Rematch

PROLOGUE

The moment Zoey Anderson told me she had decided to take college in the Philippines, I was elated. Sure, I'd made friends in Reagan International School since coming over to finish my Senior year in high school almost a year ago, but nothing beats being with your best friend again. Our Skype-ing days would finally be over. I was looking forward to bidding our long distance friendship goodbye.

But that elation was short-lived.

"Marthens, get your head in the game!" Coach Guzman called my attention while we were on time-out. We were playing against School of St. Cecille for the Finals. And yes, I shouldn't be thinking about unnecessary things at a crucial game like this even if it was only the eliminations.

I nodded and tried to concentrate on the board where Coach was drawing a game-winning play. But his voice, the noise of the crowd and drumlines just kept fading in the background.

He's being scouted for the National Team.

The whistle was blown. My team mates and I ran back to the court.

"Are you okay?" Darla asked me. She was the team captain and center, while I was the small forward.

"Yeah, just getting in the zone," I lied. She gave me a tap on my shoulder as we both got into position.

Zoey shared the news several days ago. But I must have been so shocked I dropped out of the call. I kept telling myself that Jarlin Trance had every right to be a National Basketball Player for USA. It's just that, I couldn't place my emotions when I heard the news. Maybe it was my competitive nature reacting as we'd been rivals in high school and I wanted to always be on equal footing with him. I wasn't sure.

Before I knew it, the crowd let out a loud gasp when the ball that I was supposed to receive was tapped out of my reach. I could hear Coach cursing in the background, too. Thankfully, Athena was able to recover it and set up a play again.

The team's ball movement was quick as planned. We were aiming for the last basket as St. Cecille was only up by one point so we were passing the ball around to kill the seconds. I was the team's scorer so normally, they'd go to me to make the winning shot as had been protocol since I was the clutch shooter.

Five seconds.

I was still at the arch when Jackie passed the ball to me. It must have been the news that made me feel all sorts of deja vu. The palpable excitement of the crowd, the tension in the air, the fact that I was playing against the defending champions. It all felt familiar. The only difference was that this was an all-girl basketball game. Yet, in an instant, I was still transported back to high school. And I found myself in that particular game which had burned a stark image in my memory, it was impossible to forget.

Three seconds.

I jumped as high as I could and positioned the ball above my head before I flicked my wrist. The moment it left my hands, I knew something was off.

I landed on the wrong position, twisted my left knee and immediately felt a painful snap as I fell on the court with a yelp. I watched the ball hit the back of the ring before bouncing off again, and the St. Cecille crowd roared in triumph.

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Posted on April 1, 2015 (Wednesday)