Settle the Score / Hustle Play

Chapter Seven | Winning Streak

Four weeks later, the Lady Hunters and the Sapphire Scorpions were engaged in a face-off for the championship. Tied at two games apiece, I tried my best not to let my emotions get the best of me until the final buzzer went off. This was my last year in college. Winning the championship would make it so much sweeter.

As I did warm-up stretches by the bench, familiar voices called my name. I grinned when I glanced over my shoulder and saw Justine and Colby wearing Lady Hunter jerseys with my number on them.

“Garnet, have you heard?” Colby bounced on her toes as she asked, seemingly unable to keep the juicy piece of gossip in for much longer.

“This isn’t the best time,” I said. “Can it wait?”

Impatient, Justine grabbed my arm and whispered something into my ear. I must have looked unconvinced, because she followed it up with, “Heard it straight from the horse’s mouth.”

Colby grinned. “Now’s your chance.”

“What? No, Colby! I don’t want to be the rebound!”

My friend rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Just go win the trophy, and then the boy’s heart.”

* * * * *

Fourth quarter, one minute left. As the Scorpions led by five points, the blue camp began to rejoice over their imminent victory. I’d been playing for most of the game and was already told to rest, but Lucy Ganzon fouled out after the last play, leaving Coach Castro no other choice but to put me back in.

We had ball possession, but we needed a quick conversion, then force a turnover and score again within the next thirty seconds. It was the only way we could stand a chance to win the championship, or at least earn five more minutes of game time.

My hands turned clammy as I felt my bad foot start to ache. I wasn’t supposed to play more than twenty minutes, but here I was, clocking in at least thirty. While Coach Castro’s voice was nearly drowned by the crowd’s cheering, I looked up at the bleachers and saw Charles staring right at me.

He made the hand gesture for “fake pass lay-up,” and I looked away, shaking my head. Back in sophomore year, we did this thing where he’d make a hand gestures for specific moves he thought would be appropriate for a certain play. We really only did it for fun, but we’d never failed, either. While the team had Coach Castro to rely on, I had an extra coach right up the bleachers.

However, the play being set up didn’t involve me handling the ball. My task was only to screen and let Kim Caliuag take the three-pointer, with Mac Rejano posting inside the paint for a possible rebound.

When I looked up at Charles again, he waved a green tube balloon and smiled widely. Again, I heard Justine’s voice in my head: Charles and Nica broke up.

Why hadn’t he told me?

Fine. We never really touched the topic altogether, but wasn’t it something he could have told me about? Him not telling me felt like he didn’t trust me enough with the information.

Jesus Christ, Garnet. You’re in the middle of a championship game. Focus.

The game resumed at the referee’s signal, and we all did as Coach Castro instructed. Inbound went straight to Kim, and I held my breath as she dribbled, faked, and took the shot from the rainbow line.

“CALIUAG, THREE POINTS!”

The Sierrans went wild, but the game wasn’t over yet. Without a second wasted, the Scorpions took possession, using a baseball pass to inbound the ball. Unfortunately for them, our point guard Bernice Cabangon was there to intercept it, and the Hunters were once again given the chance to score, with less than thirty seconds left in the game.

Bernice slowed us down, making eye contact with me as she brought the ball to our side of the court. We only needed three points to win this game, and if we killed enough time before delivering another three-point shot, we’d have the championship trophy in the bag.

But our three-point shooter Kim was being double-teamed, and Bernice decided to pass the ball to me as the game clock dropped to five seconds.

Fake pass lay-up, I recalled Charles’ signal. As soon as the ball touched my hands, I drove into the paint and faked a behind-the-back pass to Mac. My guard bit the bait and I went for the kill.

Something smacked into me, and I heard a whistle being blown right before I landed on my back. I saw the ball skim the rim of the basket twice before falling neatly through.

“Foul, number 4 Marcelo.”

The Sierrans cheered boisterously at the prospect of a three-point play, some of them booing whoever it was who almost body-slammed me to the ground. I saw faces crowding my vision and heard voices asking if I was okay. Everyone was a blur for a few seconds, but I only had to shake my head and everything was crystal clear again.

I looked up at the game clock as I walked to the foul line. There was less than a second left, and all I needed to do was sink this free throw so we could bring home the bacon.

I received the ball, took a deep breath, and looked up at the bleachers. It pinched my heart to realize Charles wasn’t there anymore. A hand clapped my back then.

“You sink this and we’re champions, Garnet,” Bernice told me. “You can do this.”

It was overwhelming, the cheering coming from both sides of the coliseum. The banging of the drums, the balloons being waved in the air...

Ball in hand, I closed my eyes for a second to concentrate. I heard Charles’ voice in my head.

I believe in you, Garnet. I always have.

I opened my eyes again and loosened my wrists before setting my gaze on the basket. Aim. Shoot.

Score.

The final buzzer sounded, and the De La Sierra crowd went wild. Left and right, I found myself getting attack-hugged by my teammates who eventually hoisted me up on their shoulders. Green and silver balloons, as well as confetti, fell from the ceiling while the cheer squad chanted steadily together with the rest of the Sierrans.

“Ladies and gentlemen, your women’s basketball champions... the De La Sierra University Lady Hunters!”

Much fanfare ensued, and soon my feet were back on the ground. I had not even caught my breath yet when I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around my waist. Spinning around, I felt my heart drop to my stomach when I saw Charles’ eyes looking at me as though I were the much-coveted trophy.

“I told you you’d kill it.” His voice might have been drowned out by the noise, but I read his lips loud and clear.

“You’re killing me with that spandex,” I said, trying my best not to chuckle at his cheer squad uniform. It wasn’t funny how it hugged his body in all the right places, though.

“It’s dri-fit, Garns. Know the difference.”

“Whatever.”

My heart almost stopped when I saw his gaze fall on my lips, and my cheeks flushed as he leaned in to press his forehead against mine.

“Please let me kiss you.”

“…Why?”

“Because the first time was a foul, and I want to make this one count.”

I felt the corners of my lips get tugged upward, and he closed the gap between us until his lips touched mine. I closed my eyes once again, my head swimming in a sea of thoughts about Charles and Nica, and my friends Justine and Colby, who were probably seeing this and cheering us on from courtside. But Charles’ kisses (one, two, three) were sweet and gentle and enough of a distraction for the meantime. The questions will have to wait.

Figueroa, three points.