On Point

As I brought the ball down the court I searched for an open teammate. My three was fenced in the corner by a burly and nearly six foot guard, and the five was occupied setting an unsuccessful pick. The seconds were ticking down on the clock. I crossed the half court line to be greeted by an aggressive guard that I outmaneuvered with a crossover and a spin. My eyes scanned the court, desperate for any open teammate close enough to make a basket. I could hear the crowd start counting down from ten. It was do or die time; I had to move the ball.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw my two break away from her guard. In no more than the half a second I made a leading lateral pass and pulled back in case she needed a relief pass. The crowd was down to eight seconds. I felt my heart beating in my ears. My guard left me in a mad dash for Clarissa, whose forward progress was halted. She paused in the triple threat position momentarily and motioned like she was going for the shot. The two players on her scrambled to get in front of her, while I darted to be right behind her.

The crowd was down to six seconds. Instead of going up for the shot she let the ball roll off her finger tips with just enough strength that I caught it in a stride. While the defenders took in the situation, I lined up for the three point shot. With the crowd quickly counting, I took a leap of faith and let the ball rocket out of my fingers. I followed through on the shot and took a quick breath as the crowd's counting stopped and the only sound heard in the gym was the swish of the net as the ball fell through it.

Immediately the crowd erupted into a mix of cheers and stunned gasps. The fans rushed onto the court as our team quickly assembled in a huddle. There was such great cheering and celebration that I almost couldn't hear the buzzer echoing through the gym.

"We're goin' to state!" the team exclaimed as we were surrounded with each other and three quarters of the student body. Being surrounded by the team felt incredible, even more so than the fact that our team was going to state for the first time since 1999. After quite a while of celebration, over the roar of the crowd I could hear our coach hollering that we needed to find a way out of the mob.

The fans split apart as we exited the mass, every one of us covered in smiles that spread from Los Angeles to New York. I felt gobs of hands on my back as everyone complemented the last second shot that brought the team ahead by two. There was a part of me that wished Clarissa had been able to get in the lane and make the layup, the other twenty-five percent was still trying to grasp the success of the last play.

Once we were near our coach he gave me our "bro" handshake; two sideways claps followed by a backhanded clap and ending on exploding knuckles. "That's what I'm talkin' about!" he exclaimed after the handshake. "All y'all, get your hands in here! Cougars on three. One, two, three; cougars!"

Our hands erupted into the air and we went back to hugging each other and giggling over our feat. "You ladies played great tonight," coach said as we redirected our attention to him. "Awesome work, but we still have a lot of work to do before we head to Lansing. Practice at five a.m. sharp tomorrow, and y'all enjoy the victory. One more time, cougars on three! One, two, three, cougars!"

There was a general consensus that both thanked coach and agreed to see him tomorrow morning before most of the girls returned to the crowd of adorning fans. Somewhere along the way Clarissa managed to find the regional trophy and she carried it into the mass.

I saw the other team picking up their bench, and I could see the disappointment on their faces. My nose twitched, and I couldn't just let them leave. I quickly jogged over to their bench to give them all high fives.

Their giant for a post player complemented our game with, "Awesome end shot, and good luck at state."

"Thanks!" I beamed. "You had some really good shots too, keep up the great work!"

I gave everyone else high fives until I made it to their point guard. She gave me an annoyed look. I waited a second before we both cascaded into smiles and hugs. "Guess that makes us even, Cook," she laughed with a nudge on my shoulder.

"I don't like even. We'll have to do a one on one sometime to figure out the real winner," I said with a wink.

"After this you better bring your A-game. I'll be coming for you."

"Ha! Sounds like a plan." I gave her another five and a shoulder pat before departing to tell the coach good game. He was quick to praise the ending of the game, for which I thanked him. I then returned to the blue and white mass that had overcome the court. Along the way I gave the refs knuckles and thanked them for their excellent reffing.

Before I could make my way back into the crowd I felt two arms wrap around my waist. "You're end game actually came through this time," a familiar voice whispered in my ear.

I bit my lip to lessen my smile. "Must've been somethin' in the air because it definitely worked," I beamed as I spun around to lay eyes on my blonde headed boyfriend. His cheeks were lightly peppered with acne, and his eyes were intensely blue. He had three black war stripes running diagonal on his face, as I had decorated him in preparation from the game. He was wearing a blue and white jersey with my number, 07, on it. On the back it read: Baller. He had ordered the jersey custom and wore it to every one of my games without fail.

