Chapter Seven
GJ
I’d always hated being told what to do, but it was hard not to listen to Theo when she recommended something.
Regardless of whether Theo was the one offering the advice or not, I knew I had to follow it.
Even I wasn’t too proud to do that—it’d just taken me some time to get there.
And a few really shitty games. The Coyotes were holding on as one of the few undefeated teams, but I’d had consistently bad stats.
Admittedly, I was only out here doing this because it was a last resort. I was tired of still playing like garbage. But that was neither here nor there.
I dribbled the ball, the texture familiar under my fingertips. Playing felt like home; it always had, but it was tinged with something else now. I used to love an excuse to get out here and play a pickup game, but now, all I felt was a sense of dread.
I was the only person at the outdoor court.
It made sense—it was early in the morning, and I was a decent walk off campus, tucked deep into a surrounding neighborhood.
None of the families were awake yet, too early for even the buses to be doing pickup.
Theo and I had found this place together and would come up with every possible excuse to get out here when we could.
It was like we physically couldn’t get enough time on a court.
It’d always felt good to let loose—practice and games were intentionally structured and high-pressure.
Playing out here felt like taking a deep breath comparatively.
Or at least, it used to. I hadn’t been out here since the summer, when I would play with the other Coyotes who were still on campus.
I shivered as cold fall air blew over me. That was a bad sign—it meant that I hadn’t been playing for long enough to start sweating.
The sun was comforting, and the sky was a bright cloudless blue, but even so, November in Colorado always hit like a kick to the chest. I was used to the cold at this point, but I preferred the heat.
I’d always liked humidity, unforgiving sun.
Part of the reason I gravitated toward basketball growing up was that it was an escape from how miserable and gray winter could be.
I took a deep breath. Focus.
My fingers were numb, and my cheeks stung as I looked up at the metal rim in front of me.
Maybe this was a waste of time. I knew why I was out here, but I didn’t know why I was bothering with actually doing it. I could just wait until practice later or get all of my nervous energy out during weight training.
But no—the issue was playing. And running from it was only going to make it worse. I didn’t need Dr. Leicht to know that was true.
I bounced the ball against the blacktop, my breath a visible puff of moisture in front of me.
I hadn’t told any of the girls on the team I’d be out here this morning.
Normally, we all liked to play together, even if it was just a one-on-one.
But as much as I wanted to think this was stupid, Theo was right that I needed to get out of my head.
And the easiest way of doing that was forcing myself to be alone with the game that I loved, even though I’d just spent weeks intentionally avoiding it.
I didn’t like it, but I knew I had to do it.
Don’t think about it. Shoot the ball in three…two…one.
I tossed the ball up in an easy jump shot. It arched beautifully through the air and slipped through the rim effortlessly, exactly like it was supposed to. Exactly like I’d been training to do for the majority of my life.
It felt good, but it didn’t shake the feeling that had settled in my stomach.
Shooting out here all by myself was infinitely easier than shooting during a game.
I had people trying to block my shot, the roar of a crowd, the pressure of having to think and move quickly.
But even so, I found it hard to forgive myself for not making shots when I had the chance.
I chased the ball and shot it from where I was standing, not allowing myself the time to position myself or think about what I was doing. It was the closest I could get to imitating real gameplay while I was alone. I had to give instinct an opportunity to take over.
I did it again and again and again, intentionally shooting in ways that would force me to run for the ball.
After taking a beat to rip my sweatshirt over my head and toss it to the side, I grabbed the ball from under my foot and bounced it a few more times. The only thing I liked about Colorado winters specifically was how the sun felt almost like summer sun—warm, comforting, familiar.
I tossed the ball up again, watching as it bounced on the rim and then went in. I kept going, making all of the shots smoothly and, most vitally, without being stuck in my fucking head.
It didn’t make sense to me why game day had to feel different than just playing out here alone.
I understood the basic psychology of it—there was pressure during a game, an audience, and other people intentionally doing everything they could to stop me.
But that didn’t mean it had to feel different.
My brain was betraying me by making me feel that way.
As I practiced my shooting, I ran through the most recent game in my head.
I’d always been shit when it came to school—mostly because I’d never given much of a fuck whether I had an A or a C as long as I passed—but my brain power kicked into overdrive when it came to basketball.
I remembered every breath, every step. I knew where everyone was on the court at any point and could recall the game back with scary accuracy even weeks later.
To me, it was what it meant to be the point guard. I was the playmaker—my entire job was knowing how to move the ball down the court. In order to do that, I couldn’t miss a single detail. All it took was me missing one person to give up a turnover and points in the process.
But remembering everything included remembering every single mistake. And while I could be a dick when I wanted to be when another player on my team did something stupid, I mostly fixated on my own missteps.
I ran through my own moves, trying to rewrite history in my own way.
Now with the ability to think about things in retrospect, I played smarter.
I didn’t give balls up because I knew where the player guarding me was moving, and I didn’t misstep and send a ball to someone too heavily guarded to catch it.
In this version of the game, Coach Darlene didn’t take me out. In this one, Anna barely had a chance to play at all because I was doing so well.
After playing through a sped-up version of the game, I took a breather to drink some water and check my phone. The knot in my chest had loosened and, annoyingly, I did actually feel better. I pulled up my text chain with Theo and shot her a quick text.
GJ
Your plan to get me on the court worked but if you tell anyone I did something you recommended, I’m suing for slander
To my surprise, Theo responded almost immediately. Since Theo didn’t know how to take a day off, I must’ve caught her in between the things she had on her calendar for the day.
Theo
I’ll take the wins where I can get them. We’ll work on getting you to the team therapist next.
GJ
Hilarious. I’d sooner go on a date with Mags.
Theo
That’s one way to make her sister jealous
My cheeks went hot with embarrassment at remembering what I’d disclosed to Theo. Since I’d only had about half a beer at the point I told her about Leah, I had to chalk it up to sheer stupidity. I was just glad only Theo knew; if there was anyone who was impressively tight-lipped, it was her.
But anyone at all knowing felt so…vulnerable.
Leah and I had hooked up once. I barely knew anything about her.
It’d just been one fun, ridiculous night of flirting and having sex and then going our separate ways.
And on top of that, there’d been time between us hooking up now.
I’d gone to away games and seen her cheering on the sidelines, neither of us giving each other a look even in passing.
But part of me knew that it meant something that I’d noticed us not noticing each other.
It was all so annoying. Weeks had passed, and I was not only still consistently playing like shit, but I couldn’t seem to shake this one random girl.
It was like the more time passed between us, the more I found myself thinking about her. It’d just been one stupid night. But it’d gotten completely blown up in my head to be something special.
I couldn’t believe I’d suddenly been turned into the kind of person who had a ridiculous crush with barely anything at all to work with.
There were girls out there who’d been shooting their shot with me for years and had never gotten anything in return.
And now, suddenly, I was the one with feelings? It didn’t make any sense.
I rolled out my shoulders. It had to be connected to playing like shit somehow. It made sense—I was in a shooting slump for the first time ever in my life, and now I was down bad for some girl. Probably for validation or some shit. I was sure any therapist would back me up on that.
I was about to put my phone down when it vibrated again. Expecting it to be Theo, I went to my messages immediately. But my heart went into double time when I quickly realized that it was, in fact, not Theo texting me but instead a social media DM notification.
It was like she’d known I’d been thinking about her. After a few weeks of not talking to each other and not even looking at each other at games, Leah was suddenly messaging me out of the blue.
Leah
This is embarrassing but we never exchanged numbers so this is the best I can come up with
I’m bored at a party and I want you to come get me