You're My Everything

Chapter 23: Score

"Okay, really, I'm done. I have to rest before the game. Sorry, man." Frank says as he sits a meter or so from my feet.

"That's probably a good idea." Nathan admits, sprawling out on the court where he'd been standing. He holds his wrist out in front of him. "Twenty minutes 'til it starts."

I gaze at the ceiling, going over the drills and activities; the different jump shots; dribbling and everything else Coach burned into our brains.

"Get up!" A voice shouts in my ear. I flinch awake. The shock of the loud voice immediately makes me jump. Of course, having fallen asleep, I forgot that I was laying down on the bleachers.

I roll off of the wood and slam into the rubberized floor. Fortunately, at the last second, I happen to turn my head to the left. Which, ten minutes later, I'll be glad I did, for if I didn't the blow would've broken my nose. However, at the time, I wasn't thinking this. The only thing on my mind was

"Oh my God! You couldn't have woken me up like any normal person?"

"Nope," Coach says unfazed. He's wearing his usual attire: black athletic sweatpants with the white stripes down the side, his black and red Crimson coach shirt and his Crimson cap.

I rub my head. "That hurt."

"Now you'll be alert for the game," he says as he sets down his duffel back on the bleachers.

I let my temper fizzle off and force myself to stay calm. I must remember that he has the power to kick me off the team. Something I'd never forgive myself for. Basketball is my life.

***

The whistle rings across the court, high pitched and shrieking. The referee tosses the ball into the air. Nathan leaps into the air in time with a boy with straw colored hair, half a head short than Nathan.

Nathan, having height advantage, reaches the basketball first. He smacks it forward to a guy named Matt on our team. Gasps emit from the crowd.

***

"Are you kidding? No. He could take you any day." I laugh as I take a bite of my burger.

"Nuh uh." Nathan flexes his arm, making his bicep prominent. "With these guns I'd take him."

"That dude who went for the toss with you in the beginning? He seemed pretty buff. Besides you have noodle arms. He'd beat you in an arm wrestling match anytime, anywhere." Frank motions around with his bacon hamburger.

"Whatever," Nathan huffs. He stares down at his hotdog momentarily sulking.

I take this time to glance around the grill we're at. It's lit well and there are few customers. Everyone who hadn't already eaten decided to go to the Dining Hall.

Of the few straggler people around, some were in booths, at tables and sitting in chairs at the counter. The three of us are siting at a raised table towards the left side of the grill.

"So we're advancing. Each game is bringing us closer to the championship." Frank says.

"Dude, it's only the first game of the season. You're getting a little dramatic there." I say after I sip my Coke.

"What do you mean? I'm getting us pumped." Frank puts up his fists and starts to bounce around in his seat as if we're about to box.

A few minutes later I ask, "Are you guys done? I'm ready to call it a night." I shove the rest of my burger into my mouth.

"James, it's only nine." Nathan comments.

"Leave me alone, I'm always whooped after games." I point my toes to reach the floor. As I'm walking out, I hear sighs and grunts before Nathan and Frank catch up to me.