"Prolly all that practicing you do," he snorted as he gave me a kiss.

I ran my hands up his arms and kissed him back until we were broken up, courtesy of the nuisance fans that I called best friends.

"Save somethin' for the after party," Denton teased.

"For real. You two be actin' like Abbs just won the game that sent the team to state," Kyle prodded.

"That did happen you dipshit," Carter mocked as he gave Kyle a thump to the back of the head.

"Sarcasm," Ryan informed Carter. Ryan let me go so I could give them all a hug and thank them for their strange words of support.

"Briney still makin' y'all have practice tomorrow?" Kyle inquired.

"Hell yeah," I responded as we did our elbow hand shake. "We got a butt ton of work to do if we want a shot at state."

"Such as not fallin' for the fake passes?" Denton poked.

"I did that once," I grumbled as I stuck my tongue out at him.

"Kennedy was doin' it left and right," Ryan stated with an eye roll. "Tell me again why Briney thinks she should be a starter?"

"She should've been benched after the sixth pass that went directly into the lane," Denton agreed distastefully.

"Yeah, coach is goin' to kill us tomorrow for that. That and all the threes we let slip because we were so—"

"Alright, alright. Enough about what you did wrong," Cory interrupted as he faded into our circle. "How about some celebration for that badass three pointer you just sunk?" He held out a fist which I put mine on top of. He slid his out from underneath mine to tap the top of it, and we ended with a light knuckle bump.

"Seriously. Let's show 'em how we celebrate around here," Ryan added as he lifted me up onto his shoulders. I was overcome with a wave of laughter as I wiped the dripping sweat from my forehead.

"We're goin' to state!" Denton, Cory, Kyle, Carter, and Ryan hollered as the rushed into the mass until they were in the center. Somehow I ended up with the towering trophy. I held it as far as I could above my head and let a contagious scream echo through the gym. The blended mix of students joined in on the celebration, and for the next half hour we did nothing other than rejoice over the feat.

We were going to state.

...

After hundreds of team pictures and selfies with supportive friends, I found myself at the local Fire and Ice with my closest friends. The pizzeria was famous for its homemade ice cream that was prepared to order with liquid nitrogen. It was almost always where the dozen of us went to celebrate.

The back half of the restaurant was loaded with ski ball, an ancient looking billiards table, two ping pongs tables, and even a handful of old slot machines. There was also an area sectioned off for small children to play in, but since it was eleven thirty at night, we were the only ones in the joint.

Denton and Jacob were half way through wiping the floor with Kyle and Ryan at pool, and Cory was absorbed in schooling me at ping pong. Carter and Daniel were hovering around the billiards table, betting against Kyle and Ryan. Carly, Clarissa, Maggie, and Sam were lounging at our table and swapping stories about the crazy things they'd seen on facebook that day.

"I thought you had better ball handling skills than this," Cory laughed as I fetched the ping pong ball I had let fly across the room.

"This ball," I said as I held it in view for him, "is too small. That's my problem." I served the white plastic over the net, and managed to get it back over upon its return, but that was the end of my streak.

"Two in a row that time," Cory teased. "Not sure I can compete with that."

"Shut up," I grumbled as I watched the ball skid to a stop in front of the ski ball machines. "Watch me win this one."

"Bet on it," he said with his toothy grin. Cory was well built, and had half of a typical afro. His skin was dark enough to look like a deep tan, although some days it seemed darker. Of course the number of melanocytes that composed his skin pigment didn't change from day to day, it just felt like they did. He had eyes like mine that were as brown as dark chocolate, and his muscles were so toned that even clenching his ping pong paddle made his bicep flex noticeably. He had a wide nose that matched his big grin and bulging, twinkling eyes.

"I'll bet you twenty bucks I win this serve," I taunted as I bounced the ball over to him.

"I'll take that bet," he snickered as he spun the paddle around in his hand. "This'll be the easiest twenty bucks I ever made."

"Bring it on," I grinned as I readied the paddle.

A glimmer of a smile flickered across his lips before he ran his tongue over his teeth and served the ball over the net. I smashed the white ball with the paddle and it rocketed back over the net. Cory was quick to adjust his stance to return the ball in my direction. Helplessly I watched as the ball bounced in the far corner of the table and crashed to the floor in front of my swinging paddle.

