Rumor Has It (Rumor Has It #1)(49)
"This is it!" Coach yells at us as we huddle around, only ten seconds left in the game. "We're down by four. Two possession game. It's now or never. McCormick, you post up, and we run the three." Coach circles some x's on his dry-erase board. "Mitchell, you take the shot or dump it off to Dixon. Just like we practiced, boys!" I look over at Lucas, who I know will take the shot if he needs to.
The referee whistles for us to get going and Matt throws the ball to Lucas. He dribbles around a defender and stops, about to take the shot, but a new defender jumps to block him. He throws me the ball, and I shoot it, sinking a three-pointer.
Northwood gets the ball and Matt runs over to foul them, stopping the clock. It's our last foul to give in the game, so Northwood isn't going to get a foul shot. But we need a steal and to score again, or else that's it.
They throw the ball in and try to delay the clock. With only six seconds left, we have to steal it without a foul. Matt runs to defend, but the player throws the ball to his teammate right in front of me. I dart towards the ball, my fingers making just enough contact to deflect it. Everyone scrambles as the clock ticks down to three.
Matt and Lucas run ahead, as I dribble towards the hoop. All we need is two points. A simple lay-up can get us the win. Northwood’s defenders catch up and get in front of me, blocking me from the basket. Lucas is open at the top of the key, so I throw him the ball. It barely touches his fingers before he jumps in the air and lets it go. The game clock winds down and a buzzer sounds through their gym.
Time seems to slow. Everyone in the gym—our team, their team, everyone in the stands—we all hold our breath. As the buzzer goes off, the ball floats in the air towards the hoop and hits the back of the rim. More collective gasps, as the ball bounces up, before falling back down towards the front of the hoop. It hits the front of the rim. Then it bounces away.
Northwood doesn’t need a win to celebrate, but that doesn’t stop what seems like their entire student body from running on to the floor, everyone screaming in elation. Through the commotion on the court, we carry out our obligatory handshake with the other team, before heading to the locker room.
"What the hell, Carter?" Jeremy yells.
“Shut up, Jeremy!” Matt shouts back.
“He had the shot!”
“No, he didn’t! Thirty-five was all over him.”
“Bullshit!” Jeremy gets in my face, but I’m done fighting with him. “You were right there for the layup. You too much of a pussy, you can’t score with girls that you can’t even score baskets anymore?”
Okay, maybe I'm not done fighting with him. I jump up, grabbing his jersey, and slam him into the lockers. Before anything significant can happen, the rest of the team starts shouting, getting between us.
"Enough! Enough!" Coach steps in. He turns to Jeremy, wrapping a fist around his jersey, then does the same to me. "Listen up!" His head dances around, leering at the rest of the team. "All of you! You played your best, all of you did. This is a tough loss, but you gave it all you had. McCormick hit the showers. Mitchell, Hillard? You two keep an eye on Dixon." Coach's eyes flash between Jeremy and me again. "I don't know what the hell's gotten into you two, but you need to man up. We still have one game left, and I'll be damned if we lose our last game of the season in front of our home crowd."
I keep my distance the rest of the time and after the showers. Matt and I sit in the back of the bus as we make our way back to school. Plugging my earbuds in, I turn on my music and try to forget the game, remembering what I’m going back to. I’m counting on getting back in time for the art show, and thankfully we make it back to the school thirty minutes before it ends.
"Where are you going?" Matt asks as I walk towards the gym instead of my car.
“I’m gonna check out the art show.” I motion to the gym.
“Hope it works out.”
“Thanks, me too.”
Walking into the gym, large dividers are set up all over the basketball court. The show has been open for nearly two hours, but there are still students and parents mingling, looking at different paintings. Some of the dividers are set up adjacent to one another, while others form corners. It almost resembles a tiny maze you can walk around. I don't see Emma as I come in, so I decide to walk through, looking for her while checking out the artwork.
Turning a corner, I see a painting of palm trees on a beach and find Micah's name signed at the bottom. On a neighboring divider sits another piece by him and a few other paintings.
I keep walking and see a gorgeous waterfall painting. It has vibrant blues and greens and looks like something out of a rainforest. In the corner are initials and I know they're Emma's because next to the waterfall piece is an abstract painting exactly how she described it. It's our school colors, different shades of red and gold, with triangles and circles. I know she has a third painting, but there are two more next to hers with different initials. That's when I turn around and see a six-foot painting behind me. The bottom corner has her initials on it. I stand there, gazing at the piece.
All her thoughts about paintings and how they can invoke feelings suddenly hit me. I never thought something like that would, but it does. It's a scene of sorts. Different shades of blues, grays, and dark greens. Above, sits a huge dark purple cloud with what looks like burgundy lightening in it. There's a long, dark red lightning bolt, shooting out from the cloud, towards a small flower that's growing out of a brick. I've never examined art. I never tried to interpret it or figure out what the artist is trying to say, but for some reason, this painting speaks to me. It's hurting.