Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
NOAH
“Decan Flynn!” I shout out to my varsity post. “Your sister is running rings around you, man!”
Leah takes advantage of her brother’s stunned disbelief at being called out and hip checks him right off the court.
After stumbling several feet out of bounds, Decan finally succumbs to gravity and hits the ground with a loud smacking sound. “Foul! That was a foul! I get two points!”
“No foul,” I tell him.
“She knocked me off my feet,” he whines.
“She used her butt. That’s legal.”
Decan huffs and puffs and looks like he’s about to blow a gasket. The good news is that he gets back into the game with a determination I can only assume is fueled by the need for revenge.
As the scrimmage continues, I notice the door to the gym open. I have a hard time hiding my surprise when Allie Rogers walks in. She didn’t sound overly excited about the job prospect on the phone. Certainly not enough that she would rush right over.
Hesitantly lifting a hand in greeting, Allie waves while making her way toward me. Once she arrives, all she says is, “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself. What are you doing here?”
She shrugs. “I was out for a walk.”
Motioning toward the action of the court, I tell her, “These are the girls I was telling you about.”
She watches for several moments, before deciding, “They’re good.”
“They are. In fact, I’d say they’re better than the boys.”
“My dad says the boys’ basketball team hasn’t done that well in recent years.
They’re certainly nothing like they were your senior year.
” An adorable blush stains Allie’s cheeks, which is not a reaction I would have expected from her.
Especially, because she made sure to tell me she was not interested in going out with me.
“They’re not hungry,” I tell her. “I was hoping that playing with the girls would bring out their need to pony up and show the world what they’ve got. But so far, they’re more mad than determined.”
Allie motions toward the court. “I bet if you played boys against girls, you’d see their inner beasts come out.” She explains, “By mixing the teams, you’re making it hard for them to fight the perceived enemy.”
She might have a point. Lifting my whistle, I give it a sharp blow. “Everyone over here!” Following Allie’s advice, I announce, “We’re going to play the boys against the girls.”
The girls cheer while the boys glare at them like they’re fungus on the bathroom wall.
“They don’t stand a chance against us!” Alfonse DeMarco declares heatedly.
I watch as Allie walks over to the girls. As they instinctively huddle around her, she tells them, “Don’t pay any attention to them. They’re not that good.”
“What?!” This from Kenny James. “We’re good! We just don’t want to play with girls.”
“You’re eight hundred and thirtieth in the state, Kenny,” I remind him.
“You ladies are great, even without a coach,” Allie tells her potential new flock.
“We’re not really a team,” Leah says. “There are only seven of us, so all we do is play three on three.”
“You don’t need a coach to be a team,” Allie says. “You just need to practice, and it looks like you’re doing that.”
A short brunette name Klea raises her hand. “Do you play basketball?”
“I did in high school,” Allie tells her.
“Were you any good?” another girl wants to know.
“Fourteenth in the state.”
Leah claps her hands enthusiastically. “That’s amazing!”
When Allie smiles, her face becomes carefree and unguarded. She’s positively stunning in a way that I have not noticed before. “We worked hard,” she says. “But we had a lot of fun.”
“Our boys’ team is practically the worst in Wisconsin,” grumbles one of the girls. “I don’t understand why they get a team, and we don’t.”
Several of the guys start to protest, but they don’t gather much steam. After all, there’s no fighting the truth of rank.
Allie leads the girls to the other side of the court, all the while chatting quietly enough not to be overheard.
Jake Fenton, who plays shooting guard, vehemently declares, “I’m not playing against a bunch of girls. This is the boys’ team so we should scrimmage against ourselves.”
I shake my head. “We’ve been playing with the girls and so far you’re more impressive with them. Quite honestly, I’d like to see if they wipe the floor with you.”
“You think they will?” Decan demands heatedly.
“At this point,” I tell him, “I’m pretty sure they can.”
That seems to fire the guys up enough that when I pick the five starters, they take to the court like pillaging conquerors.
Allie has chosen Leah to tip off against her brother and once again, when I blow the whistle to start the game, Leah reaches the ball first. She taps it in the direction of Madeline who carries it down the court with ease.
