Into the Shadows (13 page)

“I know you have three games this week, what if I
came to watch you play?”

Paivi was thrilled, but she couldn’t show it, she
had to keep playing the game.

“That’s pretty good, but it did take you until
Monday to apologize. That means you were a super sourpuss for
almost a whole week.” She straightened some items in her locker
that were already straight.

“Wow, you drive a hard bargain, Miss Anderson. Okay,
what if I throw in a movie on Saturday night. Your choice. I’ll
even go to,” he gave a loud sigh, covered his eyes and whispered,
“a chick flick.”

Paivi slammed her locker and turned to face him. It
felt like they were the only two people in the crowded hallway.

“Mr. Santos, I am impressed! That’s quite the offer!
I think I can live with that. Apology accepted.” She held out her
hand to Jason and shook it. Her fingers tingled as their hands
touched.

“See you later in Current Events,” she struggled to
get the words out.

A movie with Jason…could the day get any better? she
thought, turning in a daze, and running smack into Christian
Nelson. Her heart dropped a little.

“Are you sure he’s not your boyfriend? You are with
him and awful lot.”

“No,” she answered curtly. “I don’t have a
boyfriend. He’s just a friend.”

“Just a friend? Right. Whatever. Anyway, any luck
with those scores yet?” He walked next to her as she moved down the
hall towards her biology class.

“No, not yet, but I’m working on it. I promise. See
you later!” she added hurriedly as she dashed away from him through
the classroom door just as the bell rang.

Paivi blinked her eyes, waking from her daydream.
Mr. Patel was still going over the same problem on the board with
the class. At least she hadn’t missed much. She had a sick feeling
in the pit of her stomach. What if she couldn’t get those scores?
What would Christian do? Paivi rubbed her eyes and tried to focus
on the problem. She was letting all of these things cloud her mind
when she should really be focusing on the game tonight. Everything
else would just have to wait until later.

* * *

Paivi picked at her dinner, swirling the peas around
the plate with her fork.

“Mom, Paivi didn’t eat her peas,” Torsten shouted to
Mrs. Anderson, who was already cleaning up the kitchen. “Tell her
she can’t go to her game unless she finishes her peas!”

“Shut up, Tor!” She flung a pea at him from her
plate.

“Mom! Paivi is throwing peas at me!” he
screamed.

“Torsten, mind your own business, Paivi, stop
throwing peas. Honestly, how old are you two? I could swear your
kindergarten graduations were a long time ago!” said Mrs. Anderson,
coming to the table to grab a few dirty dishes. “Now hurry up and
get your stuff together or we will be late to the game. Your father
is meeting us there when he gets off work.

“Mom, Torsten is trying to look pretty for the high
school girls ‘cause he thinks he’s going to get a date. Look at all
that gunk in his hair!”

Mrs. Anderson walked up next to Torsten’s chair,
inspecting his overly-moussed hairstyle. She wrapped her arms
around him in a big bear hug.

“Of course my little Torsty is so pretty. He’s just
darling! What girl wouldn’t want to go out with him?” She squeezed
his cheeks. Torsten, still wrapped in his mother’s embrace, turned
to Paivi and stuck out his tongue. “So handsome, my baby boy!”

Paivi looked on in horror, her eyes and mouth open
wide. “I think I’m gonna be sick!”

“Come on now, get your stuff and get into the car,
we’ve got to go!” Mrs. Anderson rushed them out of the kitchen.
“Paivi, make sure you have all of your things for the game.”

Paivi rifled through her bag again quickly. Shoes,
two pairs of knee-length white socks, ponytail holders, water
bottle. Check, check, and check. She had already checked the bag
three times before. She always felt her game was off if she forgot
something. She knew it was all stupid superstition, but she didn’t
care.

As they drove through St. Andrew, they passed the
First National Bank. Out front stood the bank’s sign, which showed
the time and temperature. Paivi was surprised to see what was not
the time or the temperature.

GOOD LUCK PAIVI

She blinked and looked again, but all she saw was
the lights showing 5:42 PM.

