Page 44 of The Pass Protection
Tonight, my team is one of the six playing in the first time slot. When I read over the schedule, I was surprised to see how many teams there would be in the intramural league. There are three time slots, with sixteen teams playing every Tuesday night. When I pulled into the lot, I was shocked to see how many cars were parked.
The echo of dribbling basketballs fills the air, mixing with the crowd’s buzzing as they filter into the stands. Kyrie stands in front of the bench as he introduces all of the players on the team. It turns out that I’m the only girl on the team, but Dylan keeps bragging about the first time watching me play.
The other team steps foot on the court first, and we follow suit. All twelve of us shake hands as the referee reminds us that while this game is to be played following the regular basketball rules, we are to have fun still. Once he goes over the rules, a player from each team takes their place on the bench.
Lucky for me, I’m starting. The other team is all males, which is fine. Kyrie takes his position at center court with the other team’s tallest player as we wait for the jump ball. I’m standing to the side when a player from the other team steps up next to me.
“You sure you’re ready to play with the big boys, princess? I heard the volleyball team is looking for players.”
Determination courses through my veins as I pinch my face in annoyance. “Don’t worry.”
The referee tosses the ball in the air as Kyrie easily outjumps the other guy. He swats the ball to one of my teammates and we all take off down the court. I’m first to make it down to our side of the court, and as I run toward the hoop, Dustin whips a bounce pass toward the basketball. Snatching the ball flawlessly, I easily make the layup, allowing my team to get on the board first.
My defender mumbles something about it being a lucky shot. It’s too bad for him. He has no idea what he’s in store for. His insecure masculinity is going to be put to the test.
Dylan forces a turnover and passes the ball to Dustin, who dribbles the ball up the court. I find my position on the left side. Jabbing toward the center, I rub my defender off my teammate’s shoulder as I free myself outside the three-point line. Dustin passes me the ball as my defender catches up.
He waves his arms between us as he takes a step back, allowing the distance between us to grow. “Go ahead, princess. I’ll even give you extra space to dribble in.”
Fuck. This. Guy.
With a glance at the hoop, I position my fingers across the ball’s seams. My eyes find my defenders as my feet leave the ground, and I release the ball toward the hoop. With a flick of my wrist, the ball spins in a perfect arch. Swish. The ball sails into the net as I hold my arm in the air, allowing my follow-through to be over the top, and I wink at the defender.
“Oops, sorry. Looks like you might want to play defense.”
The first half was a lot like the opening minutes. Our team continued to play as a team, while our opponents were more interested in showcasing their own skills. Their cockiness kept them in the way of succeeding.
The referee blows his whistle, signaling the end of halftime. Stepping foot onto the court, I adjust my ponytail as I scan the crowd. A red CTU hat catches my attention, and familiar brown eyes track my movement. My lip curls as I fight the grin desperate to break free.
Crew freaking Riggsby is at my game. Sitting in the back corner to avoid drawing attention. And he just winked at me. Be still my heart.
Kyrie nudges my shoulder as he steps next to me. “Ready to put this in the bag?”
“You bet. I had no idea how competitive this league was.”
“That still okay?”
“Hell yeah. I’m living for this.” I nod toward an opponent who is stepping out onto the court. “Did you see the face on that asshole when I drained that three in his face?”
“I think everyone saw that.”
“That’s what happens when you make dumbass comments that girls can’t ball.”
The whistle sounds again, and I take my place on the left side of the court near the three-point line as I wait for one of the guys on my team to bring the ball up the court. The dumbass I was just talking about is guarding me, and his arrogance is suffocating.
It’s a very entertaining event. Music plays from the speakers as an announcer walks around the gymnasium, interviewing fans and cracking jokes. The intramural program is designed to not only get students playing basketball, but at the end of each semester, the organization puts on a charity tournament, where proceeds benefit a different organization each semester. This year’s contributions will bedonated to a youth center a few blocks away that needs an updated basketball court.
As the final buzzer rings out, Kyrie lands a jump shot underneath the basket. Cheers erupt as we make our way over to the bench. Sweat coats my skin as my lungs feel the slight burn from running up and down the court. My muscles felt alive as their memory of the game quickly took over.
“Nice game out there,” Kyrie compliments the whole team. I’m squeezing a stream of water into my mouth. The douche from the other team stepped up his game and overcompensated his defense. I had to work harder in the fourth quarter, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.
We gather in a line beside our bench, and I scan the crowd of moving bodies searching for a familiar face as we wait for the other team. When we start moving, I stick my hand out and congratulate the other team on a good game.
Mr. Douche has a smarmy grin on his face. “Nice game. I didn’t realize girls could actually play ball.”
Dylan steps into the guy’s face as I step between the two. With a hand on Dylan’s chest, I look back over my shoulder. “Thanks. I’ll be sure to use your toxic masculinity as fuel for my next game.”
“Everything all right over here?” the referee asks as he approaches the situation.
