Max
We were on the bus to Lawson for the second game of Districts when Maddie finally noticed. She was sitting back in her seat, eating sour Gummy Worms, when suddenly I found her leaning forward and looking over my shoulder.
"What?" I asked, trying to nonchalantly put my phone screen-down in my lap. I looked up to see Maddie grinning mischeviously, and for a moment she looked exactly like her little brother, who I'd had to pick up after Maddie crashed her car last year.
"Who's Fang?" she asked in a dorky voice. She still stayed quiet, though, which I appreciated. I sighed. I knew Maddie didn't take no for an answer. Never had, never would.
"Remember the Nicholas guy I had to return the license to yesterday?" I asked.
"The hot one you didn't introduce me to?" Maddie verified. "Then yes. I remember him."
"That's Fang. We're kinda sorta talking." I looked down, not wanting Maddie to see my face.
"But Max!" she cried suddenly, still quiet enough that nobody looked over at us. "He goes to Bishop. You and I both know how much of a fail that would be." She stopped, trying to think of something to compare it to. "It'd be almost as bad as-"
My phone rang, interrupting her, and I was relieved. Until I saw that it was Tyler. Because I hadn't spoken to Tyler since Fang and I had set a time and place for our maybe-date, and because, despite the fact that Tyler and I were split, we'd always been kind of flirty, even after the breakup.
"Hello?" I finally answered.
"Hey, Max," Tyler said. I could hear his annoyingly loud piece-of-crap truck in the background. "I just wanted to let you know I'd be at your game tonight."
"What?" I replied. It sounded kind of like a croak. "Why?"
"'Cause I haven't seen you play since last year's Sectionals. I'll see you there, okay?" And then he hung up.
Ooooooooh, crap.
XxX
"Don't worry about it, Max," said Maddie while we were standing in the locker room. I'd explained the whole situation to her, and she knew I was anxious. Possibly because I was messing with my tape and hopping up and down and just flat-out fidgeting way more than I usually do.
"I'm not," I lied.
"Girls," Jeb called from outside the locker room, "warm ups on. You can go out now."
My stomach dropped as we pulled the warm ups on over the new "badass" uniforms and lined up by the door.
We ran out and kept my eyes on the ball rack across the gym. I didn't want to see either of them, not in the same setting.
Even though, when it came down to what I knew about Tyler, Fang would always be the one I picked. No matter what he'd done or his mistakes. Tyler just had to have far more.
Fang
I'm not even gonna get started on how awkward this situation was for me. Okay, I lied. I am.
Max's team was playing my school's team and, although I'd only known her for a few days, I didn't want to ruin anything with Max by being associated with my screaming, rowdy student section. But I also didn't want to just barge into their student section and be called a traitor by mine.
So you see my dilemma. Oh, you've gotta love how seriously everybody takes high school rivalries.
Finally I settled on just leaning against the wall by the door, that way I had a clear view of the game, and nobody would be unhappy with who I was supporting.
The teams came out and I found Max, who kept her gaze locked on the ball rack. She was always so serious during a game, sometimes it was intimidating.
I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall, watching the teams warm up. I noticed that Max shot weird. Usually guys have more power in just their arms, so they could just straighten their arms. Girls usually had to hop a little to get that extra power. But Max, like, jumped. It was weird, but whatever works, I guess...
Both teams went back to remove their warm ups, and then they did the national anthem and all that, and then they got lined up for the jump ball.
Max was facing me, but definitely not looking at me. She was in position, ready for the jump ball, and her eyes watched the ball hungrily, even though the ref still had it firmly in his grasp. As the ref got ready she popped her knuckles, and the game started.
I knew the girl on our team who was going for the jump ball. She was a redhead named Brigid, who I'd hooked up with the summer before junior year. She was a total bitch, and I'd never seen her miss a jump ball. Of course, I found it hard to imagine Max missing a jump ball too. So it was pretty silent in the gym when the ref threw the ball up.
Brigid got the ball over to K.T. (her name was Katee, but she liked to seem cool by just using two letters to spell it), who started off at a steady jog toward the hoop at the opposite end of the court. She, being a ball hog, shoved right through a pack of Nixon girls and went for the shot. It bounced off the rim and two quick hands grabbed it, a dark-haired Nixon girl.
