A Game Worth Watching (18 page)

“Lucky
shots,” Shiloh muttered.

Emma
saw Lauren and Madison nod in agreement.

“Lucky
shots?” Emma crossed the room to confront Shiloh. “And how many points do you
have? Maybe four? And, unlike Ashley who’s only played for two minutes, you’ve
played almost the entire time. Interesting.”

Shiloh
diverted her eyes, and Emma looked around the room at her so-called teammates.
Not even when they were losing by thirty points did they show any interest in
playing as a team.

Before
anyone else said anything, Emma continued. “Unless we want to lose this game by
fifty points, we’d better step it up and start playing basketball. Stop
fouling, start scoring, and start playing like a team. Let’s take control of
this game.” She stood like an idiot with her hand outstretched for the team
huddle, waiting for her teammates to join her. No one moved. Emma’s one attempt
to initiate a team action was denied. The seconds ticked by, feeling like an
eternity, until Ashley stood from the bench in front of her and placed her hand
on Emma’s. She gave Emma a smile. Emma winked in return. One by one each of the
other girls finally stepped forward.

Coach
extended her hand into the circle. “Team on three.”

Emma
bolted for the door, flung it open, and emerged from the locker room. The gym
didn’t feel as claustrophobic as the locker room, at least not at first, but
then Emma caught sight of her defender from Evergreen, Valerie Hockus. Valerie
was Evergreen’s shining star and the girl knew it. Sure, she was a decent
player, but nothing Emma couldn’t handle.

With
an arrogant grin, Valerie looked at the scoreboard and then at Emma. A silent
slap in the face.

“I
don’t want to lose by fifty points.” Shiloh, her brown skin still glistening
with sweat from the first half, stepped beside Emma. “Tell me what I have to
do.”

“Block
out and get the rebounds,” Emma said, more as a challenge than an
encouragement. “When they miss their first shot, we can’t let them get the
rebound and go up for a second or third attempt.”

Shiloh
cracked her knuckles, her scowl firmly in place as she stared at the other
team. “Done.”

Shiloh
usually looked like nothing more than a six-foot-one stick figure, but standing
beside Emma on the sideline, something about her changed. Maybe her
tentativeness morphed into confidence or maybe her energy channeled into a purpose,
but Emma felt herself smile, knowing the second half would be an entirely
different ballgame.

Shiloh
stopped fouling. She didn’t reach in, she didn’t swipe at the ball when someone
went up for a shot, and she didn’t ram into people to make a statement.
Instead, she planted her feet, held her hands straight up in the air, and drew
the offensive fouls. As she stepped up to the free-throw line, she met Emma’s
eye, and then put two shots through the basket without hesitation. Her four
points increased to six, then ten, then twelve, but the most impressive part
wasn’t her scoring, it was her rebounding. Everyone heard Shiloh’s grunts as
she pushed off the floor, her hands extending above everyone else’s, to snatch
the ball from the air and bring it back down to playing level.

She
was unstoppable.

Each
time, she’d look for the outlet pass and snap the ball to Emma, like they’d
been playing together for years. And just like that, Bradshaw reclaimed
possession of the ball and the game. Evergreen’s lead started to dwindle.

By
the start of the fourth quarter, Bradshaw only trailed by twenty. Shiloh and
Madison had avoided adding additional fouls to their record, but Lauren, who’d
fouled out near the end of the third quarter, watched the fourth from the bench.
With eight minutes on the clock, Evergreen tried to maintain control of the
game and not let Bradshaw score any more points, but Bradshaw refused to give
up, knowing if they couldn’t win the game they’d at least turn a few heads and
not go down without a fight. The intensity and viciousness of the game hadn’t
relented in three quarters and, if anything, it only escalated in the fourth.
Bradshaw wasn’t the same team as last year, and every player on the Evergreen
team knew it. Evergreen may have held their lead, but it wasn’t easy.

With
two minutes left on the clock, Evergreen raced down the court on a fast break.
Three-on-one. With a teammate on either side of her, Valerie brought the ball
up the court with only one defender to face, Emma. Two points should have been
a piece of cake, but the girl went one-on-one with Emma instead of taking a
team approach. Sure, she had some fancy foot moves and fluid basketball skills,
but Emma had played enough with the guys to read body language.

Valerie
jabbed right, then left, faked a crossover and then pulled up for a shot.

Smack!

The
sound of Emma’s hand blocking the ball ricocheted through the gym, and the ball
soared out of bounds.

Boos
and claps erupted from the crowd in an uproar of sound. Despite Evergreen’s
protests, the ref announced it a clean block.

Evergreen
set up on the sideline to inbound the ball, and Bradshaw matched up with them.
With a minute and a half left on the clock, the score no longer mattered to
either team. Evergreen would win, no doubt about it, but Bradshaw wasn’t done
turning heads. On back-to-back plays, Christi stole the ball and raced
downcourt to add four points to Bradshaw’s score, Madison and Steph attacked
the basket on a breakaway, and Steph scored with an easy jump shot. Everyone
waited for Emma to make her move.

The
seconds on the clock clicked backward giving just enough time for Emma to set
up for the final play. She could have passed, maybe she should have, but she
knew her teammates weren’t ready for this moment yet—being in possession
of the ball with ten seconds left on the clock against their cross-town rival.
Being fifteen points down with less than ten seconds on the clock left time for
only one thing—give the crowd something to remember them by.

Emma
held the ball at the top of the key, face-to-face with Valerie. Sweat poured
off her face, her heart beat time and a half, and her hands dribbled the ball
between them. Waiting. Emma smiled; she loved these kinds of moments. Five
seconds on the clock, five seconds to make her final move. Emma dribbled
between her legs, once, twice, jabbed right, spun left, and plowed her way
through the key. Two defenders collapsed on her, their hands raised to block
her shot, but they were a second too late. Emma slipped between them, secured
the ball between her hands and pushed off the floor. Suspended in the air, she
looped the ball down and around before flipping it up over the rim of the
basket as the final buzzer sounded.

Bradshaw
lost by thirteen points, but it didn’t matter. The roar from the Evergreen fans
cheering for Bradshaw, the looks of hope in her teammate’s eyes, and the anger
and fear filling Valerie’s face made Emma think of only one thing: rematch.

Highlights
of their game against Evergreen swept through school the following day like the
gusty winds of December. None of the guys had witnessed the game, but they
could all retell the story of Emma’s block and her final drive to the basket in
detail to any eager listener. Courtesy of the freshman.

“I
wish I could have been there,” Riley repeated for the millionth time as he
leaned against the wall of lockers while Emma swapped books out of her bag.

“It
wasn’t a big deal,” she reassured him. Given the option, Emma always preferred
to talk about basketball, but ever since last night’s game against Evergreen,
she grew restless whenever the subject came up. For the first time since
entering high school, people actually started to look
at
her rather than
through
her. She felt exposed.

Riley’s
jaw dropped to the floor. “Not a big deal? Ashley can’t stop talking about it.
She said you dominated the game.”

“I
can’t imagine the freshman using the word dominated to describe me.”

He
rolled his eyes. “So I condensed all of her
Wonder Woman
stories about you into one word.
It still doesn’t change the fact Jerry’s right. You are a superstar.”

This
time Emma rolled her eyes. The whole basketball business was out of control.
Since when did Riley and the guys take a freshman’s word over hers? Did their
years of friendship mean nothing? It was bad enough the guys treated her like
some celebrity, but did the rest of the school have to suddenly acknowledge her
existence simply because of her performance on the court? Kids who had spent
the majority of their lives ignoring her nodded hello, congratulated her on a
game well played and stopped talking when she entered a room to stare at her.
She even saw a few guys she didn’t know reenact her shot block with wadded
pieces of paper. Unbelievable! Emma wasn’t interested in popularity or being liked
because of some stupid trend.

Despite
everyone’s sudden interest in her, she did her best to ignore them and focus
her efforts on planning for her one-on-one practice with Ashley. Even though
the kid was starting to look like a real basketball player, she still had a lot
to learn. As practice ended and their teammates filed out the door, Emma
positioned Ashley at the top of the free-throw line with her back to the
basket. The kid needed to learn how to catch a pass, spin to the basket, and
make a split decision of whether to drive or shoot.

When
Ashley’s attention flickered to the sideline behind Emma, Emma didn’t think
much of it; when the kid nudged her arm and nodded toward the sideline, Emma
spun around to scold Riley for making another one of his surprise appearances.
Words froze on the end of her tongue when she saw, not Riley, but Shiloh and
Peyton. With arms crossed and eyebrows raised, the two girls looked at Emma
expectantly.

Recovering
from the presence of two additional girls, Emma didn’t try to keep her tone
soft and welcoming. “What are you doing here?”

Shiloh
nodded toward Ashley. “The freshman said you give private lessons.”

Emma
glared at Ashley. Rule number three of their little one-on-one practice
arrangement: tell no one. So much for trusting Ashley to keep a secret.

Ashley’s
eyes bounced between Emma and the unwelcome visitors before throwing her arms
up in innocence. “What? Shiloh asked why I stay after practice every day, so I
told her you were teaching me a few things. I couldn’t
lie
.”

Emma
closed her eyes and shook her head, trying her best not to reprimand Ashley.
She turned back to Shiloh and Peyton. “The freshman was wrong. I don’t give
private lessons.”

Shiloh
shrugged. “Whatever you want to call them, we’re in.”

“In
what?” Emma asked.

Shiloh
rolled her eyes. “We’re here to learn.”

“Learn
what?” Yeah, they had to spell it out for her. The last thing she wanted was to
jump to conclusions only to give them ideas that were sure to drive her insane.

“You’ve
seen us play. You know our strengths and weaknesses. We’ll learn anything you
want to teach us.”

“I
don’t want to teach you anything. That’s what Coach is for.”

Peyton
laughed. “We all know Coach is a flake. She has no clue how to coach, so it’s
up to you.”

Emma
opened her mouth to protest, but Shiloh held up her hand. “Look, I want to up
my game to the next level, and to do that I need someone who knows what they’re
talking about to help me out. I’ve seen how you helped Ashley. I’ll do whatever
you tell me,” Shiloh brushed by Emma, retrieved a ball from the rack, and
joined Ashley on the court, “but I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Peyton
shadowed Shiloh, and as she passed Emma she whispered, “Same goes for me.”

Were
seventeen-year-olds too old to throw volcanic temper tantrums? Because Emma
wanted to. Badly. Why did girls continuously invade her life? Did they know or
care if their presence was unwanted? Emma looked to Ashley, hoping for backup,
but the freshman just smiled, welcoming her new friends like sisters.

Outnumbered
three to one.

Emma’s
head fell backward, looking to some higher power for strength and a whole lot
of patience. “Fine,” she exhaled in defeat. What other choice did she have?
“But one strike, and we’re done.”

Emma
scowled at their three identical grins, wondering how in the world her
one-on-one practices with Ashley became three-on-one lessons with half the
team.

***

Emma
didn’t need to worry about Shiloh and Peyton saying anything about their private
lessons to the rest of the girls. The next day at practice, aside from a few
glances in her direction, they ignored her like usual. They laughed and joked
around with Lauren and Madison and left Emma outside their clique, thank
goodness. Truth be told, she preferred it that way. Sure she could teach them a
few things about basketball, but she wasn’t ready for friendship. It was best
to keep it less personal and more basketball.

Five
free throws. That’s all each of them needed to make before they could escape
from the gym for the evening. For Emma, free throws were like breathing. She
could nail five free throws in less than ten seconds. For the rest of them it
took anywhere from two minutes to half a day. Emma cringed at Madison’s form.
No wonder she couldn’t make a shot to save her life. Evidently, Madison knew
she lacked in the shooting department. How could she not? For every one free
throw she made, she missed twenty.

“What
am I doing wrong?” Madison whined to no one in particular.

Were
these cries for help contagious? First Ashley, then Shiloh and Peyton, and now
Madison. Emma told herself to remain silent, to bow her head and not care about
Madison bursting into tears. Emma wasn’t a coach, she wasn’t a friend, and she
wasn’t Santa’s little helper. So why did she step in front of Madison, kick her
feet shoulder-width apart, square her shoulders to the basket, straighten her
shooting arm, and adjust her hands on the ball?