She half smiled at the thought of the message, but
stopped herself. She couldn’t start getting sucked into Christian’s
game. He was using her. He just wanted her to like him so he
wouldn’t feel so guilty about what he was doing. She was impressed
to think that he might actually feel guilty about something, but
she wasn’t going to let him win that easy.

The school parking lot was already packed with cars
when they arrived. Paivi said a quick goodbye to her mother and
brother and made her way downstairs to the girls’ locker room.
After getting dressed, the team headed down the hall away from the
gym and the crowds. Coach Espinosa and their assistant coach, an
extremely thin man that went by the name of Chubby, waited for them
in a classroom at the end of the hall.

The faces around the room were serious, solemn. Game
faces. Coach Espinosa felt that if you were smiling, you weren’t
thinking about the game. The girls were all about business and
listened intently while Coach Espinosa went over what plays and
players to watch for. She began to go through the line-up. Missy,
Elena, Gina, Leyla, and…Paivi?

Paivi looked up with a start at Coach Espinosa, a
bit bewildered. She was starting? Her palms started to sweat.

“Paivi, Buffalo Glen is playing their usual center,
Brooke West. I want you to guard her and only her. Paivi can’t help
anyone else tonight. And you all should double-team on Brooke any
time she gets the ball. Don’t leave Paivi alone. She is just as big
and strong as Brooke, but Brooke has a lot of experience and she
can score. She averages twenty-five points a game. If we are going
to win tonight, we have to make sure she doesn’t get those
twenty-five points. Clear?” Coach Espinosa asked.

“Yes coach!” they shouted back in unison.

Coach Espinosa looked directly at Paivi.

“Remember, Brooke is all yours and make sure she
does NOT score.”

Paivi narrowed her eyes, focusing on her task. She
nodded her head.

“Got it coach.”

The girls made their way upstairs, chanting
‘Tartans’ as loud as they could until they reached the door of the
gym for warm-ups. They waited in the doorway until the music
started, the beats echoing through the entire gymnasium. They ran
in one after the other and then split into two lines, running
around the court and slapping hands with fans in the crowd.

When the music stopped, the girls returned to the
bench and the starters were seated. As they were introduced to the
crowd, they made their way to center court to shake hands with
their opponents and then returned to their bench.

At last it was time for the jump ball. Paivi went to
center court. She balanced on the balls of her feet, knees bent,
arms up. Her body was tense, she felt like a lion, ready to pounce.
Brooke West stood inches away, in a similar stance. They looked at
each other for a second until the referee presented the ball. Their
eyes were glued to the prize.

“Ready?” the referee asked.

Paivi felt like she was going to explode.

The whistle blew — the referee threw the ball
straight up in the air.

Paivi shot up like a rocket, going for the ball. Two
hands on it, she pulled it down towards her and passed it off to
one of the guards. Leyla Bianchi scored the first points for the
Tartans.

The game continued at a quick pace. Paivi stuck to
Brooke West like glue, struggling and shoving on both ends of the
floor. Brooke managed a few shots over her, but not without
receiving a few bruises. By the fourth quarter, Brooke West had
given up. Every time she turned, Paivi was there. Every move to the
basket caused her to get tangled in two or three Tartans. The
Buffaloes were frustrated but had stayed in the game, always
keeping within at least five points.

As the time wound down, the Buffaloes had a burst of
energy, shooting a three-pointer and making a quick shot off of an
out-of-bounds play to tie up the game. The Tartans couldn’t get a
shot in the final second and the game ended in a tie, forcing the
game into overtime.

The girls returned to the bench to regroup.

“Keep fighting in there, Paivi, you’re doing great.
Guys, we need some good shots, quickly. Come on! Run your offense
and stay on your toes. Let’s go!” Coach Espinosa shouted.

Paivi looked up at the scoreboard and instead of the
score showing a tie of 65-65, she saw the lights rearrange to spell
out something else.

GOING FOR 3

And on the other side was one number.

15

She turned to look into the crowd, trying to quickly
scan for Christian’s face. There wasn’t enough time, the buzzer
rang and they were pushed back onto the floor.

Her mind was racing. Number 15 was going to go for a
three. But if she did anything about it, she would be cheating,
wouldn’t she? They were lining up for the jump ball. There wasn’t
time to think. Elena had number 15, but there was no way to tell
her now.

