Like You Like Me ✔

11

By the time the girls' Volleyball game had gotten into full swing, I had accepted that I'd have to play without my lucky sleeve. But somehow, I didn't feel any better about my situation. Mom called me and said she couldn't find it anywhere. The only other place I hadn't checked was the locker room, but I was 99.9% sure it wasn't there.

I turned my phone off and decided to focus on cheering the girls on. That was the perfect opportunity to admire Celia without looking suspicious. I loved watching her little on-court routines-most athletes have them. After almost every point, Celia would touch the light-green jade cross necklace she got from her abuela. I thought it was kinda cute.

What wasn't cute was the way she was hitting her shots; my girl looked straight-up savage. Celia was spiking that ball like it was the head of her ex-boyfriend who broke up with her because the school year was over. Which is why I was surprised when she looked my way and flashed me a smile.

Seeing her look at me like that again felt like sipping a steaming cup of hot chocolate on a snowy day. It gave me the confidence boost I needed before my game. I felt thankful, and hashtag blessed. Just before Celia stepped behind the line to serve on match point, she smiled at me again. I legit almost melted. My girl went on to hit an ace to seal the win.

While the girls were doing their handshakes, me and the rest of the hoops crew went to the locker room. Connor and I looked around for my sleeve, but it was nowhere to be found. Under normal circumstances, I would have been sweating bullets, especially since every other team had won their games. But Celia smiled at me, and that was all the luck I needed.

A few minutes later, the boys and I took to the court to the thundering screams of the St. Mark's crowd. We started shooting around, going through the regular pre-game routine.

Every shot I took was nothing but net. I felt like a general on the eve of a great battle. Smoke from our blazing fires floated into the darkening sky while our banners waved in the wind. My nerves from earlier had transformed into pure energy; victory felt so close I could taste it.

Then I looked up at the stands, and everything inside me crumbled like the walls of Jericho.

Celia was sitting next to some guy I had never seen before in my life. Without thinking twice, I jogged over to Connor and gave him an elbow.

"Who dat?" I gestured with my chin towards where Celia was.

Connor's forehead creased. "Yo, I don't know."

Just then, the mystery guy whispered something to Celia; my girl started giggling like she was watching Gabriel Iglesias doing stand-up. My blood started boiling, and all the sheen of her smiles from earlier quickly evaporated. I looked away, exhaled and took a shot that barely made it to the rim. The level of shock on Connor's face said everything I felt: Oh shit.

Soon the boys and I were in our starting positions for tip-off. As usual, I did two calf stretches and got ready for Big Ben (our centre) to tap the ball my way. Only this time, my knees were doing the jackhammer jingle, and my palms looked like they'd just been in a sauna. When the ball came at me, it almost slipped out of my hands.

I rushed forward, maintaining a shaky dribble. On the opposing side of the court, I paused and looked for Connor. All of a sudden, I heard someone yell: "Cookies!" Next thing I knew, the other point slapped the ball out of my hands, rushed past me, bounced a pass to his power forward, who made an easy lay-up for the opening score.

A chorus of boos erupted from the bleachers. I couldn't tell if they were for me or for the boys from Citadel High. Coach's red face indicated that at least some of it rightfully belonged to me. I tried to focus and get a handle on things, but I was not channelling my inner Steve Nash; my dribbling, shots and passes were all trash.

I was surprised Coach didn't bench me sooner than he did. By the time I was riding the pine, we were down by fifteen points. Just before half-time, Musty Mike had managed to help cut the Phoenixes' lead down to single digits. But they were still mopping the floor with us.

The boys threw more than a few side-eyes at me before hitting the locker room. I was the last man in the tunnel, and the mood back there made a funeral look lit. Everyone looked deflated, even Connor was looking rattled; but, he was the only one of the guys who came and sat next to me when Coach walked in.

"What's going on with you, Pryce?" Those were the first words he'd said to me since relegating me to the sidelines.

It's no biggie, Coach. It's just that this girl I really like doesn't like me and she's dating some other guy. And I high-key lost my lucky sleeve, so you know, everything's just peachy.

At least that's what I wanted to say. What came out of my mouth was, "I don't know. Something's off."

Coach exhaled and shook his head. "I'm going to give you half a quarter to figure it out. Clear?"

"Yes, sir," I nodded.

Coach then addressed the rest of the team and started going into strategies for the second half. Just before he was done, Connor hooked me up with his spare sleeve. C was a power forward, so he was a little bigger (muscle-wise) than me, and a few inches taller. As a result, the sleeve was kinda loose on my arm. But it was the thought that counted.

After the boys left, Connor asked me to hang back for a sec. He gave me a pep talk that helped me pull myself together. Then we jogged out to the court and got ready to try and salvage what was left of the game.