For such a fast paced game, there are some odd moments of stillness. The girls on court hummed with adrenaline. I could see the nerves in their faces and tics- one girl’s eyebrows were slightly pulled together, her eyes big and round. Another kept messing with her shorts. Lily was biting her nail, and Audrey kept fixing her hair. The ref placed his whistle in his mouth and tossed the ball in the air. The girls bent their knees farther down, and sprung into the air. The ball spun slightly to the opponents side, and I watched unsurprised as Gabby’s finger only slightly brushed the ball before the other girl slapped it to her point guard. I blinked, and the guard had already scored a lay up.
 

“Get back on defense!” Coach Reed yelled, in a voice that would suggest we had no idea what we were doing until he yelled it out.
 

It’s a little late for that, I thought.
 

I was sitting on the bench, my leg jogging up and down like a five-year-old who had caffeine, waiting for my inevitable task of being put in to make a fool of myself.
 

“What kind of High School Prep Basketball is that?” Reed muttered. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, concentrating intently on a speck on the wall. It looked like a turkey.
 

I did not enjoy playing basketball games- they were too much pressure. I had already spent the morning wishing I didn’t have one. Thinking back, I can almost appreciate the irony. Almost.
 

Oh, crap, I thought as Reed scanned the bench. But he didn’t so much as glance at me. No matter whether I wanted this game to happen or not, something was wrong. He should’ve put me in already.
 

My eyes chased the ball, and I shouted out encouragement to my team in one or two words. Any longer and it would distract them. This team was going to be a tough one- I already had decided I disliked them; they’re attitude was anything but appealing. Every few minutes they started arguing amongst themselves even, and my team kept exchanging looks and choking back giggles. Hostility meant foul trouble though- depending on how things played out, I didn’t know if this would be an advantage or not. When Gabby and Roxie both got scratched and knocked down in the same 45 seconds, I decided it would not be. A vision of us all going out on stretchers filled my inner eye.
 

The clock buzzed at the end of the quarter, displaying a slow but increasing lead on our opponents’ part. Reed wrote on the dry-erase clipboard in his hand with a court drawn on it, instructing a new play with straight, dark lines. If he pressed any harder he was going to need a new pen.
 

“Mimi is going to screen Lily, leaving her open for Audrey to pass her the ball and cut for a lay-up…”
 

So, we aren’t subbing out?
 

“Gabby and Stella, I need you to grab any rebounds. Vida, get ready to sub.”
 

Dang it.
 

The second quarter came and went. My leg was now stationary, and my fists had clenched. My teammates kept giving me worried, sideways glances and asking if I’d been in. I was glad to be so memorable. At least I wasn’t alone- Claire hadn’t been in either. That raised my self-esteem a bit; I saw Claire as an amazing ball handler.
 

“Todd, are you going to sub Cameron in?” Gabby asked tentatively. The other players on the bench didn’t look over, but I could feel them listening. Unfortunately it was about the third question regarding my current dilemma.
 

“The next person who mentions anyone or themselves getting subbed in will not be subbed,” Reed answered harshly.
 

Big difference.
 

In the moment, I hadn’t noticed a change in Reed. He never had liked it when we mentioned getting subbed in. But that day had been different- the fact that he was meaner tells me he felt regret.

  The spectators were squished between the out-of-bounds line and the wall, barely able to fit chairs. They cheered as they always did- not many voices, but with so much enthusiasm and little breaks that you could mistaken it for more. The dim light reflected off the dusty floor, and every noise bounced off the walls, which just so happened to usually be the ball. So the ball bounced off the floor, and it’s sound bounced off the walls. I giggled to myself.

  “What’s so funny?” someone to the side of me asked.

  “Nothing,” I answered, shaking my head. I had to be ready to handle the ball.
 

I looked to the white-tiled ceiling, then to the boring white-painted brick walls. My mind soon became numb to my surroundings. I wished there was a window in this gym. When there are, the sunlight streams in and lifts my spirits. It puts the game in perspective- sure, we may lose, but it’s beautiful outside and we can just enjoy the game. We might as well have been in a dungeon in this gym.
 

One of the other team’s players walked by, choking on sobs. I stumbled back into reality, spotting a jagged cut down her hand.

  “What happened?”
  “Weren’t you paying attention?”
  Hmmm. No...no, not really.
 

I looked to the court to see a worried look on Stella’s face melt into sheepish amusement. She talks loud enough for me to hear her from the sidelines.

  “Her hand got caught on my braces! She kept saying I bit her, but they got caught on my braces!”
 

I hoped she felt better, even though I didn’t like her. I glanced to the refs, but they didn’t seem to be all that worried, so I assumed they believed Stella or saw it themselves.

Gosh darn it! I wanted the refs to believe Stella, but if she was benched I might’ve had a chance to play!
 

HA! Yeah, right, Cam. That wasn’t going to happen and you know it. The devil in my head snickered.
 

