It was time for basketball practice and Emory made his way to the school gym, his mind still trying to decipher what it was that was causing him to get this ominous feeling. He made his way to the locker room, changed into his sportswear and went to the gym for the team's routine practice.
As the hours rolled by, coach Roland had the team drilling for hours straight as the match with Inglewood was fast approaching.
The team had become evidently fatigued except Emory who was visibly sweating but not tired, Coach Roland's whistle as sharp as ever pierced through their weariness as he pointed to the large clock in the gym, signifying the end of practice for the day.
Emory looked at the coach and his eyes traced to the distractingly short shorts that coach Roland had on, and he genuinely wondered just how short the shorts were. And suddenly a thought or rather a feeling popped into Emory's mind.
