Max
So this is what death feels like, I told myself. Sweat was pouring off of my body and all of my limbs wanted to give out, but I forced my legs to keep going. Last one, Max, keep going, I encouraged myself. I made it back to the edge of the basketball court and turned on my heel. My suicide was almost over. I just had to finish running to the other side and back. My lungs burned as I pushed myself further.
"Nice job, Max," Jeb said as I slowed to a jog. He nodded encouragingly when I didn't stop to sit down, instead starting to walk it off to safely lower my heart rate.
Jeb was the girls' basketball coach. He told us to call him Coach Batchelder at the first practice, but that was a mouthful and he didn't object, so we always called him Jeb, Batch, or J-Batch.
"That was absolute torture," my friend Madison said as she caught up with me. We just continued to walk laps around the gym until the rest of the girls-mostly freshmen or new players-finished their suicides.
"No kidding," I muttered back. I glanced down at my left ankle, which had just finished healing from a sprain a week or so ago. I'd been worried about it, but so far it hadn't started acting up. Good. No way was I going to miss Districts.
"Max, Maddie!" called Jeb. We saw that everybody was now just walking around the gym to cool down, so we jogged over to where Jeb was in the opposite corner.
"Yeah, Coach Batchelder?" Maddie asked politely. Jeez. The little kiss-up just wasted two point five seconds of my life by saying something else. And by God, I could've spent those two point five seconds doing something way more valuable with my time!
Ha ha, me and my sarcasm.
"You two are the two seniors this year who the underclassmen are looking up to." I almost snickered, but Jeb caught my eye with a strict face that made me think better of it. "Some of them think it's dumb that they still have to practice even though only varsity plays at Districts. So in the locker room could you...give them a little pep talk or something?"
"Of course!" Maddie smiled hugely, and she seemed genuinely excited. Both of them turned to me.
"Of course!" I mocked, trying to sound just as ecstatic as Maddie had, but my sore throat kind of ruined it by making me croak like a frog.
"Thanks." Jeb smiled thankfully. Then he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, "Two laps and you're done!" His booming voice echoed in the hollow gym.
Maddie and I took off, having found energy knowing that after this we would be done.
"Anyone need a ride?" I asked when everyone was in the locker room. Everybody was beautifying themselves, and I'd just thrown on some sweatpants and called it good.
"No thanks," everybody chorused, and I waved and left, hurrying out to my car. It was hotter than hell out, and all I wanted was to get to my car and get the air blasting.
I threw my bag in the back seat, got the air going, and headed straight over to the Coleman household. I was babysitting Gazzy and Angel, siblings who were polar opposites and had names and attitudes to prove it.
"Hello, Max," said Mrs. Coleman, holding the front door open as soon as I got out of the car. "Did you just have practice?"
"Uh, yeah," I said, smiling embarrassedly. I quickly pulled on a sweatshirt over my cutoff T-shirt. "Sorry about that."
I stepped inside and saw Angel and Gazzy sitting on the couch, watching something on Nickelodeon. They both looked up when they saw me, their huge blue eyes twinkling like angels'.
"Thanks again, Max," Mr. Coleman said, fixing his tie in front of the mirror. He went and put an arm around his wife's waist. "We shouldn't be too late. Just heading to the new restaraunt."
"Oh, don't worry about time. I've got no plans. Have fun." I smiled and waved, shutting the door when they left. The moment I did, Gazzy was up and moving around the house at the speed of a bullet.
"Where's my G.I. Joe, Angel?" he demanded furiously as he came back into the living room. His blonde curls had somehow become unkempt and wild in the two seconds he'd been out of my sight.
"I didn't mess with it," Angel said.
"Are you okay watching Spongebob alone for a few minutes?" I asked. Angel nodded, and I set off to help Gazzy find his G.I. Joe.
XxX
It took four hours overall to find Gazzy's toy, get the pizza in the oven, force the kids to eat the pizza, and get them to bed. By then it was ten o'clock, and I'd recieved a text from Mrs. Coleman saying that the restaraunt had been busier than they'd intended and they would be later than they thought.
