Hoops and Dreams

[12] Meet-Ugly

I rub the wounded spot on the back of my head ruffling my hair. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you?" Darnell says reaching for another pretzel stick from the bag he's holding in his other hand. He's wearing his basketball jersey and a blue hoodie over it.

I frown, "Because of you I might have a concussion again."

"Woah, the first time may have been entirely my fault but this time was all you."

I stand in a partial crouch with my hands dangling at my sides wondering how Darnell got out from under Leah in the five minutes I had that spat with Anika. Maybe more time had elapsed than I thought. A consequence of being way too in my head to notice anything.

"If you want you can sit down," He says gesturing to the brown patch of ground next to him.

I could do a lot worse in terms of seating arrangements so I nod and crouch a little more before I plop myself down. Not for the first time tonight I regret the decision to wear a skirt. It's impossible to cross my legs or actually get low enough to sit so I have to get real creative with positioning. For an awkward second, I have to lower my legs and then crouch until I can sit down and land with a huff. I hold my legs to my chest to keep decent but it doesn't make for the most comfortable form.

For an even more awkward pause, neither of us says anything.

"Great game," He says suddenly.

It's hard to believe that five minutes ago I was in a fight with my closest friend and oddly enough Kite Adams because the next thing I say is: "Great game. That was a freaking great game."

Darnell shifts around to look at me, "That was the greatest game this year. Screw that, the greatest game we've ever played."

"The Ravens didn't even know what hit em. The shock on Flynn's face when he worked it all out." I say.

"And your play. It actually blew my mind how quickly you came up with that." Wordlessly he passes me the bag of pretzels as though he's received the mental signals I've been broadcasting to him. I have a soft spot for salted dough snacks and anyone who offers them to me.

I grab a pretzel stick and set upon gnawing on it. "My play? How about your three-pointer? I had no idea you had it in you."

He scoffs, "You can check the disbelief, Hazel. I've scored before."

"Actually not in recent history. In fact—"

Darnell pulls the pretzel bag away, "Yeah, thanks for reminding me."

And with that we return to the awkward silence we had settled into before. I wasn't trying to be mean. I was being honest.

"So, uhhh," I say swallowing the rest of my pretzel. "Why are you sitting under the bleachers. When you could be out there, the life of the party. The guy who scored the equalizer." I whisper the word equalizer.

He smiles, "Not really. This isn't exactly my scene." He puts the words my scene in air quotes. " I was supposed to be playing Fortnite but instead I'm here hiding from my friends."

"Hiding?"

"Yup. I don't know if you've noticed but this much social interaction isn't necessarily a good thing for me."

"No, I haven't," I say drily. "With your charming personality. I can't imagine that."

"You don't have to be so sarcastic all the time, you know."

"I'm not being sarcastic. I'm being real." I say in my defense. "Everyone likes you. It's like you're some kind of magnet and you make people want to be around you."