Swish

Timeout - Eli

"Well, you can put me down for two very large balls.  I can pull them out if you need to have visual confirmation of their existence?"

Her mouth twitched up in the corners on a beautiful smirk and I couldn't imagine a more stunning sight if I tried. 

"I'm good, but thank you for the offer," she countered and suddenly I felt...awkward?  It wasn't like I'd never talked to girls before, but the majority of the time it was them talking and trying to take me home, not the other way around.  In all honesty, I hadn't had to make the first move on a girl in a very long time.  

My friends told me it was the height, that it attracted the girls who knew what they wanted and went for it, so that seriously affected my 'game'.

"You done for the night with everything you need to do?"

"Yeah pretty much, I usually just goof off until it's time to clock out because no one is here this late and everything is finished."

"Well in that case...do you want to see if you can out shoot me?"

There was a twinkle in her eyes that accompanied the glorious smile that question brought to her face. 

"You want to shoot more hoops after spending the last four and a half hours doing that already?"

"What can I say, I just want to see what Mike Bruin's daughter is worth on the court," I said cockily, like there was no way she could out shoot me on threes. 

"Okay, give me the ball."

I was wrong.  I was so totally wrong. 

The girl's aim, form, technique, all of it was spot on absolutely perfect. 

She sent the ball sailing over and over again into the net, the swish of the ropes caressing the ball as it dropped in each time, and I was immediately floored at the different talents this girl possessed that I'd yet to discover. 

"Wow.  Can you read minds too?  What about magic, can you grant me three wishes?"

Her laughter reached my ears as she dribbled the ball a few times before lining up her shot. 

"What?"

"You know, since you have all this talent.  I was just wondering what else it is that you can do."

That time, her grip on the ball faltered, her pinkie finger dropping down lower on the ball as she haphazardly flung the ball towards the net, no form, no preparation, and it was the first time she'd missed all night. 

"Might want to hold your breath next time," she joked.  

"How about a game?  Truth or dare?  Except every time I make it in the basket you have to do the one I pick for you, same goes for you.  You make it in, you make me choose which one I pick."

She didn't hesitate before answering.

"You're on.  Be prepared to go streaking through campus."

My laughter was immediate, and her answering smile was adding fuel to the ever growing fire that pulsed in my gut, reminding me that nothing about what I felt for her was a game. 

"Alright, I'll go first.  Truth or dare, Virginia?"

"Truth," she said, but my ball fell through the net beautifully, so it was all in my hands. 

"I'll give it to you.  Truth.  Okay, we'll start off easy.  Favorite color?"

"Blue.  My turn."

She fetched the ball from where it had been rolling down the side of the court and dribbled easily, like she'd been handling the ball since she could walk, which she probably had been knowing her dad.