I was sitting on the couch eating a slice of cold pizza and watching CSI: New York when they finally got back.
"I am so sorry, Max," Mrs. Coleman stated the moment they pushed through the door. "The restaraunt was just so much busier than we thought it would be, and I'd hoped to be home by-"
"It's fine, really," I interrupted. I stood up, wiping the crumbs from the pizza crust onto my sweats, and said, "Just let me know if you need a babysitter again."
"Of course. Is this enough?" Mr. Coleman handed me two twenty dollar bills.
"That's more than enough. Thank you." I smiled and managed to get out of there.
I figured Maddie and my friends were at a movie or something, and my Friday night was pretty much ruined, so I drove to Sonic to get a slushy. I ordered my usual and sat there for a few minutes, wondering why Sonic took so long on just one drink when I was pretty much the only customer here.
Finally, after about ten minutes of waiting, I got out and shoved my hands in the pocket of my hoodie. I wandered over to one of the tables and sat down, reveling in the cool breeze. Jeez, I needed to shower. Usually I'd always shower in the locker room after a practice as vigorous as today's, but I'd been in a hurry to get to the Colemans'. They probably thought I had major B.O. now. Fantastic.
"Is that your car?" asked a voice. The Sonic guy holding my drink gestured to my car.
"Yeah. How much was that again?"
"Three sixty-five," the guy said. I dug into my pocket, came up with a five dollar bill, and sipped on my drink while he counted out my change.
"Thanks." I grabbed my drink and got back in my car, taking another big gulp and starting it. I glanced at the clock. Only ten-thirty. Surely the party at Adam Duvall's was still going on.
I got there fifteen minutes later and, sure enough, his driveway was still flooding with cars. Adam threw the parties to go to. He lived out of town with a huge yard, his closest neighbor's were two miles away, and his parents were constantly on vacation, so he was popular for having everything teenagers wanted on a Friday night. Beer and hooking up.
In the backyard there was a huge bonfire going. I looked around until I found somebody I knew and, well, liked.
"Hey, Tyler," I said, jogging over with a light skip in my step. I sat beside him on the cooler he was on.
"Hi, Max." He took a big swig out of whatever was in his plastic red cup, and I was glad when he didn't offer it to me.
Tyler was my ex-boyfriend. I'd dated him from the start of my sophomore year to the end of my junior one. He was a year older and had planned to move far away for college, so we'd split. Too bad he only ended up going to the university in town. He was everything I hated in a guy-the cocky football player, the guy who dated every girl, the alcohol-drinker-and yet I knew he cared about me. Just not as a girlfriend anymore. He was still way protective, even though I'd broken up with him.
"What're you doing here? I figured you'd be at college parties by now." I nudged him gently.
"The college football coach would know if we went to college parties, and we're not supposed to be at any parties. So most of the team comes to high school ones."
"Are those the mature college guys I should look forward to for next year?" I questioned, watching a group of about eight completely drunk guys playing catch with a beer can.
"Hell yes." Tyler smirked and put an arm around my shoulder. "So how's basketball?"
"Ugh. Today's practice was torture. I thought I was dying. But Jeb's a way better coach than the one we had last year, so we've got a pretty good chance at State." I leaned into Tyler and thought about last year's Sectionals. Our old coach had made us stall when we were ten points ahead at halftime, and the stalling had only gotten them ahead. In the last minute of the game our team got too desperate so we fouled them one too many times. They went to State after we lost by one point, and they ended up coming in second.
"I remember last year's Sectionals game," Tyler said, as if reading my mind. He'd done that a lot while we were dating. It was creepy.
"Hmm," I muttered. "What do you remember about it?"
"I remember that there were two seconds left when you got the ball, and all you could do was dribble it. As soon as the buzzer went off you threw it over your shoulder and went over to your chair and buried your face in a towel so nobody would see you cry."