Madeline passes it to the point guard, a position played by sophomore Peyton Hangler.
Peyton effortlessly shoots a three-pointer and scores.
The girls cheer while the boys’ complaints fill the air.
They yell things like, “We can’t play offense without running them over!
” and “If I knocked into her she’d break in two! ”
“Liar!” Peyton retaliates. “I would have gotten that basket even if you did try to block me.” Emphasis on the word “try.”
I enjoy the next thirty minutes more than I’ve appreciated anything since coming back to Elk Lake. The boys finally play like their lives depend upon it. And if not their lives, at the very least their masculinity. The girls push back equally hard, and the competition is pure joy to watch.
In the last minute of the game, the score is tied fourteen to fourteen.
Leah Flynn has the ball in the post, and she’s being guarded by her brother, Decan.
She turns to the right to make her shot, but when her brother mirrors her, she ducks left and flips the ball up from directly beneath the basket.
That’s not a shot most novices can make, so to even attempt it, I’m convinced Leah practices a lot.
The ball teeters on the rim for a split second before falling into the basket and winning the game for the girls. Their ensuing celebration is well-earned.
I call the boys over for a post-game huddle and I’m surprised when they aren’t immediately full of grievances. Embarrassment seems to be the stronger emotion at play.
Ashton, the varsity power forward, raises his hand and solemnly declares, “They deserved that win.”
“Man, that’s low,” Decan says. “We didn’t play aggressive enough is all.”
Alfonse DeMarco chimes in. “We were being easy on them, so we didn’t hurt them.”
I roll my eyes at that. “Were you being easy on Madeline when you knocked her over?” His gaze shifts guiltily to the floor. Pointing to Decan, I ask, “Were you taking it easy on your sister when you elbowed her in the ribs?”
No one seems to have any response, so I tell them, “The good news is that you played hard. This is the first time I’ve seen you guys with any fire.”
“But we lost!” Jake Fenton moans.
“By two points,” I tell him. “You could have just as easily won if you were faster passers. You’ve got to keep the ball in motion, so the other team doesn’t have the opportunity to steal it.”
A couple of heads start to move up and down in agreement. “Let’s spend the rest of the practice on passing drills,” I tell them. “I promise that once you have those down, you’re going to climb in ranking quickly. Now, go congratulate the girls on their win.”
“No way!” Kenny James turns away like he’s going to leave the gym.
“Yes, way,” Decan tells him. “We may not be where we want to be, but we’re not going to be bad sports.” He leads the way, albeit not with great enthusiasm.
Allie jogs across the gym still wearing a huge grin on her face. I like seeing her smile more than I want to admit. I don’t know Allie Rogers as an adult, but I’d like to change that. She’s full of complexities that make cracking that hard shell of hers a challenge I’m sure I’d enjoy.
“Congratulations,” I tell her. “You’ve been coaching for less than an hour and you already have a winning team.”
“They’re a great bunch of girls, Noah. They seriously want to play.”
“So, you’ll take the job?”
She snorts. “I haven’t been offered the job yet. I haven’t even met with Mr. Cooke.”
“What kind of grades did you get in English while you were here?” I ask her.
She laughs easily. “A’s, of course.”
“He’s going to offer you the job,” I predict. “The question is, do you want it?”
She tips her head to the side and stares upward like the answer to my question is flying somewhere in the rafters. When her chin finally levels, she looks me right in the eyes and answers, “I think I do.”
“You won’t miss working at Rosemary’s?”
“I like it there well enough, but there’s no challenge to handing out coffee and muffins.”
“And you’re looking for a challenge?”
Allie inhales slowly before releasing her breath with equal care. “I think I might be.” Taking turns kicking her tennis shoes out in front of her, she adds, “I’ve never been one to run from a challenge, even though life has dished out some pretty harsh ones lately.”
“Your husband?”
“Him, and well … others.”
I know this is said as a matter of fact and not an invitation to question her.
I don’t know Allie well enough to intrude on her personal struggles, but I do know one thing.
I’d like to get to know her a lot better, and that’s something that will certainly be possible if she’s teaching at the same school I am.