Cory through his arms up and offered a loud, "Wooo!". His fingers were locked in peace signs. I crossed my arms in dismay at his victory celebration. "That'll be one Jackson, please."

"How about two Hamilton's?" I asked through gritted teeth as I tried to fish them out of my pocket.

"As long as it's green and legal," he laughed. Reluctantly I handed him over the two ten dollar bills, and he was off to share the victory with the guys around the brown billiards table. I rubbed the back of my neck with my hand and made my way over to the group of chatting girls at the table.

"How many times have you paid him to beat you at ping pong?" Clarissa inquired.

"You're beatin' a dead horse Abbs. You ain't never gonna beat him," Carly stated matter-of-factly.

"I think I give him twenty bucks every time we come in here," I groaned.

"You ever goin' to learn?" Clarissa giggled.

"Prolly not," Maggie poked with a sustained laugh.

"I'll win my money back someday," I muttered. "I just need to figure out some sort of play that can—"

"If you're thinkin' 'bout ping pong like a basketball game, I think I found your problem," Carly insinuated.

"Seriously. There isn't a playbook for ping pong," Sam laughed.

"There should be," I huffed.

Carly scraped the last bit of ice cream out of her bowl. "Damn I'm gonna regret this," she grumbled.

"You're the last person that needs to be on a diet," Sam told her.

"Seriously," I agreed.

"Why are you even on a diet?" Maggie inquired.

"'Cause I don't like bein' fat. Why is anyone on a diet?" Carly asked with a shoulder roll. "It's always because of the pudge on the waistline, I'm tellin' ya." She hopped up from the table and headed for the trash can.

"Is it just me or is there no pudge on her waistline?" I asked the group quietly. They all shook their heads no. "Just wanted to make sure." There was a pause that settled over the group, which was interrupted by the screaming of all the guys around the pool table.

"So Briney's really makin' y'all have a five a.m. practice tomorrow?" Carly chatted as she returned to her rickety chair.

"I don't think he gets that tomorrow is Saturday," Clarissa grumbled.

"Oh come on. We normally have practice at five," I defended.

"A.m. and p.m.," Sam muttered.

"We obviously need it," I furthered.

"He is gonna kick our ass tomorrow," Clarissa whined as she ran her hands over her face.

"Let's just hope he doesn't start Kennedy anymore," Maggie started. "I swear to god all she did was give them an open pass right into the lane every damn time."

"I noticed that too," Carly seconded.

"And she didn't follow a single play," Clarissa stressed. "I swear every time you called Georgia she would run Mississippi."

"And she wouldn't even do that right," Sam retorted. "She would never, ever help me get around the guard so I had an open shot. She was basically just running around, doing whatever she thought best."

"And she wasn't even doin' that right," Clarissa snarled. "If Briney talks about starters tomorrow and her name's on the list I'm callin' him on it. She ain't got no business bein' on the court unless she's givin' someone a one minute reprieve. Even then I ain't sure she should be on the court."

"Maybe warm ups," Carly giggled. "She could fetch y'all's balls for ya."

A laugh fluttered through the five of us.

"She just needs to focus more in practice," I admitted. "She acts like she's only on the team to complain about it. I don't like that."

"Of course you don't," Sam joked with an eye roll.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded.

"That you're obsessive about basketball," Maggie explained.

"And then some," Carly added.

"Well, am I wrong? She doesn't put the work in at practice, does she? From where I'm at it always feels like she's trying to make some sort of statement."

"Prolly thinks she's too good for practice," Maggie barked with an eye roll.

"She's definitely that way everywhere else she goes," Sam seconded.

"Like art class," Maggie continued.

"Oh my gosh, yes!" Sam burst. "She draws half an avocado that looks like something a dog threw up and she thinks she's at top of the class."

"Somethin' a dog threw up?" I asked with a laugh.

"That avocado was dank," Maggie agreed with a contagious giggle.

"I thought she was entering the avocado in the art competition for Winterfest," I started. "Isn't that what she said in practice? Is it really that bad?"

"You've drawn better," Maggie admitted.

"It's that bad?!" I squeaked. "Holy fuck."

"It's that bad," Sam agreed.

