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.
