Chapter I
Apollo
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I hissed, looking at the line of people crowded around the entrance to the gym. “Why the hell are so many people here, MJ? Must be something in those cookies they handed out. No one comes to our games.”
He shrugged. “I’m not gonna lie man, they ain’t here for us. They’re here for the girls.”
“What alumni is sponsoring this shit?” I punched in the code to the locker room. “Do they have a fetish or something?”
MJ laughed as he kicked the door shut behind him. “Don’t ask me man. This school will do anything for a bag.”
“But hey,” I said. “You better be locked in. If Coach Ram catches us getting torched by the girls, we have no chance.”
MJ slumped his bag in the locker, cranking up the speaker. “Oh you shouldn’t be worrying about me when you’re the one who asked to guard Anna Green.”
My jaw tightened. “Shoot! I totally forgot about that.”
“What man?” MJ smirked. “Regretting that decision to have some ‘one on one’ time with her?”
“It’s not about that!” I yelled as Tony suddenly tossed the door open to the locker room and held it open for Fred.
“Yo bro you need to chill already.” he said, throwing the door open for someone else behind him. “You brought this on yourself with this little crush you got going on.”
I groaned. “Just because I am inspired to be like someone doesn’t mean I like them. Besides, I want to guard her to prove myself to Coach Ram,”
“Ram doesn’t give a damn about our scrimmage.” MJ said.
“Yeah he’s off with the varsity at some warehouse.” Grasson said as he pulled up a chair. “I heard they just keep running until they puke. Like deadass, you don’t leave until you vomit. That’s what Weaver told me.”
“Brad Weaver can cry me a damn river.” Tony spat into the trash can. “That boy just sits in the corner and jacks up threes.”
“At least he makes them.” I grinned. “He should be down here with us.”
MJ raised his hands. “His mom is divorced and–”
“Turn that music off!” The door slammed and we all went silent.
“Well there’s Pitt.”
Pitt crossed towards the center of the room, arms folded across his chest. “Where’s the rest of the team?”
I looked over at MJ and we all shrugged.
“I don’t blame’em for skipping this crapshot.” I whispered to myself. “More reps for me.”
“What did you say?” Coach Pitt stormed up until his shadow swallowed me. His voice cracked like a whip. “You think this is just some scrimmage, eh?”
I stood up. “No sir! I–”
He cut me off with a hand in my face. He wasn’t listening. “Sit down, Price. I want you to know that this game is not just for you to hit on Anna Green”
The locker room snickered as I could feel my cheeks burn. “God damn it I can’t even say anything now.”
I clenched my fists, but Pitt was already pacing the room like we were about to storm Normandy.
“This game is for our pride,” he barked. “It’s for the school, for the program. You think the booster club set this up so you can mess around? You’re stepping onto that court representing every player who’s ever worn this jersey.”
He paused, glaring straight at me.
“Don’t screw it up, Price.”
The room went dead silent with MJ’s speaker buzzing faintly until Pitt yanked the cord out of the wall.
“Ten minutes,” he said. “I want shoes laced and jerseys tucked in for the love of God.”
The door slammed behind him.
The second he was gone, the whole room erupted in snickers.
“Damn, Price,” Tony said, grinning wide. “Coach really thinks you’re writing love letters to Anna Green. Are you?”
“Shut up,” I muttered, tying my shoes so tight they molded around my foot.
MJ leaned back against the lockers, smirking as he put away his speaker. “Hey, look on the bright side. If she drops thirty on you, you might still get her phone number out of pity.”
I buried my head in my jersey and groaned. This night was already a disaster, and we hadn’t even stepped on the court yet. “Thanks MJ.”
***
Anna Green
The gym floor felt frictionless under my sneakers as I jogged to half-court, ball bouncing in rhythm with my stride. The crowd was loud, way louder than a fundraiser scrimmage deserved, but I blocked it out.
I dished the ball out to the corner and sprinted to the wing. I caught a pass from Coach Gina and I swished a three.
I met Jasmine back at the top of the key. “The JV boys are lined up in their little huddle,” she said, spinning the ball lazily on her palm. “You think they’re nervous yet?”
I sank a jumper from the elbow, the net barely flinching. “Should be.”
She laughed. “You know half the bleachers are just here to see you cook Price, right?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Apollo Price?”
“Yeah. Mr. JV Hotshot himself. Told everyone he was guarding you tonight.”
I dribbled harder than I meant to, the ball smacking the floor with a sharp thunk. My eyes drifted toward the far tunnel just as the boys started jogging out. Sure enough, there he was, head up, trying way too hard to look calm.
Kind of cute. In a puppy-dog-about-to-get-ran-over-by-a-freight- train kind of way. “No way he said that.”
Jasmine nudged me. “Careful, Anna. Drop too many points on him, and he might sub himself out with five guys.”
I smirked, tucking the ball under my arm as the buzzer finally went off. “Yeah, he really shouldn’t have volunteered.”
Our principal stood up and started greeting the crowd and what not. We all gathered our Coach Gina, who had scribbled something on her white board.
“Kayla, you take the tip,” she said, now drawing an arrow to AG. “Anna, you’ll drop down to the three point line off of Kayla’s tip and you’ll have an open look in the first two seconds.”
“Got it” I nodded, brushing hair off my forehead..
“Stay in five-out,” she said. “Play smart, have fun, and let’s blow them out by forty.”
“Let’s go guys!” Brin shouted. “I want to get home before dinner time.”
“Come on, let’s go, bring it in.” I said, bringing my arms around Jasmine and Kayla. “Running clock on three.”
“1, 2, 3. Running clock!”
As we broke out of the huddle, I turned to see Apollo looking at me. There was not a single ounce of emotion in his face.
I smirked as I walked past him. “Good luck. You’re going to need it.” And he still didn’t move a muscle.
