I Wish I Were (boyxboy)

1

I stood on the free throw line and squared my shoulders and hips, my gaze focused on the net as I imagined the ball going through. The ref tossed the ball to me and blew the whistle. I took a breath, dribbled the ball a few times, and let muscle memory take over as I threw the ball. With a swoosh, it went through the net, but I didn't have time to relish in the glory of making the shot before the other team checked the ball and went sprinting down the court. But time was running out and we were up by four points thanks to my shot. My sprint turned to a jog as one guy made a shot from barely outside the three-point line. The ball glanced off the side of the backboard just as the buzzer rang.

The gymnasium erupted into cheers from our side of the bleachers, and from our small student section. I tried to focus on their high fives, their smiles, but it was hard when I was right next to the other team's much bigger student section. It almost hurt my heart to see their stoic gazes, their hard frowns. We had just beat them on their own turf, of course they would be upset. It almost took my smirk away, but I just turned my gaze from them and jogged over to the sideline as the other team's band played their own fight song.

Once I stopped looking at the other student section, it became hard to contain my smile. But celebration wasn't for the court. Celebration was for the locker rooms. It wasn't cool to be excited about a win, at least not for a normal game, and especially not on the other team's home court. Even though it was a great game that we weren't expected to win, even though it was my own shot that cemented our win.

So as I said good game to all the other team members, I tried to focus on them, but it was hard since Wes was in front of me. My eyes kept straying from their eyes to Wes's blond head, to the muscles in his arms and back.

I shook my head ever so slightly and pried my gaze away from him. Once we talked to the coaches, we turned around and jogged off the court towards the locker rooms.

Now, beside Wes and next to my other teammates, away from the other team, I was finally able to smile.

Wes lightly hit my forearm. "Nice free throw, man. That must've been stressful. I don't think I would've been able to make it, if I were you." He let out a chuckle.

My mouth twitched up into half a smile. "We still would've won, even if I'd missed."

Wes shrugged before he pulled down his basketball shorts. I averted my gaze and focused instead on myself, on changing out of my own uniform instead of Wes changing out of his. Normally, we'd just ride the bus in our sweaty uniforms, but we were at least an hour's bus ride from the school.

Just as I pulled my sweats up, Wes leaned closer to me.

"A bunch of the guys and some cheerleaders are going to Sasha's afterwards, but keep it on the down low. We don't want everyone there," he whispered.

I nodded. "I'll be there."

Wes smirked and smacked my back before going to talk to another boy, probably to invite him too.

I pulled my jersey off and replaced it with a basketball hoodie. Just as I slipped it on, the coach walked into the locker room, clipboard in hand. Normally, he hid his emotions well, rarely letting it be known when he was proud of us based on his facial expression alone, but right now he was smiling.

"Alright boys, hurry up 'n change so we can debrief and get home."

The locker room chatter died down as we almost all sat on the benches. Wes pushed my bag off the bench and sat next to me.

"Dude, I'm so pumped," Wes whispered. He was already jittery, his leg bouncing up and down and making the whole bench shake. It almost made me start to shake as well.