Chapter 12 #2
Some of the girls were dribbling; some caught the balls while others threw up shots.
Sophia knew how to shoot a basketball. On the farm, Walter had fashioned a makeshift hoop out of a milk crate and nailed it to a dying tree.
Though her brothers often drafted her for a game of two against two, she had never played in an actual gym.
Brooks High only had a boys’ basketball team, and while they were good, Sophia had never stayed to watch the games because she needed to tend to evening chores.
A ball rolled toward Sophia, and she stopped it with her foot.
When she reached for it, the basketball felt firm in her hands.
Not heavy and flat, like the balls Walter had brought home from the neighborhood dump.
Sophia dribbled a few times to get the feel of the bouncy ball.
It felt almost natural as she pressed her hand against the leather mound, and it sprang right back up to kiss her palm.
She did the same motion over and over, and before she knew what was happening, she felt like the ball had become an extension of her right hand.
The chatter and movement of the other girls in the room faded from her mind as she picked up her feet and started walking with the ball.
When she realized that she remained in control, she jogged with the ball toward the basket.
At the top of the key, she lifted the ball with both hands, positioned her wrist back, and let the ball fly.
It hit the backboard and went through the hoop.
Swish.
That was what Walter always said when he made a shot. Swish.
Sophia ran for the ball, grabbed it, and then released it again and again. A few balls sailed through the hoop, while others bounced off the rim. Each shot she took felt good. She felt alive. By the time she heard Coach Fletcher’s shrilly whistle, she was hot and damp all over.
“Gather around, girls,” Coach Fletcher called.
“What is she doing here?”
Sophia had lost herself so completely in shooting and dribbling that she hadn’t paid much attention to the other girls. But by now, she could pick Patty’s whiny voice out of a lineup.
“I hope she’s not going to be on the team,” Opal said, snickering. She was Patty’s friend who had made fun of Sophia’s nightgown in the bathroom.
“And look at those shoes.” Patty put her hand up to her mouth to hide her laughter. But everyone had heard her, and all eyeballs shifted to Sophia’s feet.
Before class that morning, Sophia had no choice but to go to the administration building to rummage through the lost and found.
It had been Ma Deary’s solution for whatever items they needed.
With only Ma Deary’s Mary Janes and the donated loafers, Sophia had gone in search of a pair of tennis shoes for practice.
But in the oversize rubber bin of forgotten items, there were no sneakers.
She did manage an umbrella and a pair of rubber-soled oxfords that she had hoped would work for basketball.
As she kept her eyes cast down, taking in everyone’s feet, she saw that the girls wore either Converse All Stars or canvas runabouts, which made the oxfords stand out like a turd in a fruit bowl.
“Patty. Is there something funny?” Coach Fletcher called out.
“No, sir.” Patty straightened.
Coach Fletcher pushed his bangs out of his eyes. “Break into two lines, girls.” Sophia waited to see who would go where and decided on the line opposite Patty’s, wanting to be as far from her as possible.
“We are going to do passing drills. Patty and Sophia, you are up first.”
Patty rolled her eyes. “Can someone else go? I need to tie my shoe,” she faked.
“We can wait.” Coach Fletcher looked at her pointedly.
After retying her shoe, Patty stood, and Coach Fletcher threw her the ball.
“Now, shuffle your feet and pass the ball back and forth to get from one end of the court to the other. Next two, when they reach half-court, then you follow suit.” He blew his whistle to signal that they should begin.
Patty threw the ball hard to Sophia, but she caught it.
To Sophia’s surprise, they made it down the court without once dropping the ball.
After going over the passing drill several times, Coach moved on to dribbling skills.
Fifteen minutes before the end of practice, he broke the girls down into teams of two.
The returning girls wore red pinnies over their tops; Sophia and the newer recruits wore blue pinnies.
Sophia and the girls in blue lost two to twelve to the red team.
When Coach Fletcher blew his whistle to end the game, Sophia was out of breath, and her chest was soaked through.
“Huddle up, girls,” Coach Fletcher called, and passed out the practice and game schedules. Then he took down the girls’ uniform sizes and preferred numbers for their jerseys. As the girls headed to the locker room, Coach signaled to Sophia. “Hey, you played really well today.”
“Thank you.”
He lowered his voice. “Normally, we only allow trainers on the court. Do you need a pair?”
Sophia’s mouth went dry. “I forgot to pack them, and I won’t be going home for a while. I could ask my—”
“We have extra tennis shoes in the office, left over from previous gym years. Write down your size.” He extended the clipboard. “Then arrive a few minutes early to practice tomorrow, and I’ll have them ready for you,” he said with a kind smile.
Sophia wanted to hug him.
“Go, Bears,” he said, pointing to the mascot in the center of the court.
“Go, Bears.” She smiled.
When Sophia hobbled out of the girls’ gym, she heard loud voices coming from across the hall.
A gang of giant-size boys streamed out of their gym in groups of three and four, bantering loudly and horseplaying.
Max was pulling a windbreaker over his T-shirt when they spotted each other.
Sophia tried not to let the delight of running into him reach her face.
“Did the book help?” He gave her a sloppy grin.
