Page 69 of Rookie Season
The floor is shaking, my eardrums pulsing with the noise from the crowd. The ball goes up against our net, and I catch it off the rim.
Ten seconds.
Adrenaline pounds in my veins as I throw it forward to Jay, who’s almost at center court. I run up after him, and he brings it over the line and passes it back to me.
The final seconds of the game tick down, and I sneak a glance at the scoreboard. Satisfaction roots in my chest. I dribble out the final seconds, LA pulling up because they know they’ve lost.
The ref blows the whistle, but it’s impossible to hear in the deafening arena. I toss him the ball.
“Only pie they’re gonna be eating is the humble kind!” Jay hollers as he fist-bumps me.
Even Clay is grinning, and the guy has seen it all.
A few of the LA guys come up, and we trade hugs and fist bumps. It’s the holiday after all.
Denver won. On Christmas Day.
Against one of our biggest rivals.
I used to dream of these moments as a kid, but living it for real…
There’s no better feeling.
Except that even as red-and-purple streamers flutter from the ceiling, the media descends on the court for the post-game interviews, and everyone is in an objectively jovial mood, something’s missing.
I feel it through the on-court interviews, TV personalities wanting to know if it’s easier or harder to play on a holiday.
It’s there when I make my way back to the dressing room and I hit the shower.
Definitely there when I grab my phone in my locker to find it blowing up with messages from family and friends.
Probably because I’m thinking of one person who’s not in my phone.
Sierra.
She should have been here. I pictured it in my head, was so damn happy when she said yes. But she’s not. She pulled away, and whatever shot I had is over.
“You’re onto something with this Christmas cabin,” Jay says, pulling his phone and gear out of his locker. “We should make it a tradition.”
“Yeah. I’ll see what I can do,” I say, but I’m distracted.
“We’re all going back to Clay’s,” Miles is saying, but I’m tuning him out.
The past few days felt almost as good as being home for the holidays. It was spending time with the guys, but it was also her.
My phone rings with a video call. My parents.
My heart lifts a little.
I answer but put my thumb over the camera.
“Merry Christmas!” they chorus.
My sisters are there. Cousins and aunts and uncles too.
“What’s wrong with your video?” one of my sisters demands.
“I’m in the locker room so can’t put you on video.”
