chapter 8: Go!

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God, do I miss James. It's only been four days and it seems like four hundreds! Normally, I'd tell him every little detail of my life but now, I can't even say the most important things! I feel like there is something missing in my days, like waking up in the wrong bed, it feels weird for a moment, then you remember and it's fine again, then you really miss your own bed. I always talk about him, and I'm pretty sure Aaron isn't listening anymore.

"I can't even text hi-"

"If this is about James, I will literally strangle you."

"I'm sorry, but I can't help myself!"

We pass the cheerleaders on our way to the gym, and I directly look at Aaron.

"No 'ron don't do it."

"Hello, laaadies!" Oh, no. He puts a "charming" smirk on his face, just to make it worse.

"Oh, someone in a rush, meets girls lookin' pretty. Excuse me, misses, I know it's not funny but your phone numbers will make somebody happy." Jesus Christ! He is so bad at flirting. And obviously, they laugh at him! I mean, god! What was that?

"Come on, 'ron. Let's go."

After getting farther away from them, I glance at him.

"You okay?"

"What? Oh no, you thought I was sad? Don't worry Thomas, it's fine! It's not the first time that happens and it won't be the last! But you know, it never hurt to try." His facial expression says the same story, so I think he's telling the truth.

"Go, boys! Faster to the gym, Go!"

"But, Mr. Washington, we're ten minutes in advance?"

"Are you speaking back at me now? Go!"

We start to run to the end of the hallway. Out of breath, Burr takes a ball, starts to throw it in the basket and I do the same.

"I heard people call him general Washington. Now I understand why!" I prepare myself to shot.

"I know, I've been with him since freshman year. He's a dictator." Aaand I fail miserably.

I hear laughter from the revolutionary gang, it's really just the park guys, but I call them that 'cause they try to do a revolution against the cafeteria food. I turn around dramatically and realize those mean boys were laughing at me! I turn red. Figuratively, I mean. I don't really turn red. But I am embarrassed.

"Wacha laughing at?" I say while walking to them. My friend stays back, I think he's still awkward with Hamilton.

"Nothing, just your amazing shot. I thought you were like, good at sport?" Gremlin says.

"Oh yeah? Okay then, we have like five minutes, you and I are doing a match." The rest of the gang all say some "ooOoh"'s.

"Hey, I have a disadvantage, I'm two heads smaller than you!" he is a little bit exaggerating, just a little bit.

"Are you scared? 'cause you can forfeit if you want."

"Me, scared? Never."

We look directly into each other's eyes. Mr. Washington is intrigued and when we tell him what is happening, he agrees to help us.

"Ready, set...GO!"

He takes the ball first, dribbling fast to my side. I'm not gonna lie, I never really played basketball. Like, I did it sometimes, but only one or two times a year. I'm not a fan of this... sport, I prefer football. It's much more fun in so many ways! Basketball is just soccer with hands and I don't like soccer either. My father always said that people who prefer baskets are like people who prefer chocolate or vanilla Ice cream, boring. But then again, he prefers bubblegum ice cream which is kinda weird. As a child, He would watch football with me and mom, and we would all be into it. Screaming when our team wins or loses, having t-shirts and makeup. It was fun. At 6 he taught me how to throw the ball and how to catch it. At 8, I was in my first team. At 11, I won the regional with them. When I entered high school, I went on the football team and that's probably why I was so popular at Chilton. It was always football.

Quicksilver - Jamilton -Where stories live. Discover now