"Feel like I'm missin' out not havin' seen this avocado before," Carly put in.

"If I've drawn better, it must be pretty bad," I said with wide eyes.

"Art's never been your strong suit," Ryan joshed as he slid into a chair beside me.

"Don't you have pool to play?" I asked. I faked annoyance with an eye roll and unenthusiastic voice.

"Nope, just lost. Don't you have ping pong to play?"

"Already lost."

"Oh that's right. At least you didn't lose any money or anything," he teased.

I let out a heavy exhale and checked the clock. "Shit y'all. It's almost midnight, I really should head home. Practice will be here before—"

"You're ditchin' us for a nap?" Kyle asked whilst being playfully offended.

"Some of us just had a strenuous basketball game," I responded as I stuck my tongue out at him. I hopped up from the chair and stood behind Ryan.

"Lame," Cory prodded.

"Seriously Abbs, live a little. We just won regionals for the first time in how ever many years," Clarissa stated.

"Enjoy it!" Carly ordered.

"I will enjoy it, just with my bed and pillow," I winked. I started pulling on Ryan's shoulders in attempt to get him to stand up.

"Can I help you?" he questioned.

"I rode here with you, you've gotta go too."

"Duty calls," Denton joshed with a wink.

"I'm pretty sure you're stuck here 'til I leave," Ryan told me.

"I'm pretty sure you're leavin' now so I don't get stuck here," I shot back.

"Damn son, you better get along," Kyle snorted.

"Fuck off Tillman," Ryan ordered as he got up.

"Guess we're leaving." He put a special emphasis on 'we' before he wrapped an arm around my waist.

"Bye y'all!" Carly hollered.

"See ya at practice," Sam said.

"Don't take too long gettin' to bed," Carter poked. "Might not be good for Abbs at practice tomorrow."

"I think I can handle it," I responded with a wink. Ryan noticeably rolled his eyes and escorted me out of the building toward his Denali. As we passed through the doors of the building he fished his keys out of his pocket and started the truck with the press of a button.

"You owe me now," he said as we neared the purring truck.

"I owe you?" I laughed. "How so?"

"Makin' me leave early and all."

"Eh well. It's kind of a big night for me so I think I we'll just call it even." I slipped out of his arm and made my way to the passenger door. I rested my hand on the sleek handle, but before I could give it a tug I felt Ryan's body right behind mine.

"Can we make a detour by my house first, or do you want me to take you right home?" he asked, his breath hot on my neck. He gave it a soft kiss as his hands inched their way down to my hips. My skin got goose bumps at the thought of what a detour at Ryan's house would entail.

"I do have an early practice tomorrow. It might be counterproductive to—" He slipped his hand under my shirt and I lost my breath. His fingers were cold against my skin, yet the further south they inched the hotter my skin became. He continued to plant tender kisses on my neck until I finally spit out, "Alright. We can make a detour."

"Excellent!" he exclaimed. "Hop in, we have to make up for lost time." Over confidently he strode around the front of the truck and climbed into the driver's seat.

"Lost time?" I asked as he put the key in the ignition and gave it a twist. He dropped the truck in reverse and looked over his shoulder to start backing up.

"All that time I just wasted trying to convince you to allow the detour," he said with a smirk. I rolled my eyes at him as we burned out of the Fire and Ice pizzeria.

...

Walking into Ryan's house, knowing full well his parents weren't home, was nerve wracking. The whole ride over, I had been searching myself for the confidence to approach this evening. And as I walked up to the door, I realized I hadn't found it yet.

Ryan searched through his keys to unlock the house. Meanwhile I studied the wraparound porch we were standing on. The wood was stained dark, and in each corner was what looked to be a potted bonsai tree. There were motion activated porch lights on each side of the door, and one hung from the ceiling in the corners of the porch. Off to the right of the door there was a swing that swung ever so slightly courtesy of the faint breeze that was blowing.

I heard Ryan slide a key in the door, and the do or die feeling returned to my stomach. I offered a faint smile as he ushered me in the house. He slid my jacket off my shoulders and plopped it on the counter. I ran my fingers over my arms as they were starting to form trace amounts of goose bumps.

I watched as he disappeared behind the counter. When he resurfaced he had what must've been a dozen tiger lilies with him. My jaw unhinged at the sight of my favorite flower. "You didn't have to—"