Focus, just focus, she thought, forcing herself to
look at the ball and get into position for the second jump ball of
the game.

The referee threw the ball between her and Brooke
West and they jumped. They both touched the ball, tipping it
sideways into the hands of one of the Buffaloes.

The teams took off down the floor towards the
basket. The Buffaloes took their spots on the floor, setting up
their next play.

I have to do this, thought Paivi, scanning the floor
for number 15.

The girl was coming in her direction, off a pick set
by one of her teammates. Paivi saw the ball being passed to the
short blond, who had set up out by the three-point line. She took
her chance, leaving Brooke West unguarded, which she was sure to
get in trouble for, but she didn’t care.

The ball was almost to number 15, who didn’t even
notice Paivi approaching. Paivi got one hand on the ball and
slapped it out of her hands, towards the other end of the floor and
chased after it. The crowd erupted in cheers as everyone jumped to
their feet. It was exhilarating. She saw Missy running for the
hoop, she tossed her a quick pass and Missy scored two points with
a lay-up. The walls of the gym were shaking from the roar of the
crowd.

There was no time to enjoy it, however, the game
kept going. The Tartans lined up into their man-to-man full-court
press. Elena and Missy forced the Buffaloes to turn over the ball
to them at half court and called a time out.

The noise was immense, the band was playing the
school song and the fans were singing along as the five players ran
over to the bench.

“Good play, Paivi, but don’t leave Brooke West by
herself again. That’s dangerous. Now, go out there and run the play
for Leyla, keep up the momentum!” Coach Espinosa screamed, her
voice lost in the noise of the crowd.

The girls lined up at half court and were able to
get the ball in quickly and set up their offense. They set their
picks and moved around the court. Leyla fought hard to get
open.

“Run it again!” Leyla shouted at Missy, and the
girls went through the play again.

Two Buffaloes double-teamed Leyla under the basket.
Paivi was left alone, wide open, on the opposite side. Elena, with
the ball at the top of the key, saw Paivi and dished her a pass.
Paivi went up for a lay-up and scored. As she was coming down from
the shot, a Buffalo took her legs out from under her, sending her
crashing to the floor.

Foul. One shot.

Paivi’s teammates helped her up and she headed to
the free-throw line. It was hard to focus; she could barely hear
herself think. She stood at the line and took a deep breath. The
referee took a look around and gave Paivi the ball. She looked at
the basket, lined herself up, bent her knees and felt her body go
through the motions. She released the ball and watched it as it
silently spun through the air. It felt like time had stopped.

SWISH

The ball sailed straight through the hoop, without
even touching the rim. Paivi breathed after what seemed like an
eternity. The crowd went wild. The score was now 70-65. Only one
minute left. The Buffaloes were frantic. They attempted to get off
another shot during the last minute to no avail. The Tartans played
out the last few seconds, passing the ball around the court to run
out the clock.

At the buzzer, scores of cheering fans ran out onto
the floor to congratulate the Tartans. The team gathered at center
court to receive the tournament trophy.

Paivi hung back a little, looking around the crowd
for her parents and for Jason. She spotted Christian in the midst
of the crowd. He met her eye and smiled. She scowled and turned
away.

They hadn’t won because she played hard. They’d won
because she had cheated. She was angry, angry with herself for
using the tip and that she was letting Christian win. Now he had
even more dirt on her. And he knew she could be used just like he
used everyone else.

She turned back to the team.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad, she thought, looking at how
happy they all were. I did it for them, for our team. I didn’t do
it just for me.

The girls were passing the trophy around to have
their pictures taken. Paivi posed for a few and then headed over to
the bench to pick up her things. As she approached the bench, she
could see Coach Espinosa surrounded by the local reporters. The
three reporters turned to Paivi with their notepads and tape
recorders.

“Paivi, great game!” said the first reporter, a
short, stocky man with a moustache and a baseball hat. “I’m Dan
Reinhard from the St. Andrew Herald. What were you thinking during
the overtime? That steal was spectacular! It changed the whole tide
of the game!”