Airball

November 4, 2019.

The next morning, I woke up to the familiar sound of the alarm on my phone. I picked up my phone to check the time. 7:15. Monday. Perfect.

There were also several notifications waiting on my phone. A couple Snapchats I would forget to open, some new Twitter posts from Donald Trump (surprise), and a text from the school. I opened the text.

Tryouts for the basketball team are Monday of next week, after school. Sign up now in the main office.

Eric Hendrix – Basketball Coach

South Miami High School

I groaned. Tryouts were in a week. That meant I really would have to make up my mind soon. I had already said that I wouldn be trying out, but it was more of me trying to convince myself to give the sport up than actually making a decision. I checked my stepmoms room, saw that she was still asleep, and walked downstairs to get lunch together for me and Liv.

I threw together sandwiches, strawberries, and bags of chips into Livs pink lunchbox and the brown paper bag I use to carry my lunch. Ive never used a lunchbox since it was easier to just throw everything away and I knew Id never be able to keep up with it.

After the lunches were finished, I ate breakfast and let my dog, a small pug named Otis, out to eat his own breakfast. When he was done, I let him back inside out of the cold to roam around the house until my dad woke up and forced him to go out again.

Then I went back upstairs and checked Livs room to make sure she was awake enough to have time to get ready before her bus arrived. Her light was already on, so I figured she would have enough time to make the bus. Then I got ready myself, slung my backpack around my shoulder, and headed out of the house.

And thats my normal morning.

I opened my Beats Solo Pro and paired them with my phone. Then I fit them on my head and started my daily jog to school.

And, no. My dad doesn know that I jog to school everyday. As youve probably figured out, theres a lot of things I do that he doesn know about. Its not because Im a bad kid or anything, and its not like Im hiding anything from him. Its just that I really don think he would care. So why would I tell him? Is that wrong? My dad thinks I signed up to take the bus, if he even thinks about how I get to school at all.

I like the exercise every morning. I like how it feels to run against the cool air. Maybe I should be on the track team.

When I got to school, I returned my Beats to its case and walked over to the regular meeting spot behind the school, where Cam and Nathan were waiting for me. I walked over to them and Cam and I did our complex handshake. I couldn explain it to you, you wouldn get it. Its our thing. After Cam and I are done, Nathan and I did our handshake. I could explain that one to you, but I don feel like it. Again, its our thing.

”Wheres Max and Austin? ” I asked.

Cam shrugged. ”Not here yet. ”

Cam was the small forward and one of my best friends on the basketball team last year.

”Yo, you get the text about tryouts this morning? ”

Nathan was another one of my friends from the basketball team. He played shooting guard, small forward, and backup point guard.

”Yeah, ” I told Nathan. ”Next week. ”

”You ready? ” asked Cam.

I didn answer. I just smiled and nodded, trying to figure out a way to tell them that I wouldn be trying out. So I was relieved when Max walked up, followed by Austin and two girls. The girls—Taylor and Teagan—I knew from middle school. They hung out a lot with us back then, but they mostly hung with their new girl friends nowadays. They parted ways with Max and Austin when they spotting some people they knew across the campus.

”Sup, ” Max said, clapping everyone on the back. ”You guys ready for tryouts? ”

”You bet, ” said Cam.

”Sure am, ” Nathan said.

”Yep… ” I said awkwardly.

Thankfully, the bell chose that moment to ring, and I was able to separate myself from my friends during all the commotion.

I decided to walk a different way to class since I usually walk with my old basketball teammates and I knew any conversation we would have would be about tryouts. I didn feel like putting myself through that.

So I took another staircase to the second floor and walked into math class, taking my seat. A minute or two later, Austin sat down beside me.

”Whered you go? ” he asked. ”You know how awkward it is when I hang out with your athletic friends alone. ”

”Sorry, ” I said. ”I didn feel like talking about tryouts. ”

At least I could be honest with Austin.

”Blake, you should tell them, ” Austin frowned. ”I mean, they deserve to know. ”

I shrugged. ”Does it matter? They would just try to talk me out of it, and its my decision. ”

”It is your decision, ” Austin said. ”But they need to know. They
e planning their whole year, and maybe more, around someone whos not planning to be there. ”

I was about to say something back, probably something about there being a lot of good players on the high school team, but I was interrupted by the teacher starting class. So I just shrugged to Austin and turned my attention to math class.

I didn mind math class. It had always come easy to me. I usually complete my math homework without much trouble and pretty much always get good grades on tests. The only thing is that the class is slow. So I find myself drowning out the sound of the polynomial lesson and becoming engrossed in my own thoughts.

I imagined myself playing for the South Miami Cobras. I imagine myself dribbling up the court in an orange Cobras jersey, enjoying the feeling of the ball in my hand as the audience examines my every move.

