her voice softening.
"It's just... my dad doesn't want me playing basketball anymore. So I'm going to have to quit the team."
"Really?" she asked, her tone going back to normal. "You're going to let your dad stop you from being a basketball star?"
"I mean, what else can I do?" I breathed out. There really weren't that many options for me.
"You can play in the game tomorrow," she said matter-of-factly, "and you can go to all the practices and continue to train and show your dad what basketball means to you. I don't want to pretend to know you as well as some of your friends that I've seen do, but the sport obviously means something to you, and I don't want to see you throw that away for your old man."
I thought about this. "Thanks," I told her. "I might just take your advice."
"You should," she said. "I always know best."
"Well, I guess we'll see about that."
"I guess we will. Talk to you at school tomorrow?"
"You and I both know that you will no matter what I say."
"Okay then," she said. "Talk to you tomorrow."
And with that, she hung up. I inhaled and exhaled slowly, thinking about what I was going to do when tomorrow came. My dad would obviously be looking for me to come straight home after school, so he'd know if I went to the game. So what was I supposed to do? Either way, I'd disappoint someone. How did I keep getting myself in these situations?
I thought about this for a minute, and then decided that I couldn't think properly while lying on my bed. I had to get away for a while. I needed some fresh air. I slid off the bed and grabbed my basketball, shoving it into my bag. I shouldered my bag and then quietly ventured downstairs and out the front door without anyone noticing where I was or where I was going. After I was out of the house, I jogged a couple blocks over to where the street court was.
"Blake!" a voice yelled.
I stopped dead in my tracks. The voice had come from somewhere on the court, but I couldn't make anything out as it was pitch black. Who was it, and why did they know my name. It was a scene straight out of a horror movie, and I unintentionally acted like a subject of such a movie—I just stood there stupidly. My inclination from my brain and the rest of my body (albeit my legs) was to run, but the only thing that seemed to want to move in my body was my heart, which was currently running a marathon. I was about to just slowly exit the court when a shadow came out of the darkness.
"Blake, it's just me," said the shadow, drawing closer.
My legs had finally found the courage to run when I realized who was talking. It was a guy on the varsity basketball team. He was tall and lean, with his brown hair braided back. Of course, I couldn't see any of these things presently, but I remembered what he looked like from practice. I just couldn't put my finger on it what his name was, which made it hard to come up with something to say.
"Enzo?" he said after a moment of silence, realizing that I had forgotten his name and having the kindness to remind me.
"Right, sorry," I said. "You gave me a scare. What are you doing here?"
"I live in the neighborhood," Enzo said simply. "I stop by here and practice sometimes."
"At nearly midnight?" I asked, motioning around to our environs.
He shrugged, a gesture I could barely make out in the darkness. He might have nodded or something too, but I couldn't make out his countenance either. "Usually. My schedule's a little booked at the moment. We have practice then I have work and then I come home and eat and do homework. By the time that's done, it usually is around midnight when I get out here. Besides, this place helps me think."
"Yeah, that's what I came here to do," I admitted.
Enzo nodded. "It's as good a place as any for it. Playing ball always helps me think, and I guess you're the same way."
"I guess so," I replied.
"Well, let's get to it. We can help each other practice since we're both here."
"You want to help me?" I asked. It was sort of strange. Varsity players rarely interacted with JV players, if they paid them any attention at all.
"It'll be mutual," Enzo said. "It's much easier to practice when you've got someone else on the court with you."
We practiced. We did some two person drills and rebounded for each other a little. We seldom talked, since we both had come to the court in the first place with the goal of getting our thoughts together. So that's what we did. I thought about my time over the summer, when I had stopped playing basketball. In contrast, I reflected upon the past month or so. I came to the conclusion that I have had more fun in the past month than I did the other months of my freshman year in high school. Was I really going to risk all that for one person? It sounded depressing, but basketball really was all I had. Besides, I was committed to the team. I was a starter now, which meant that whether I was on or off the team affected everyone else way more than it would have a week ago.
I had made up my mind. I was going to keep playing on the team. Being promoted to a starter was a pretty big deal for me, and I just couldn't risk throwing something away that had so much potential like that. I had already started to make a name for myself and I was going to see it through to the end, whenever that may come.