Page 56 of Suits and Spark Plugs

“I’m being dumb.”

“Yes.”

The ref blew his whistle shrilly, and we fell silent as the game began. Scott was right in the thick of everything from the moment of tip off. He zigged and zagged, eyes focused, muscles bunched, and I realized how seriously he was taking this game. Connor, on the other hand, was on the team bench, and I had the feeling he was little more than a body needed to avoid forfeiting. The red jersey team moved like a well rehearsed, synchronized swimming team. In its own way, it was beautiful to watch.

My eyes caught the flashes of color, the way sweat darkened their hair and the backs of their shirts, the lines of their arms as they were raised or thrown quickly out to the side, the shape of a hand wrapped around the ball. The sounds of breath rushing out, groans of frustration, the men calling to each other, and always the squealing sound of shoes against the floor.

“The other team must practice a lot,” I said to Kelly.

Her face was glum. “Yeah, they’re really good.”

“Scott’s team is holding their own,” I said cheerfully.

“Yeah. I guess. There’s no way they’ll win though.”

“So what? They’ll have had fun playing basketball on a weekend morning. That counts for something.”

Kelly looked to me. Her blue eyes seemed to darken. “Remember when we were kids and they’d always say that it wasn’t about who won or lost, but about having fun playing the game?” I nodded. “That was a dumb lie.”

My mouth broke into a smile before I had any control over it. “Okay, then.”

“Winning is important.”

“I’m sorry I tried to be reasonable about it.”

“You should be.” Kelly turned back to the court. “Oh, fishhooks. They’re putting Connor in.”

“Is that guy limping?” I asked, watching one of the red jersey guys make his way back to the bench. “I missed who did it.”

“The whistle didn’t blow, so no one did it. He probably tripped over his own feet.”

“Still, I would have liked to have seen it.”

Connor jumped to his feet and wiggled his shoulders and arms a little. His face was stoic, but I could almost feel the energy radiating off of him. Connor typically held his body in a relaxed, unbothered way. That wasn’t the case here. He’d come to play.

“He’d better remember where his loyalties lie,” Kelly said darkly, and I felt a sort of peculiar amusement rise at the sight of her glaring at Connor as he jogged onto the court.

He was about the same height as the other men on the red team, but while they were all lean, he was a little stockier. Hours of lifting heavy car parts had given him definition in his arms that the other men were lacking. Not that I was noticing that kind of thing. It was simply my commitment to art that made me look.

What happened from there was nothing short of absurd. Grown men pushed, shoved, called names, pulled on each other’s shirts, tripped each other, and generally behaved like a bunch of first graders. The ref’s whistle blew more than it should have needed to. At one point I heard the distinct sound of something slapping against bare skin, but none of us could figure out who did it, or who the victim was.

“This is honestly the best thing you could have done for me,” I said to Kelly as the clock was winding down. “It’s really cheered me up.” I’d been beaming for ten minutes straight.

“It’s been a disaster,” she replied. “We’re losing by two points.”

“Don’t lose hope now. Scott’s team has possession of the ball. I have faith in his great calf muscles.”

A side of Kelly’s mouth raised and she nodded. “He does have amazing muscles.”

We leaned forward, intent on the final play as Scott’s team dribbled, dodged, jumped, and passed their way to their basket. In one glorious final shot, the buzzer sounded and the ball ricocheted off the rim, and out of bounds. Scott’s team lost.

“I’m saying lots of bad words in my head right now,” Kelly said as she stood.

I did the same and followed her down the rickety steps to the gym floor. “That was seriously entertaining.”

She turned to me, anger forgotten, eyes dancing, and said, “Did you see the guy who almost got pansted?”

My lips curved up to match her expression. “I did. I can’t believe the ref missed it. This was better than a night at a comedy club.” I started laughing and Kelly joined in.

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