Crimson Death (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter #25)(74)
On the court, both teams were already out doing warm-ups, the squeaking of their sneakers on the waxed floor echoing throughout the stadium. I spotted Will right away among the sea of black and white, the number four splashed in bold white lettering on the black of his jersey. His wavy dark hair was already plastered to his red forehead with sweat, and the rest of his light brown skin seemed to glow under the bright lights. He was completely focused on his teammates as they did some sort of group drill that involved dribbling and passing six balls around the team at once. There was some sort of pattern, I’m sure, but to me it just looked like balls flying everywhere, and I kept expecting someone to take a ball to the head. But no one did. They were coordinated and calm.
Especially Will. But that was probably my bias showing.
The game itself started not long after we got there. It was hard for me to follow the rules of who was supposed to go where, and what kind of moves were allowed, but at least I had the gist of things. And the gist was, this was probably going to be a close game. Fifteen minutes in, and so far the pattern had been home score, away score, home score, away score. The boys from Frankston High—the team in green and white—played well, but so did we. Some of the sheer bodily feats, the dodging, sprinting, blocking, and leaping, were kind of blowing my mind. It was one thing to watch it on TV, but it was another to see it happen in person. Here, you could really tell just how high someone soared off the ground, and hear the thud of colliding shoulders if two guys got in each other’s way.
And Will. He was amazing. Totally focused on the game at all times, he threw himself into things, not a single cheeky smile in sight. If any of the Frankston guys were unlucky enough to come up against Will defending him, it was almost guaranteed they’d lose the shot. He didn’t jump to intercept balls so much as fly.
In fact, by halftime I was almost sorry I’d have to leave soon. Watching him out there gave me a rush of pride that I hadn’t quite expected. But if I was going to make it to sound check, I couldn’t hang around for more than another fifteen minutes or so.
It was during halftime, though, that Will spotted me in the stands for the first time. He’d tipped back his head to take a swig from his water bottle, right after leaving some sort of strategy talk led by the coach and Matt, when his eyes locked onto mine. His blue plastic bottle went right back down to his side, and his lips spread into a slow smile. I tucked my hands between my knees and rocked to the side a bit, to say, “Yes, you got me here, happy?”
From the looks of things, he sure was.
I hung around for the beginning of the second half, and then turned to Juliette. “I’m gonna have to head off—” I started, when her back snapped straight and she let out a gasp, pressing her hand over her mouth.
I whipped around to see Matt rolling along the floor near the farthest hoop. When he stopped rolling, his body was totally motionless.
“Oh my God,” Lara said, half-standing in her seat.
The coach, the referee, and a teacher ran onto the court to crouch by Matt’s side. Will sprinted over at the same time, trying to look through their shoulders to check on his friend, with Darnell coming up behind him. Someone in the crowd screamed over a wave of urgent murmuring.
Then, thankfully, Matt kicked out a little, and the adults rolled him over. The crowd clapped and whistled with relief, including the sea of green and white on the Frankston side of the stands. Matt was conscious again, but dazed, and they slowly lifted him under his arms to a sitting position. They seemed to do a quick examination to see if anything was hurt, then painstakingly helped him to his feet and walked him off to the sidelines. The coach sent one of the guys on the bench on the court in his place. Lara jumped to her feet and hurried down the steps to meet Matt.
“What happens now?” I asked the remaining girls. “Do we finish the game?”
On the court, Will hooked his hands behind his neck and watched after his friend, looking distressed. The coach went over to him and said something, and Will nodded, wiping his forehead with the back of his arm. “All right, guys, huddle up!” Will shouted, and the rest of the team fell into a semicircle.
“Yup,” Juliette said. “Will’s vice-captain. We can play on. Matt seems okay, at least.”
“They should’ve put him on a stretcher or something,” Niamh said, shaking her head at the referee and the teacher, who were still chatting with Matt on the bench while Lara hovered nearby him, frowning. “He could have a concussion.”
I agreed with Niamh, but he did seem all right, at least— he laughed at something, even with his hand pressed on the back of his head, and scooted over to make room for Lara to sit with him.
The referee blew the whistle, and the team moved into their places on the court, Will shouting out short instructions to everyone.
Will had to act as captain for the rest of the game. I couldn’t leave him now. No way. And, really, did it matter if I missed setup and warm-up? It wasn’t ideal, but hopefully Izzy and the guys would understand if I explained there’d been an emergency here. I’d still be able to make it for the gig itself, easily. I shot Izzy a quick text, then settled back into my seat.
The rest of the game was just as close as the first half. The crowd got more and more invested as the end drew closer, screaming and whooping and booing, and even standing up to cheer at one point when Darnell managed to land a shot from almost halfway down the freaking court. And every time the whistle blew for a break or time-out, Will glanced up at me, to check if I was still there. I was so glad I was.