Xavier
Dean August just finished tearing our ears apart, and the game began.
I sat on the bench watching the hyped crowd from not only TSU, but also John Stanley University.
The vibe was different. Normally, I would be as hyped as everyone else, but being hurt and unable to play, I wasn’t feeling it. “Zoo!” I heard someone call out.
When I turned around, I spotted Beans coming up the aisles a few rows up.
Along with him were Paige, Alyse, Samara, and Phoebe.
I gave him a quick nod before focusing on Phoebe.
She didn’t really look at me, but looked more afraid, as if she was out of place.
Seeing her with the Zoo girls was nice, giving me a sample of what the what-ifs looked like.
Beans kissed Paige before walking off to join his bruhs and whatever shenanigans they were up to.
I turned back toward the game to the shooting guard driving the ball up the court. “Nigga pass the ball!” I shouted.
They had him blocked in, and if he didn’t shake and move, their asses, it was a wrap. The coach paced back and forth in front of me while focusing on him. “He needs to shoot the ball! That’s why I need to be out there!” I shouted.
The coach’s head snapped my way, and just as he did that, one of the players from John Stanley stole the ball.
I tossed my hands in the air in frustration.
It was the torture of watching people you knew didn’t have the drive or game fuck it up.
The coach called a timeout and brought everyone together.
When the shooting guard came over, he looked at me.
“Nigga you suck. When they lock you in like that, you’ve got to shake or shoot. Or that shit is going to happen every time.”
“Xavier, this is not your call, it’s mine,” the coach spat.
I didn’t understand. I knew the game and who could play and who couldn’t.
The coach went on sending his ass back out there.
I watched play after play being treated like they didn’t care about the game.
I had gotten so frustrated that I stood up, pacing in my boot, screaming at these corny niggas.
I had gone from yelling to shoving chairs out of the way.
The assistant coach pulled at the back of my shirt. “Sit down.”
I turned to walk back to my seat when Phoebe finally looked at me. A pretty grin landed on her face. I almost got lost in it when I heard the crowd go crazy. I quickly turned to look to see that very same shooting guard hit a crazy ass half-court shot.
The coach turned to look at me. “My team, not yours.”
That fucked me up because in the end, did the team really need me?