"Hmm." I looked up at him and saw that he was looking down at me. "Yeah, I was just a little upset. I'm over it."
"I don't think you are." Tyler smirked at me. "And that's why you're so aggressive this year, and why the team's doing so good."
"Whatever." I leaned away from him, successfully making him take his arm away from over my shoulder. I so did not need him and the drama that came with him anymore. "So how's college football?"
"It sucks. Back to being a freshman, you know? I used to be the best player on this team. Now I'm on the bench for most of the game."
"Only till you're a junior or senior." I was trying to reassure him, but he just chuckled and took another big drink out of his cup.
I'd never really seen the affection for that. Drowning your sorrows with alcohol? No thanks. I'd never drank a day in my life, and I was probably the only senior at my school that could truthfully say that. No, when I was sad I had my own therapy, one that seemed to be ruling my life lately.
Basketball.
Fang
I pulled off my shirt and dove into the water after my friends, wearing only my baggy black shorts. I surfaced, shaking my shaggy wet hair out of my face.
"Hey, Fang, it's Lissa," yelled one of my friends in a very feminine voice. I'm pretty sure it was Jon.
Vince picked up, adding to Jon's statement so that it was a game of tease Fang. "Yeah. Come here, Fang, I need you now."
"You shouldn't be teasing, guys," I said, pulling myself up onto the diving board. We were at Jon's house, swimming past midnight since his parent's were gone. "At least a girl at school wants me."
"Hey! It's not like we're virgins," came Vince. His voice was no longer high and squeaky, more low and defensive now.
"How many girls have you slept with, Vince? Two, was it?" I laughed and slapped Jon's hand, then dove neatly off the board and back into the water. I used to be a diver, before I discovered basketball. And I'd never once considered going back. Hell no. Basketball was too fun.
"You ever noticed that girls are always dedicated to one guy, and guys are proud to say they've slept with multiple girls?" Jon asked. Yeah, I was shocked too. But believe it or not, every once in a while my intelligent friends would have smart moments, epiphanies, whatever you want to call them.
"My mom says that's because girls are more 'in-control' of their emotions." I rolled my eyes, and Vince proceeded to speak my thoughts.
"Whatever! Girls' emotions are so fucking unpredictable. One second they're practically loopy they're in such a good mood, and the next everything you say is wrong!"
We waded around in the pool for a few more minutes, trying to out-do each other by doing really cocky, arrogant, and probably dangerous stuff of the diving board. Then we grabbed a basketball from the garage and shot some hoops.
"We're going all the way to State this year, baby," I said, just before I straightened my arms and legs out to sink a three-pointer. Or what I estimated was a three-pointer. It's not like Jon's driveway had the lines painted on it.
"Hell yeah," Jon agreed loudly, jumping up and grabbing the ball. He dribbled it around and added, "First time since...what? 1997?"
"1998," Vince interrupted. He sighed. "My dad won't let me forget that he was a senior the last time we went to State."
I stole the ball from Jon and sunk another shot as I changed the subject. "Are you guys going to the girls' game Monday?"
"Where's it at?"
I thought for a moment then said, "Lawson."
"Well then no shit, of course I'm going." Vince looked at me like I was a retard. "They're our freaking rivals! Everyone's going to go, from both schools! They're supposed to be our girls' biggest competition for State."
"Not to mention their whole team is hot," Jon spat out randomly.
Vince and I turned to look at him, giving him a look that no doubt made him feel stupid. Good. He was sometimes.
"What? We have, like, two hot girls on our team. You can't help but notice, dude." He held up his hands defensively.
"Well," I muttered, dribbling the ball and making another shot, "you can't argue with the truth."
So there's the first chapter (basically the character introduction) of Rules of the Game! Did you like? So I've got an option for readers. On my poll this story actually tied with Three Little Words (the snowboarding one). Do you guys want me to have both stories going with less frequent updates, or do you want me to just do this one for now? Lemme know in a review! (: