Lining up for P.E., Jeraud chewed out the inside of his cheek as Mr. Torres placed the freak beside him for roll call.
Mr. Torres didn’t bother asking Jeraud about his unusually frustrated expression, and instead continued with his class schedule.
After some light warm ups in the chilling fall breeze and a bull run around the basketball courts, which the mutant lead, shattering Jeraud’s record without breaking a sweat, Mr. Torres announced that they would have their championship game of basketball.
Jeraud smirked despite his panting, his cockiness getting the best of him, his insatiable spirit glowing. Without his positively natural gift of precocity, this team would have never made it to the finals. He knew it, they knew it, and he knew that they knew it. Heck, everyone on the blacktop knew it. Jeraud continued chasing his goals until everyone around knew who he was and what he does, and his actions turned to his name to infamy. So, instead of begging him to join their teams, most of the school athletes steered clear of Jeraud’s bigheaded foulness.
With his usual gruff frankness, Mr. Torres instructed his students to meet at the first basketball course with the finalist inside. Jeraud paraded into the center of the court, smiling wide enough for Google Maps to see, as his team followed begrudgingly behind. They weakly greeted the other team, ashamed for Jeraud’s lack of sportsmanship as he dawdled behind, pretending not to notice them. But what he did notice was that the other team was missing a player.
He groaned, knowing this game was going to be unexciting and unchallenging.
His gaze locked with Romeo’s, who was waiting by the sideline with a hard expression. Because the teams were chosen randomly, he and Romeo were unfortunately separated from their usual companionship. Not that it mattered either way. Romeo showed no interest in sports, despite his athletic body, and usually just hung around the basket while they played.
Jeraud dropped his gaze and instead spied the freak show, wondering what she was doing. He found her busily chatting with Melanie and her posse. That dumb slut would make friends with anyone for popularity, even an annoying underclass orphan. Jeraud rolled his eyes, disappointed in Melanie’s shallowness.
Mr. Torres was just coming back with the basketballs when he began laying down the rules. “Okay, we play with all the same rules with a few extra. We’re looking for a quick, clean game here. These are the added rules,” Torres started, “The first team to twenty points wins.”
Jeraud let out a disappointed huff murmuring in his head that the game would be too easy. Torres seemed to have read his mind, and he turned to Jeraud with a raised a brow.
“But there are some cheats into an easy win.” Torres informed, focusing back on both teams rather.
Jeraud’s ears perked at the sound of that, and he awarded his teacher with his attention once again.
“If either team manages a shot from across the court, they win.”
Jeraud snorted, shaking his head. He wasn’t even at that level yet, there was no way anyone on the other team would be. He disregarded the added rule as if Mr. Torres hadn’t even said them.
Mr. Torres whistled for the start of the game, and Jeraud commanded the tallest of his teammates to the center, shouting commands at the other players as well. As the game starts, the ball is easily taken into his hands. He dribbles, rounds the outer edge of the line, and flicks his wrists forward as he takes a quick leap. The ball flows through the net with a satisfying swish. Three points were easily made, and not even a minute into the game.
He ebbed and flowed through the court as fluidly as water through rapids. He dripped through his legs in front of the other players, showing off his pretentious footwork. They lashed at him, shoving him roughly in an attempt to steal the ball, and instead earning a foul as the calculating Jeraud easily secured two free throws.
As his team reached twelve points, Jeraud walked across the court, dribbling the ball lazily as he yawned. This was a championship game and Jeraud was only thinking about what he hoped to have for dinner.
“Torres!” A player from the other team whined, hunched over pathetically. “Fray is doing all of the work; his teammates aren’t even trying! And we’re missing a player! This isn’t fair!”
Mr. Torres, who was busy chatting to the other P.E. teacher, only just seemed to notice the game. He gave a curt nod before saying a few more hushed words to the other teacher, and hustled his way back to his class with his clipboard. “Extra credit to whoever joins the team.” He offered halfheartedly.
“Oh, oh! Me! Me!” a girly voice sang out from the silence without delay. Jeraud cringed at the sound of her perfect song as if there were nails being hammered in his ears.
“New girl? You’re in.” Mr. Torres scribbled down beside her name as she trotted into the court with that stupid smile.
“Awe, the new girl?!” player who whined earlier was now moaning. “Seriously?”
