Saving Neba

𝐗𝐈𝐗: Mr Showoff

King and his team had just finished their practice. I had sat at a bench with Ashley who was also waiting for Bryan.

"Hey, Ashley," I tried to start up a conversation.

"Hey." She sounded distant even though she was only a few inches away. "What's good?" She ran her hand over her well-combed afro hair. She had similar skin as Bryan and wore a red tank top tucked in denim shorts and a black leather jacket over it.

"Hey, Ash!" Bryan threw the basketball to the ground and walked to his girlfriend. He kissed her on the lip lightly. "Let's go."

"Took you long enough." She stepped away from me and walked out of the large hall that also functioned as the basketball court.

Some practised more but they soon all dispersed leaving only Cole, King and me in the room. I walked down the bench and headed to King. He picked up the ball and took his wet hair back to keep the sweat away.

King was undeniably handsome. "You ready to learn?" He tossed the ball to me and I caught it immediately. "Wow, you've got skills. You'd make an excellent player."

"I only caught a ball," I said and bounced it up and down.

"Throw the ball into the basket," Cole dared. His untamed blonde hair covered his forehead, reminding me of Bihak and that scar on his forehead.

"I haven't done it before." But I did stand opposite the basket, inches away from it. I bounced the ball some more, my ponytail moving from side to side.

King encouraged, "Some people have natural abilities..."

I focused on the basket and tossed the ball. It bounced up and towards the basket. A smile crept up my face as I watched it go. It did get closer. Only, it hit the wall beside the backboard and bounced back to my hand.

"And you're not among those people," Cole snickered. "Let's just hope you don't suck at everything."

"Motherfucker!" King cursed under his breath. I threw the ball to King. "You'll get it. That's why you're here."

"I got this." Cole bounced to King and took the ball then faced his stupid aquamarine eyes at me. "Let me show the chick how it's done."

He played with the ball in his hand and bounced it for some seconds. He moved to the basket with the ball and because he had great height, he easily rolled it off his fingertips right into the basket. "This, sweetheart, is called a lay-up."

He picked up the ball, went a few inches back and let the ball go. It hit the backboard and fell right through the hoop and into the basket. "That's a bank shot. Sharp, isn't it?"

"Cole that's enough."

"Oh shut up, King. Baby's enjoying the show." Cole took off his green jacket and tossed it to the nearest bench. He ran to the basket and jumped midair, simultaneously slamming the ball into the basket. "Now tell me, wasn't that fucking legit?"

This time, I caught the ball. "You're good, Mr Showoff. But those shots were only possible because I wasn't in the game, I tell you."

He folded his arms. "Where you driving out, girl?" He asked in what I thought New York gangster accent.

I walked to the basket and turned my back to it, so I could face Cole and King. "I'm saying, no matter how you throw the ball now, it's not going to get through the basket if I don't want to."

"What makes you believe that, Emery?" King asked with raised eyebrows and a smile, confusion and excitement written all over his face.

"I don't know, maybe I'm an excellent catcher. Want a challenge?"