I was so excited. It was 7 pm, and in an hour we would be playing a match on the basketball court. I got dressed in my black leggings and a maroon cropped t shirt. I gathered my hair up into a ponytail, but then left it loose. I always played better with my hair free.
I pulled on my favorite pink and black socks, and laced up my running shoes. I looked into the mirror, and a confident girl stared back at me. I smiled. I had even thought of his punishment. I would make him run five laps of the park every morning at six am for a week. That should wipe the grin off his face. Hah.
I walked outside. It was already dark, one of those odd days where the sun sets at seven. I glanced at my phone. It was five to eight. I made my way to the court, where I had last stepped four years ago.
I opened the iron gate. It still creaked. I immediately recognized the same equipment- the same pole, the same basket, the same faded markings on the red court. There was no one in there, as I already had suspected. I dribbled my ball a couple times to get the feel of it, and then took a shot. It dropped clean through the basket. I grinned, almost able to taste my victory.
Suddenly, in the low hum of the evening, I heard the sound of another basketball behind me. I turned to look straight into his eyes. My heart skipped a beat. He grinned.
"Ready?" in his husky voice.
"Yes." I replied, not averting my gaze.
I felt as if the occasion demanded a drumroll. I threw my ball away, and it rolled to the far corner of the court. We played a game of rock paper scissors to see who would start. I won. We decided to play a ten-point game.
I stood at the three-pointer line, and bounced the ball to him. He caught it deftly, and bounced it back to me. The game was on.
. . . . . . . . .
I dribbled the ball for a good twenty seconds, trying to get past him. Although I was a fast runner, he was agile. He stopped every move I tried to make, and nothing worked on him.
"When did you become an Olympic runner?" he asked, grinning.
"Ever since you became a tortoise" I retorted, chuckling.
Suddenly, a dog barked from afar. He was startled at the sudden noise, and in a moment of weakness looked behind him. I seized the opportunity, and ran with the ball towards the basket. He realized what I was doing, and tore after me. But it was too late. With a magnificent lay-up shot, I managed to get the ball into the basket from behind the two-pointer line. I smiled.
"Two-zero to me!" I yelled in happiness.
"I'll get you this time," he said, his expression more determined. But it seemed his luck was out, for this time too, he wasn't so quick, and I managed a three point over his head.
"Oh my god." he muttered under his breath.
"Yeah. Five-zero." I said, my smile getting wider.
I got the ball again, and started to run, but he was on his defense. For some reason, the ball suddenly slipped from my hands. I dashed wildly, but he was there first, and got the ball. He ran outside the three-pointer. I was annoyed, and started to run after him. When we were face to face, he suddenly darted to the right, and I went with him. As quick as lighting, he took a step backward, and shot over my head straight from the five-pointer. I sighed. It would be a rare shot. I turned around, and to my horror, the ball dropped neatly through the net, and he walked calmly towards it.
"Five-five." He smiled infuriatingly.
I gritted my teeth. One more five pointer, and he would win. I couldn't bear the embarrassment. On the other hand, one more five pointer, and I could win. He would be the one to bear the embarrassment. I decided to play more aggressively.
He dribbled in place a couple times, and then shot off towards the basket. I frantically raced after him, and as soon as I caught up, he jumped with the ball. I tapped the ball hard, forgetting the rules for a moment. The ball fell from his grip, and he turned and grinned.
"Foul. Two penalty three-pointers to me."
I sulked, saying nothing. Why did I have to be so stupid? If he got them both, he would win!
I stood to the side, while he took his position. He bounced the ball a couple times, and then took aim. I watched with bated breath as the ball flew in a precise straight line, and then to my disappointment, dropped cleanly through the basket. He shot another grin in my direction, and I sarcastically smiled back.
"One more shot, and I get to make you do anything," he smirked.
I turned away, praying hard that his shot wouldn't go in. I don't think I'd ever wanted anything so bad as I wanted him to lose the point. I shut my eyes, and mumbled a silent prayer, hoping he wouldn't be successful. I turned, a bit more satisfied, and I couldn't believe it- or didn't want to- as his ball dropped silently through the net again, making a loud thud on the ground.
YOU ARE READING
My Childhood Friend
RomanceWhen we are children, we are innocent and sweet. But what happens when your childhood male buddy starts acting strange when you are teens? What do you do when he suddenly turns all grown-up and starts to have feelings for you? Delve into the innocen...