HIP #2: Summer Of Love

Chapter 17

I locked my eyes on this empty spaced ceiling for twenty minutes or more. But I don't know why I do. All I know is that I'm trying to kill time. "Come in!" When I heard someone knock, I yelled. I guessed it, it's Peter. I'm right. He came in and slowly closed the door, then unhurriedly walked to me. He gently sits beside me and rubs the sheets of the bed.

"What are you up to?" He asked. My palm stood as a pillow when I rested my head on it while lying down. "Nothing. Killing time." I answered, and he chuckled. I want to explore the whole place right now like what we always do here, but I don't feel like it. And honestly, I don't feel like doing anything today. Just lie on this bed until the night and close my eyes, then wake up tomorrow. "What? Killing time? There's a lot to do out there. You don't want to miss them like Shane and Britney." He raises his eyebrows. Very good at convincing me.

I stood up and watched him stand next to me. I checked myself in the mirror first. My hair, my outfit, my face, and my shoes. My eyes met his blue ones. "Fine." I walked to the door with him behind me and he locked the door for me. It bothers me how hard he tries to always lock the doors, but I can't tell it to him. I don't want to get him offended because of my words.

The owner of this place is so rich. But I don't know why there is no elevator or escalator here. Instead, stairs are making us tired. His loud footsteps were like cups being banged on a wooden table but just lighter. For him, this is easy. Because he's strong enough while me, even if we also have stairs at home, they still make me exhausted easily.

The white sand gets on the sides of my toe fingers. I held my head in different directions to look for the: a lot to do that he mentioned earlier. Which I can't see. He went in front of me and led me to the fun he was referring to like he was a GPS or a map. I followed his footsteps leading me to the place I forgot about. I forgot that his place exists...

The sports court. There's a basketball net, volleyball net, badminton rackets and shuttlecocks, tennis tables, and a soccer ball. The floor is cemented and painted green; making it more look like a real sports court. It's been a long time since I last played sports. I'm just really not that type of sporty girl. "See, told you." He whispered and then locks his eyes on mine. I'm surprised it's just me and him in this place despite all the people around. "We should cherish this moment since it's not yet crowded."

I bit my lips. So, we were thinking of the same thing. He suddenly ran and took the orange ball. He smiled at me as he repeatedly bounced it on the floor. I know how good he is when it comes to basketball. It's already obvious right from the way he bounces the ball. Who wouldn't be good at this if you knew that your father would hit you if you perfect the professional moves?

He threw the ball at me which surprised me but I did nothing but catch it because otherwise, I might get a bruise on my face. "Go on! Shoot it! You can do it!" He clapped after he shouted to cheer me up. Instead of thinking about what I would do, whether I would throw it at him or politely refuse, my feet automatically brought me to the center of the area and threw the ball into the ring. OH MY GOD.

If I'm dreaming, maybe I can now wake up. The ball slips into the ring and then dropped. Peter's eyes widened and his jaw dropped like a ball. "Wow! Three points!" He screamed and walked toward me while still clapping his hands. What do three points stand for?

I actually know nothing about basketball. Except for that my boyfriend is a player. But, that doesn't mean he lectures me about it. I watch him rehearse sometimes. but he never told me anything about playing the game. "That was nice." He kept on cheering me. I just threw the ball then it slipped into the ring and it's already nice? Maybe I don't understand how this game works. He caught the ball in his hands and threw it. Now he is good.

The ball fell after it slipped into the ring again; if I'm a ball I'm probably dead. Dropping on the floor over and over again? That's harsh. "Do you know how to do a dribble?" I frowned. Dribble? I heard it from Chance's friends but never knew what that means.

When he noticed the lines drawn on my forehead and confusion like art on my face. He shook his head and laughed. "You really know nothing about it." I giggled along with him until he continued. "But you already made a three-points-shot."

He went behind me while placing the ball in my hands. "Dribbling is like just playing mindlessly with the ball. You have to enjoy it. You let the ball bounce on the floor while tapping it every time it gets up. Like this." He instructed and the ball did its job. As he said, it bounced and he pats the top of it. "Try it." I let my hand out and tap the ball while it's bouncing.

"Why do I still need to pat it?"

"So that it will keep bouncing. It's going to stop if you also stop patting it." I stopped. Because I thought he was lying. Turns out he is not.

"See." He gestured to the ball which stopped bouncing already. "Yeah." I reacted.

"Like life, when we, humans, have no one to cheer on us, we get sad. Balls stop bouncing when no one is patting it." His cold voice meant something more than the statement. And I can't get it off my head.