Page 55 of Suits and Spark Plugs

“Was it a malicious twisting of the ankle?” I asked deadpan.

Kelly shrugged. “Nothing that could be proven in a court of law.”

“Where is the other team?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

“Whoever it is, they must hate them. I don’t think this is normal trash talk.”

“Nah, it’s normal.” Kelly waved a careless hand. “Don’t let it bother you.”

“Oh, I’m not bothered. I’m curious.”

We both watched as Scott made a basket from the free throw line. Kelly whistled and cheered, which caused me to blush when the men looked toward us. Unlike Kelly, I’d never liked being the center of attention. Thankfully, the clunking sound of the side door opening drew the focus away as another small group of men jogged out onto the court. This group was wearing matching red and white sleeveless jerseys. They gave each other high-fives, and a few of them cheered.

“Things just got really interesting,” I said. “These guys aren’t messing around. They have actual team jerseys.”

“Oh boy.” Kelly’s eyes grew round. “Now I know why the guys were talking such a big game. This team is their nemesis.”

“Their nemesis?”

“Yeah. Scott was saying something the other day about a team who had jerseys made and always wins. Our guys are determined to take them down this season.” Kelly grew silent, and I watched as her eyes grew rounder and a small smile lit her face. “Oh, this is great.”

I looked but couldn’t figure out what she was so happy about. “What’s great?”

“They only have six guys. You have to have seven, or you forfeit. I mean, it isn’t how Scott wants to win, but it’s something, right?”

“Sure?”

She clapped her hands together and gave out a little squeal. “The universe approves of our love.”

I looked over at her shining face and clasped hands and decided to let her think that the universe was speaking to the rightness of her relationship through a forfeited basketball game. I couldn’t pop her bubble, even if science and common sense were dying a thousand deaths right now.

The referee came out of a different door and met the group of men in the middle of the court. He wasn’t a very tall man, but the way he marched in, grasping his whistle with his chin held high, told me he took his weekend job very seriously. A forfeit was definitely happening.

Just then, that banging side door opened again and another man jogged in, sliding his arms into a red jersey and pulling it over his head as he hurried along. There was something very familiar about the way he moved and the lines of his arms and shoulders. When I saw a tuft of coppery hair peek out of the neck hole I gasped. Connor.

I turned to say something to Kelly, but she’d seen him herself. I watched as her jaw dropped open. “What is he doing here?”

I had a sudden flash of sitting in similar bleachers, cheering on our high school team and watching Connor make eyes at the cheerleaders as he ran up and down the court. “Didn’t he play in high school?” I stuttered.

“Yeah, but still, what does he think he’s doing?” Kelly surprised me by standing up and yelling in a loud voice, “Wipe the floor with them, Scott.” She sounded bloodthirsty in a way that made me think in another era she could have been the official war crier of her people.

Scott and his team—along with the other team and Connor—all looked to where we were sitting. Well, Kelly was standing and slamming one fist into her other palm, making a smashing motion, but I was definitely sitting and trying my best to become invisible.

“You guys can take them. Show no mercy!” Kelly yelled in that same high-pitched, slightly crazed voice.

Scott’s team cheered back at her, fists raised, while the opposing team shared confused glances. Connor’s eyes were unreadable as they met mine. I raised my shoulders and shook my head.

“Ma’am.” The referee’s little body produced a big sound, which shut everything else into silence. “You’ll abide by the rules of good sportsmanship or you’ll leave the area.”

Kelly immediately sat, and this time it was Connor’s team who was smiling. “If Connor does anything to mess this up for Scott, then our friendship is over,” she promised.

I stifled a sound of amusement. “I think Connor is here to play basketball, not to ruin friendships.”

“Well, if he values my friendship he’ll throw the game.” Her jaw was set.

I reached over and pushed her lightly on the shoulder. “Reboot,” I said. Her lips pinched but she looked over at me. “This is a recreational basketball league. Connor probably didn’t realize he was entering a war zone.”

---