“You can either have her sub or continue playing with one player short.” Mr. Torres shot a cold look at the player.
The boy pouted, but didn’t hesitate to get back to the court.
Jeraud scowled at the weirdo in front of him. She was eyeing the ball with a hungry smile.
“Forget it, freak,” he grumbled. “You see this ball? You’re not gonna get it. Now get out of the way, low life.” He murmured as Mr. Torres called the game to a start.
Running past her to swiftly toss the ball for another three, he couldn’t help but feel elated at winning now. Not only was he going to wrap up this game singlehandedly, but he was finally going to beat that gorilla at something. That was great enough news to last him the whole day.
He turned back to look at her as the other team waited at the sidelines to dribble in. Her lips were left agape, her eyes wide at what he had said, her usually proud chest fallen. And not only that, but her nose was scrunched like a threatened dog, and her brows knit together, an expression he hadn’t ever seen grace her face before. Jeraud could feel a smile creep on his lips at the sight of it.
He easily snatched the ball from a passerby and slowly dribbled his way back to the beast. Ignoring the cries to get back to the game, he instead watched as her façade crumbled right before his eyes
“Hey, freak. Let’s make a deal.” He smirked at her for once, winning the game not enough for him.
She looked up, her brows in angry slants. Seeing it up close made him wish he had his phone to snap a photo, to want to stop everything and cheer.
“If I win,” he went back to business, “Then you tell me what’s up between you and Romeo. If you win, then…” He raised his brows at her.
“Then you, Tim, and Mikey all drop the subject!” she hissed with poison in her tone. Hearing her growl instead of sing? That was music to Jeraud’s ears.
Smirking at her cute attempt at being vile, he struck out a hand. “Deal.” She took it forcefully, and his hand crippled between her grasp. He winced, but only for a second. The pain wouldn’t deter him from winning, especially with stakes that high.
He threw his finger in the air and gave it a whirl, turning on his heels towards everyone’s spiteful gaze. “Okay, back to the game!” He stated, tossing the ball to the other team and directing him to the sidelines.
The player threw the ball at one of her teammates, but Jeraud fluidly swooped in and rounded the court in a dribble before jumping high to make a basket from the middle of the court. He only needed two more points to win both the game, and the freak’s secrets. His blood boiled in anticipation, his tongue almost tasting the juicy gossip slither down his throat.
He heartlessly watched as one of his opponents threw his arms in the air with a loud cry. Then he turned to spy on the freak, and what she was doing to try and keep him from winning the bet. Not that there was anything she could do. He wouldn’t even allow her to touch the ball, much less dribble it across the court and score even two points.
The last game started, and Jeraud managed to swipe the ball again for his hundredth turn-over this game. His cheeks were sore from smiling so widely, the muscles not accustomed to such wear. He easily made his way within the three-point line, as every other player in the court gave up and stood lifelessly to watch him take the entire game. Seeing the limp players made him silently thank the troll for joining the fight, though in vain. Without her, this match would have been pointless. Instead, he earned some dirty laundry he could hang out for all to see.
The girl suddenly sped past him, and turned on her heels to wait patiently beneath her basket. Her face was rid of the knots and reddened glare it held before, which disappointed Jeraud. He liked her better with a scowl rather than a smile.
But he easily let it go. He was going to win the game, and that look of pure devastation would soon adorn her pretty face once again. He ached for that scowl on her pink lips, and the crevices between her brows. He wanted nothing more than for her to hate him as much as he did her.
Right before her face he took a step, then another, and soared into the sky, the air whistling in his ears, his arms outreached for the perfect ending to a perfect game with a perfect score.
His hands gripping on to the cold steel of the basket, he waited to the sweet sound of the basketball dancing with the net and bouncing beneath him. But silence fell upon his ears.
He threw nothing but air. It wasn’t possible.
He dropped in disbelief, and his knees gave out as soon as he hit the asphalt. He flailed backwards and fell on his backside with a loud thud. Turning to face the girl with his mouth ajar and eyes wide open, his chest imploded onto itself like a soufflé.
Her arms were raised, slightly bent at the wrist. The whole world slowed and then almost seemed to go in reverse, and sounds diminished away to nothingness. He turned to the basket that had been untouched this whole game until…
Swish.
ns 15.158.61.50da2