Yeah...I know. I slumped into my chair. My fists clenched again and I felt my gaze turn cold. Regardless of whether I was good or not, Reed already made it clear he thought I was the lowest on the team. He didn’t have to put salt in the wound.

Gabby subbed out and slumped down beside me, giving Reed a brief, harsh glance he didn’t notice. She looked just as defeated as I felt. I glanced at the score. Our opponents’ points were still steadily climbing, while ours barely moved. No wonder she was upset, especially considering what a hard time Reed must’ve been giving everyone on the court. Audrey looked about ready to scream.

“You should be in. You should’ve been in for the whole 2nd quarter at least. Why won’t Todd put you in?” She said, frustration lacing her voice. I looked up, surprised, and saw her looking intently at the opposite wall, as if it would answer her. She turned to me, her eyes searching.

I thought we both knew the answer to that. Could it be that maybe Reed’s reality has influenced mine a little too much? Could I be a good player in Gabby’s reality?
 

I was too overwhelmed to think about it. I glanced at Todd, and the co-coach, John. Nope, obviously John wasn’t going to do crap about the situation. Maybe he was just scared of Todd- I could understand that. If I wasn’t, I would’ve punched him in the face already and walked out of the gym.

The buzzer rang. The game was over. Reed’s frustrated expression turned to defeat. I had no sympathy for him. We high-fived the other team, grabbed our things to make room for the players in the next game, and changed our shoes in the corner of the gym. Claire hurriedly threw on her other shoes and ran out, crying. I didn’t want to be seen doing that, but I couldn’t promise anything- my mind was filled with a hurricane of emotions. A moment of awkward silence descended. No one looked at him, but I could feel hate from all the players radiating towards Todd. He began to speak, again harsher than usual. I tuned most of it out, but I did manage to catch one thing Reed said.

“This is basketball, and I’m going to play who I need to to win the game. If you don’t agree with this you can go play rec.” Rec was the usual team- recreational. My brain did a backflip trying to get his meaning, or any sliver of understanding, as the hurricane in my mind turned to red hot anger.
 

So this matters to you more than feelings?! You’d rather win, and go away with your team, your players, the ones you were supposed to protect and mentor in the end, crying, than lose and play all of us?
 

That was it. I had never understood this man and I never would. I could see the sides of people like Justin Bieber and Maleficent , but not Reed Dowelth. He would never change.

How could a game ever be worth this much?
 

My breathing came shallow, and my arms wrenched my Uggs on so forcefully it was like they were battling bulls. My family swarmed me, speaking in soft, tentative voices. I wish they would ignore me so I didn’t have to keep talking. I wasn’t going to be able to hold this in much longer- Todd was an earthquake, and a tsunami was about to hit. I wouldn’t let that happen in front of people, but especially not Tom. All I wanted him to see from me was anger.
 

I staggered to the car, weighted down by my duffel. When I was in the car, my dam couldn’t hold anymore. My eyes were blurry, and tears were silently covering my face, but my mother still noticed. My face flushed with embarrassment, but that didn’t even briefly pause the flow.

The next practice I was putting everything about that day but my hate out of my mind. Claire had switched to rec, and man, did I want to follow suit. I didn’t want to show Todd I’d let anyone push me around. But I was not going to back down, I’m too stubborn. Somehow I felt he would be happy if I left, and I wouldn’t let that happen.
 

Plan your revenge. Once in awhile that little devil and I can see eye to eye on things.
 

John pulled each player aside during practice, and I was surprised when he mentioned the game when it was my turn.
 

“I know you must’ve been unhappy about it, but I think you handled it very maturely.”
 

UM...EXCUSE ME?! HOW WOULD YOU HAVE HANDLED IT? I’M ASHAMED ABOUT HOW I HANDLED IT, BUCKO! I SHOULD’VE THROWN A CHAIR AT HIM-
 

That would’ve been irrational, Cam.
 

SO IS TALKING TO THE DEVIL ON YOUR SHOULDER LIKE IT ISN’T YOUR CONSCIOUSNESS, BUT YOU’RE DOING THAT!
 

Where my emotions had been a hurricane, now they turned into a war field where you couldn’t tell who was who, and what was happening. Luckily, where my emotional side failed, my logical side excelled. It managed a thank you and a blank face. John continued, and I sat through politely, nodding when appropriate.
 

Plan your revenge.
 

I had found my new basketball face, my new war face. One that some would mistake as arrogance or indifference, but I would always know it comes from caring too much.
 

Plan your revenge. Plan your revenge!
 

In this game, skill is important, but so is manipulation. Causing others to think you are confident could shake them up, making them play insecurely the whole game, and a game they should’ve won will be my team’s for the taking. And if one thing was for sure, I was going to beat Reed at his own game. One day, he was going to regret what he did. One day he was going to lose to this face and wonder how he didn’t see me as he will then.