Lauren’s smug grin from a few feet
away and snapped. “So, instead of having them step it up and actually catch a
decent pass, you want me to stoop down to their level and play like a girl?”
She didn’t care about keeping her voice down. It wasn’t like their lack of
talent was a secret. “In case you missed it, at the level we’re playing, we’re
going to get slaughtered in every game we play this year.”
Coach
winced at Emma’s bluntness, but Emma didn’t care. The woman needed to know the
truth. Emma hadn’t signed up for this girl-infested team with a goal to carry
out the losing tradition. What would be the point?
Coach
held up her hands, trying to calm Emma down. “I know. I don’t like it any
better than you do, but we’re in a rebuilding year. What we need to do is take
the team where it’s at.”
“A
rebuilding year,” Emma repeated. “In other words that will be our excuse for
playing bad and losing, is that it?”
Coach
didn’t respond. Her eyebrows pinched together, and her eyes voiced a wordless
apology.
Emma
threw her hands in the air and took a step back. Apology not accepted. “Sorry,
Coach. I can’t play that way. Come find me when you’re ready to play some real
basketball.” She walked out of the gym, feeling the stares on her back as she
pushed through the door and slipped into the night without looking back.
***
In
no mood to go home, Emma found herself at the neighborhood court staring at the
hoop from the free-throw line, looking for answers about what to do next. With
no ball, and only the moonlight to accompany her, she couldn’t even play away
her frustrations.
Stupid
girls’ basketball team. She should’ve known playing with them wouldn’t work.
Unqualified coach, stuck-up girls, and a losing mentality—not something
she wanted to be a part of. She’d made her decision to sever ties with the
girls team as soon as she walked out of the gym—she was set on her
decision—so why did it feel like she’d walked out on more than a
worthless team?
She
could act tough with Riley, she could lie to Coach, she could ignore just about
anyone, but now, with no witnesses, Emma couldn’t escape the truth. Was it
wrong if a small part of her wanted it? To be part of a real team, to wear a
real uniform, to play in a real game and feel like she belonged? Riley had said
she wouldn’t get a scholarship to play on a boys’ basketball team, so would it
be so horrible to get a scholarship to play on a, gulp , girls team? Would she even have a
shot at the whole college thing? Was she delusional to think her future could
possibly hold something other than living at home and working a dead-end job?
She knew better than to let her thoughts drift in alignment with Riley’s,
knowing it would only set her up for disappointment, but she couldn’t help it.
A part of her wished and dreamed for the impossible, but it didn’t matter.
She’d just walked out on any chance she’d have to know.
Emma
sighed. The team would be better off without her anyway. Less team conflicts,
less injuries. They’d probably throw a party now that she was gone.
She
sat cross-legged on the free-throw line, trying not to notice how the darkness
crept closer. It always crept closer. Over the years, she had spent too many
nights trying to ward off the darkness as she waited in vain for her mom to
come home, listened to her dad and brothers fight, and tried to understand why
bad things always happened to her. Even now, she couldn’t manage to keep the
darkness—the guilt, the resentment, the unsettling truth—away. She
should have been relieved to finally be done with the girls and the team, so
why did her body tense and her teeth clench together at the thought of Coach’s
this-is-a-rebuilding-year speech?
Before
she could formulate an answer, headlights ripped through the darkness and
illuminated her before going black. She heard a car engine cut off, a door open
and close, and the shuffle of footsteps
away and snapped. “So, instead of having them step it up and actually catch a
decent pass, you want me to stoop down to their level and play like a girl?”
She didn’t care about keeping her voice down. It wasn’t like their lack of
talent was a secret. “In case you missed it, at the level we’re playing, we’re
going to get slaughtered in every game we play this year.”
Coach
winced at Emma’s bluntness, but Emma didn’t care. The woman needed to know the
truth. Emma hadn’t signed up for this girl-infested team with a goal to carry
out the losing tradition. What would be the point?
Coach
held up her hands, trying to calm Emma down. “I know. I don’t like it any
better than you do, but we’re in a rebuilding year. What we need to do is take
the team where it’s at.”
“A
rebuilding year,” Emma repeated. “In other words that will be our excuse for
playing bad and losing, is that it?”
Coach
didn’t respond. Her eyebrows pinched together, and her eyes voiced a wordless
apology.
Emma
threw her hands in the air and took a step back. Apology not accepted. “Sorry,
Coach. I can’t play that way. Come find me when you’re ready to play some real
basketball.” She walked out of the gym, feeling the stares on her back as she
pushed through the door and slipped into the night without looking back.
***
In
no mood to go home, Emma found herself at the neighborhood court staring at the
hoop from the free-throw line, looking for answers about what to do next. With
no ball, and only the moonlight to accompany her, she couldn’t even play away
her frustrations.
Stupid
girls’ basketball team. She should’ve known playing with them wouldn’t work.
Unqualified coach, stuck-up girls, and a losing mentality—not something
she wanted to be a part of. She’d made her decision to sever ties with the
girls team as soon as she walked out of the gym—she was set on her
decision—so why did it feel like she’d walked out on more than a
worthless team?
She
could act tough with Riley, she could lie to Coach, she could ignore just about
anyone, but now, with no witnesses, Emma couldn’t escape the truth. Was it
wrong if a small part of her wanted it? To be part of a real team, to wear a
real uniform, to play in a real game and feel like she belonged? Riley had said
she wouldn’t get a scholarship to play on a boys’ basketball team, so would it
be so horrible to get a scholarship to play on a, gulp , girls team? Would she even have a
shot at the whole college thing? Was she delusional to think her future could
possibly hold something other than living at home and working a dead-end job?
She knew better than to let her thoughts drift in alignment with Riley’s,
knowing it would only set her up for disappointment, but she couldn’t help it.
A part of her wished and dreamed for the impossible, but it didn’t matter.
She’d just walked out on any chance she’d have to know.
Emma
sighed. The team would be better off without her anyway. Less team conflicts,
less injuries. They’d probably throw a party now that she was gone.
She
sat cross-legged on the free-throw line, trying not to notice how the darkness
crept closer. It always crept closer. Over the years, she had spent too many
nights trying to ward off the darkness as she waited in vain for her mom to
come home, listened to her dad and brothers fight, and tried to understand why
bad things always happened to her. Even now, she couldn’t manage to keep the
darkness—the guilt, the resentment, the unsettling truth—away. She
should have been relieved to finally be done with the girls and the team, so
why did her body tense and her teeth clench together at the thought of Coach’s
this-is-a-rebuilding-year speech?
Before
she could formulate an answer, headlights ripped through the darkness and
illuminated her before going black. She heard a car engine cut off, a door open
and close, and the shuffle of footsteps
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