When I was at South Miami Middle, I used to go to high school games every now and then. The team was never too good, but it gave me a good look at future competition. I used to admire the high school players orange Cobras jerseys and compare them to my own South Miami Middle green Wildcats jersey. I remember the spot on the bleachers where Luke and I would strategize and try to pick up on some high school plays. Luke had been the teammate I had relied on the most, and had been one of my three best friends in middle school, along with Cam and Austin, though Austin never wanted to hang out with me, Cam, and Luke when we were together. I guess it was too many basketball players in one room. He would hate the locker room.

Things changed, though. On the last day of 8th grade, he had announced that he would be going to Southridge instead of South Miami for high school. I had been shocked. Luke had toured South Miami High with us and had even signed up to attend the school with us. He had convinced me, Cam, Nathan, and Max that us five would stick together and one day be the starting five on the South Miami high school basketball team. I mean sure, our championship earning middle school basketball team had gone our separate ways for high school, but I had been sure that me and Luke and the others would stick together through high school and maybe even through college. We had made plans to, by senior year and maybe even by junior year, be the starting five on the Cobras Varsity team, all from South Miami Middle.

So when Luke told us he was set on Southridge, I had felt betrayed, as had my friends. Southridge was also located in Miami, Florida, and served as South Miamis basketball rival. Looking back, I can see why he chose Southridge. Southridges basketball program was legendary, and gained championships and sent players off to college teams and later even NBA teams every year. He was doing what was best for himself, but it had ruined his friendship with me and the others. I didn text him to come hang out with me and Cam and the others and he didn text me and the others to ask us. I realized I haven even seen him since the last day of 8th grade.

My thoughts were interrupted by a girl that sits next to me—I think her name is Isabella—tapping me on the arm. I looked up at her and she tilted her head at the teacher. I realized that I had been called upon.

”Maam? ” I said.

”Blake, please tell me what I would get if I multiplied x plus two with x minus five, ” the math teacher, Ms. Davis asked me, obviously seeing that I wasn paying any attention.

”X squared minus three x minus ten, ” I said immediately, in a bored, monotone voice.

”Correct! ” Ms. Davis said in surprise, my lack of attention now forgiven. ”I just don understand how you do that, Blake. You pay my lessons absolutely no attention and still manage to get the answer right in your head within a second without so much as a thought. ”

”I meant no disrespect, maam, ” I said. ”I was just thinking. ”

Ms. Davis nodded slowly. ”Well, just promise me this. If we ever cover a topic with problems that stump you, youll start paying attention to my lesson. ”

I nodded and she went back to her lesson while I went back to my thoughts. She was a cool teacher.

An hour later, the bell rang and I was saved from my boredom for ten minutes until my next class starts. The morning announcements came through the intercom and I ignored them the best I could, especially when the information about basketball tryouts came on. I pushed the thought of tryouts and basketball out of my head as I made my way to class.

I headed to biology and sat next to Cam, as I always do. I did my best during the class to keep the topic off basketball. This is pretty easy with Cam, since me and him can have a full conversation about literally any topic. So we talk about how it would be impossible for Cinderellas slipper to fall off if it really had fit perfectly. After biology was lunch. Instead of going to the cafeteria, though, I decided to stay behind for ”biology tutoring ”. The tutoring never helped me at all, but at least I was away from everyone else. Lunch would just be a period full of talk about basketball tryouts. So basically my worst nightmare at this point.

The next period was English. Not talking about basketball in English is harder though, since Nathan and Max are in my class, and all they want to do is talk about tryouts. So I end up telling them that Im feeling sick and don really want to talk. A few fake coughs later, they believed me and agreed to leave me to my sickness.

My last period was my elective class, art. I was originally going to take weight training or some other fitness class, but after breaking my arm, I switched to the only decent-sounding elective that wasn filled up—art. I hate drawing, and Im really bad at it, so I mostly just doodle in my sketchbook and occasionally draw whatever the topic is that we
e supposed to draw. I never listen to the teachers lessons on how to improve drawing, since I have no intention of improving. I make okay grades in the class, and so it isn that bad. I don know anybody in the class, though, which is a relief. Usually that would be a disappointment, and it was on the first day of school, but today I just don think I could bear to hear more about tryouts.

The decision I have to make is engraved in my brain, and I can get it out no matter how hard I try. Part of me wants to just tell my friends that I won be trying out, but I don want to disappoint them. I wish basketball season would just be cancelled, so I wouldn have to ever even make the decision. I knew I had to tell my friends that I might not be trying out sooner or later, but so far Ive just kept choosing later. But thats the problem. ”Later ” will be here eventually, and I have a feeling that itll come sooner than I want it to.