Eleven #2
The Lions set up and the ref whistled the ball live.
The tall Lion guard burst into action and we couldn’t hold her.
She went up for a three point but our wing got in her face and she dropped down without taking the shot.
Instead, she bounce-passed the ball to the center who feinted right and broke left.
Rising up for the layup our shorter wing tried to block the shot but caught the Lion’s wrist. The slap of skin echoed across the gym a moment before the buzzer sounded.
The ball, already in flight, bounced off the bottom of the backboard, and the ref blew the whistle, calling a foul. Two points to send us to overtime.
Kathy returned her hand to my left knee, reaching over Cami.
My right knee hurt and my butt was on fire.
I wanted to stand and shake out the cramp, but I didn’t dare move.
Sometimes when you watch a game, especially when you’re there live, the collected tension and hopes and dreams of the crowd becomes a real thing.
As if dreaming and hoping together can make the thing real even though we will never touch the ball.
I didn’t want to wake from that dream, or disturb anyone else because the loss of one of us might make the difference, might mean there was not enough of whatever we were trying to collectively conjure.
So, I turned the liquid flame trickling down my leg inward and back out onto the court with my hope.
The Lion’s center sighed and bounced the ball trying to shake away the tension we were pouring over her. Bounce, sigh, bounce sigh, set the feet, ball up, head up, and shoot. The basketball left her fingers with careful spin and fell straight through the net with a soft swish.
I almost choked on my groan. One more point and it was overtime. But that was defeatist talk, it sapped the dream we were willing into existence. Squashing that thought I focused on the single point we needed to win. People missed free throws all the time.
The center shrugged her shoulders as if throwing off her uncertainty, the success of her basket shielding her from our hopes and dreams. Bounce, bounce, set the feet, ball up, head up, shoot.
Her feet squeaked as the ball left her hands in an arch.
The ball hung in the air before it came down clipping the back of the rim and bouncing up and out.
I read the inaudible curse on the shooter’s lips as the crowd roared. Joining everyone as they rose, I grabbed Kathy’s shoulder so I wouldn’t fall, all the strength pouring out of my leg along with the liquid fire as I could finally straighten it. “They did it,” I cried.
“One more and they will end with a winning season,” Kathy playfully grinned at me.
Instinctively I ducked, dodging the imagined hand I expected to reach out and ruffle my hair.
But with our height difference my older sister couldn’t do that anymore which just made me look foolish.
Below us the crowd melted off the bleachers and down onto the court.
When the press thinned, we followed everyone down.
Jackie was celebrating with her teammates when we found her.
Kathy hugged her in congratulations and was enveloped in the circle.
On the far side of the huddle Rilee laughed at something her Hispanic co-coach said and dipped her head so the shorter woman could hear her response.
The motion revealed a small curve along Rilee’s neck at the edge of her collar bone, a small depression that I suddenly wanted to kiss.
Jackie’s arm slipping into the crook of my elbow startled me and I sucked my lips back before anyone could read the desire on my face.
My niece said something I didn’t hear as Rilee looked up and saw me.
Her eyes sparked and then hardened in a blink and she turned away to the other coach.
“Uh what?” I stuttered trying to keep off my face the flush of heat rushing through me as I tried to understand the message in Rilee’s eyes.
“My team wanted to name you MVP but Coach Velazques said no, since you weren’t a player,” Jackie repeated.
“What?” I didn’t understand.
“You shamed that ref into calling the foul. Without that foul shot we would be in overtime right now.” Jackie tugged at me as she followed Kathy toward the gym exit.
“That ref was slaughtering us and you put him in his place. Best play of the game. MVP.” She squeezed my arm as we walked.
I tried to keep up, leaning a bit more on her than I meant to.
On the way home I squeezed into the backseat with Cami and Darren while Jackie and Kathy dissected the game.
Only half listening so I could make noises at appropriate times I couldn’t calm the storm in my head.
Why on earth did I stick myself out like that?
Sure, the ref was being unfair but no ref is perfect.
That’s part of the game. And you can’t win everything.
Why did Rilee not even want to look at me?
Was she ashamed that the team won because I’d bullied the ref into the game winning call, that they didn’t do it on their own merits?
At home Lukas slapped me on the back when Jackie retold the story. Even Darren said, “Way to go Uncle Craig.” Despite the congratulations for just raising my voice all I could see was Rilee turning away.
Smiling as expected, I congratulated Jackie, who actually played the game, and turned in, pleading my back, which was killing me. School bleachers were not built for comfort, even when you can lean against the back wall.
I stared at the ceiling unable to fall asleep but too stubborn to get back up.
If Rilee wouldn’t even look at me, the class this Saturday was going to be a disaster.
I thought we’d had a good time together.
While I needed the CPR certification, I’d sort of hoped the class would be fun with her there.
But I needed a job. That’s why I was really in the class.
I didn’t need a girlfriend. Thinking of Rilee as a girlfriend was a colossal leap.
We’d just been out for drinks, not even a proper date.
Rilee was no one’s girlfriend and I wasn’t looking for one. Veronica left me on the couch with oozing staples in my back and a lease I couldn’t pay. I didn’t need that again. Somewhere between the now nauseating smell of Veronica’s perfume and the taste of lavender icing I fell asleep.
Blinking the bright lights out of my eyes I still tasted lavender.
A piece of steak was in my mouth, wet with a flowery sauce.
The shadows of the trees were wrong, they lay in different directions and were washed out as a beam of sunshine in the middle followed a cow prancing upright on two legs.
Turning my gaze away from the spectacle, Rilee smiled at me, the wash of the lights revealing that same delicate hollow along her collar bone, the one my lips ached to touch.
Someone chased the dancing cow but I could only see it out of the corner of my vision because I only had eyes for Rilee.
I spent hours ignoring that cow because I couldn’t look away from the woman who wouldn’t look at me.