Just Shoot

[5b] Kaiya

[5b] Kaiya

The dismissal bell had rang exactly ten minutes ago and I had yet to locate Z. 

I'd gone directly to the school's main entrance as soon as my teacher had relieved the class for the day, hoping to beat him there so I'd know when he came out; but he had been nowhere to be found. The only reason I was keeping my cool was because I knew he hadn't left me; his car was still in the same spot that he had parked it in this morning.

If he didn't show up soon enough though, I'd most likely get stuck walking.

Sighing, I headed for a bench in the shade. There was no use standing around when I had no idea how long he was planning to take. I was just getting comfortable in my seat, about to take out my journal, when I heard voices.

Glancing over my shoulder, I watched as two girls headed past me and towards the parking lot.

"I can't believe Coach P is forcing them to have another practice," one of the girls said to the other. "No wonder them dudes so fit; they work out so damn much!"

Coach Parker was the school's basketball coach; he'd been in and out of the NBA and it's D-League for a long while before deciding to leave playing behind and start coaching. So, if what that girl had been saying was true, then Z was probably in the gym.

Tightening my grasp on my school bag, I turned and headed back into the building.

Kennedy, after school, had a completely different vibe than it did during school day. Gone was its intimidating ambiance and in its place was a somewhat relaxing atmosphere. It didn't look as big and scary as it had just a few hours ago, if that was even possible.

I managed to make it to the gym within a few seconds, considering it was the one place I didn't need my map to find.

Inside, I came to a stop just a few feet shy of the double doors. The boys' basketball team seemed to be just getting started on suicides from what I could tell. A mixture of whistles being blown, players trash talking each other (a motivational tactic, from what I knew about basketball), and shouts of encouragement filled the large gymnasium.

Looking around, I took note of the other girls who seemed to be loitering by the bleachers, eyes locked on the boys. It was ridiculous how many groupies came with being an athlete. How were you ever supposed to separate the real from fake? Gold-diggers, from my knowledge on them, came in all shapes and sizes. A fat ass and a pretty smile only went so far in the real word.

Heading for the bleachers, I carefully maneuvered my way through the mass of girls who were all gathered just a few inches shy of the out of bounds area, staring at the players who were running up and down the court executing out-and-back sprints.

I had been so focused on finding Z – who turned out to be number fifteen – that I nearly toppled over one of the girls who had been sitting on the lowest bleacher with her legs laying directly in the center of my pathway.

I caught myself before I fell which, thankfully, saved me a lot of embarrassment.

"Watch where you're going, Kiera."

I'd been prepared to keep walking but stopped immediately when I learned that the girl was talking to me. When actually looking down at her, I recognized her within seconds. Dijonay Cartwright; Ashani's best friend who seemed to share the same sort of attitude as she did.

"It's Kaiya," I corrected her softly, "and your legs were in the way."

"Whoeva." She sneered at me. "Maybe if you were actually looking where you were walking, you wouldn't have tripped."