"Here, here!" I heard Max call, jogging backward and about at the half court area. The dark-haired girl threw it to her, and then Max was sprinting toward the hoop, not half-assing it. She jumped up and sunk the ball through the net in what could almost be called a dunk, but she didn't hold on to the rim.
I tried to get her attention, to mouth, "Good shot," or something, but she just used her arm to wipe her forehead and accepted a shoulder-pat from another girl on the team.
She wasn't going to lose any focus.
XxX
Nixon won with a buzzer beater. An impossible, amazing, impressive buzzer beater.
There were seven seconds left and the score was tied, and Max was running toward the hoop with the ball, her face red and sweaty. Brigid bumped into Max's side in a desperate attempt to get the ball, and Max went down with Brigid right behind her. Both their hands scrambled for the ball, but a Nixon girl got it and, in the last two seconds, sent the ball through the hoop.
Damn Brigid. She'd never been a fair player. Not that I could really say much better for myself, but still. Girls' basketball was so freakin' agressive. Guys just depended on shots and stuff, but girls were on the floor practically wrestling for the ball about three fourths of the time.
My school's team left the court upset, Nixon's student section chanting, "Na na na na, na na na na, hey hey hey, goodbye." I guess it was routine.
A few Nixon girls helped Max up, and I noticed she winced when she put weight on her left leg. I hoped her ankle wasn't hurt or anything. I'd never gotten seriously hurt in basketball, but judging from what Max had told me over texts, she was unlucky when it came to injuries.
Max swiped her ponytail to the side, adjusting to her sore leg, and her eyes skimmed the bleachers. She finally saw me by the door, and half-grinned at me. I gave her a thumbs up.
"Hey, Fang," somebody said, and I looked away from Max to see Brigid in front of me.
"Hi," I replied, hoping she'd just go away. But of course she didn't. Ever since that stupid little hookup junior year, she wouldn't leave me the hell alone.
"So what're you doing Saturday?" she asked.
"I've got a game," I said. Not a lie, technically.
"I was talking about after the game," Brigid explained, smiling at me flirtatiously.
And then, thank the Lord, her coach hollered for her to go back. I said goodbye, thankful that she couldn't say no to her coach. Even though the best they'd be doing at Districts was third, depending on their game Friday.
Max's team would take either first, which would get them through to Sectionals, or second.
I waited near the locker room for Max to come out, and by the time she did most of my friends were gone. Which was good. I'd gotten enough shit for the pink Sharpie yesterday, and I didn't need them to know that it was from a Nixon girl.
"Nice game," I told Max when she came out, wearing baggy black sweats and a Nixon hoodie. I was surprised when she hugged me. It was just a short little hug, but it definitely still caught me off guard.
"Thanks."
"Did you hurt your leg?" I asked, suddenly remembering her wince when she put weight on her leg. I furrowed my eyebrows, and Max blushed.
"No, it's fine. I just pulled a muscle in my hip, but it's nothing major."
"In your hip? Is that even possible?"
"I guess so," Max laughed.
"Maxie girl," called one of the Nixon girls by the door. She was short with curly black hair, and I guessed this was the best friend Max had told me about. Maddie.
"Coming," Max called. She looked back to me apologetically. "I've gotta go."
"Will I see you at my game tomorrow?" I asked. She told me that her little brother played varsity ball, so I figured she'd be coming to all the guys' games this week too.
"Not tomorrow, nope. I've got a lot of homework to catch up on, and a big test to study for. But I'll see you Friday?"
"I'll be there," I assured her.
"Okay." Max smiled the tiniest bit, gave me another little hug, and jogged outside to catch the bus.
She was gorgeous. And amazing at basketball. And a flat-out great girl.
But what would my friends say?
Hmm...not my best chapter. But oh well. Reviews? Pretty please with pickles on top?
I'm going to go set up a poll right now to vote on what story I should start after I finish up this one. I know it'll be a long time before I need to worry about that, but I want you guys to have plenty of time to vote, plus I don't want to forget my ideas. So check that out and vote, please! Everything will be on my profile. :)