“Actually, it did. Too bad I didn’t have enough energy to make it through practice because you ate half of my cookie,” she teased.
“Seriously, you couldn’t possibly be holding on to that cookie from the other day.” Max chuckled. “You should carry a piece of fruit with you to eat before practice, anyway. That’ll give you real energy.”
Max held the door to the athletic center for her.
The night air was cool, and she could see a sliver of the quarter-moon shining through the branches of the walnut tree.
They walked in silence, and the cacophony of night creatures hemming and hawing reminded her of home.
Sophia racked her brain for something to talk about.
“Where are you from?” she asked, remembering Louis’s question to her.
“Silver Spring.”
“In Maryland?”
He nodded.
“I’m from Prince Frederick. But that’s way down south,” she said. “Do you have any sisters or brothers?”
“Nope, only child. I have a bunch of cousins, though. An older cousin who is like my brother; we grew up in the same neighborhood.”
They wandered through the quad. “What made you come to Forest?” she asked.
“My mom’s a teacher. When she heard that Forest was opening their door to Negro students, she was first in line with my application.”
“But did you want to come here?”
“I don’t recall really having a choice, to be honest. How about you?”
Sophia shrugged. “I was selected through a program.”
“So how did you learn to play basketball? I don’t know many girls who can hoop.”
“Blame that on having three brothers. They needed me for their games of two-on-two and H-O-R-S-E.”
“You play H-O-R-S-E?”
They were almost to her dorm, and she could feel Max slowing his pace, so she did the same. Was he enjoying their conversation too?
“The boys didn’t really give me a choice.”
“Well, I’d like to see you beat me in H-O-R-S-E. It will only take about five minutes for me to take you out.”
“Any time you want to get clobbered, let me know,” she replied boldly.
“Cocky.” Max wagged his finger at her. “I like that.”
Sophia felt gooseflesh run up and down her arms.
“Has Coach told you what position you’re going to play?” he asked.
“Not yet.”
“You look like a shooting guard or small forward to me. I play the point. Which means I control the offense.” He jumped up in the air and shot a pretend basketball. When he came down, he misjudged his footing and bumped into Sophia’s shoulder.
“Dag, watch it,” she said, pouting.
“I’m so sorry.” He stopped moving. “Where did I hurt you?”
“Right here.” Sophia pointed to the top of her arm. With his palm, Max rubbed it several times. He smelled like the outdoors, and his caress made Sophia’s brain fill with static.
“Better?” He looked into her eyes, and the world around her stilled.
“Yes,” she breathed.
They had reached the entrance to her dorm and fell into an awkward silence.
“I guess you owed me one for crashing into you the other day,” Sophia said.
“I’d never hurt a girl on purpose. My mother raised me right,” he said, then he started jogging backward. “Remember, if you ever want me to school you on the court, you know where to find me.” He turned the corner and moved toward the boys’ dormitory. She watched him until he was out of sight.
Sophia was still replaying their conversation in her head when she walked into her dorm room.
“What are you all giddy about?” Willa looked up from her notebook. She was sitting at her small desk, already dressed in her nightclothes.
“Just thinking about… basketball practice. It was actually way more fun than I had expected.”
“Oh, goody. Tennis was cool too. Except for this upperclassman who thought she could shut me down. I just kept my lips tight and my eyes on the ball and beat her in three sets two to one.”
“Congratulations.”
Willa took a hair tie from her wrist and twirled her curls into a messy bun. “My father says I have the potential to be the next Althea Gibson.”
Sophia kicked off her shoes and peeled back her socks. “Who’s that?”
“Only the first Negro woman to win a Grand Slam title in tennis. She won a whopping eleven titles over the course of her career.”
Sophia had no idea what a Grand Slam title was, but she didn’t want Willa to think she was ignorant, so she didn’t ask. As Willa continued with her tennis facts, Sophia found it hard to concentrate because her thoughts kept floating back to Max.
Unable to hold it in a moment longer, she blurted, “I met a boy named Max today.” She hoped that her voice sounded neutral and unaffected.
“Max! Isn’t he a dreamboat? We are practically going steady.” Willa slapped the desk with her palm.
Sophia felt the wind being knocked out of her.
“What did he say? Did he ask about me?”
Sophia shook her head.
“He probably didn’t realize that we were roommates. Have you met Claude yet? I was thinking that he’d be a good match for you.”
“No, not yet.” Sophia picked at a ball of lint on her comforter so Willa could not see the disappointment on her face.
“Claude is also on the basketball team. I’m surprised he wasn’t with Max. They’re roommates.”
Willa started describing Claude, but all Sophia could think was that Willa was already dating Max. It was the first time she had ever liked a boy, and he was off-limits. She had rotten, stinking luck. Then she remembered what she had been holding on to.
Sophia reached into the small pocket of her school bag and pulled out the napkin-wrapped cookie.
She hadn’t had the heart to throw it out.
When she unraveled the napkin, Max’s bite mark stared back at her in the shape of a smile.
Sophia brought the cookie to her lips, sucking on the bite until it dissolved into sugar on her tongue.
Then she nibbled at it until she had eaten every stale crumb.