“Is that it, you're just back on the team?” I feel his glare consume me as he tries to piece together my expression. It isn’t until I meet his eyes that he knows the truth. The message passes through me wordlessly, both guilt and pride blazing from my frame as I look down on my younger brother. Grant must sense that Will understands the full picture now as he somehow is right behind my brother with his massive hand on his shoulder. “You took my captain spot?” Will’s voice is riddled with betrayal. Even Olivia flinches at his tone. The entire group has gone silent all watching to see what will happen next.
“Calm down man, it’s just a game,” Grant’s hushed tone meant to be calming but coming off afraid.
“Just a game?” Will’s hands ball Grant’s shirt pulling him tightly to him. “He stole my seat as captain and you’re telling me to calm down. He fucking left. He gave that seat up.”
“We’re sharing it,” I say firmly, my eyes laser focused on Will. “The spot— we are sharing it.” I let out a breath.
I see Olivia shift uncomfortably, and she seems to have schooled her expression to appear bored, but the way she seems to almost rhythmically tap her fingers together indicates she’sas worried as the rest of the audience. Finally, Grant, who seemingly has had enough, gently plucks Will’s hands from his shirt. Will may be strong and large, but Grant is stronger and larger, and Will knows it.
“This is fucking unbelievable.” Will growls.
“Let’s get a drink, calm you down a bit.” Grant now has Will by the arm, forcibly moving him through the crowd. A couple paces in, Will shakes him off stomping forward to the bar. The crowd seems to watch for a moment longer before Andy breaks the silence.
“Now thatthatis over, is anyone up for a game of flip cup?” A few people get up to go to the long fold out table to our right while others pick up where they left off in their conversations. I quickly realize it’s only Olivia and I who are still standing there looking at Will.
“That was some show. Do you always steal other’s dreams and aspirations, Cabot?” Olivia looks at me slyly, seemingly unbothered by Will storming off. My adrenaline is still running high. A few years ago I would’ve brought Will to the ground in front of everyone if he had put his hands on Grant like that. I’d have purposefully shown him his place in front of everyone just to knock him down a peg.
“That depends, has Will been dreaming about you lately?” It comes out before I can stop it and instantly I regret what I said. I know it’s wrong, I know that I’m just repeating the cycle that is my damaged relationship with my brother.
Olivia’s eyes widen only slightly. I caught her off guard and the only proof is the heat that has now risen above her cleavage and up her neck. She takes a couple paces forward, closing the space between us. Her fingers flick to my shoulder brushing off an invisible piece of lint and then moving down to lightly press against my chest. The knot in my stomach has made its way into my throat. Tingles multiply up and down the trunk of mybody. She stands taller, bringing herself up to her tiptoes, she whispers, “I should get back to my boyfriend.”
My stomach drops as if I threw myself off a thirty story building. I feel cold sweat form at my temple. Not even twenty feet away, three beautiful women are giggling at the idea of taking me back to their dorms and yet here I am entranced and gutted by a girl who I can never have. She walks toward the bar turning at the last minute to peer back at me with a smile that disorients me.
“Don’t forget we’re studying at your place Friday.”
With that she disappears into the crowd.
11
Ben
The sky is black as I walk toward the gym. It’s 5:30 a.m. as I chug my protein pre-workout coffee, hoping the caffeine gives me a much needed boost at my first practice back. Lucky for me, Coach typically sits this one out, doing game scheduling and play making with the assistant coaches, while the captain, or I guess nowcaptains, take the team through speed drills. I walk in and almost everyone’s already there warming up. I spot Will, immediately making my way towards him. I’ve thought a lot over the course of the past few days about how I hope our partnership can go. We both take basketball more seriously than anything else in our lives and I doubt he wants me to get in the way of it just as much as I don’t want him to.
His eyes acknowledge me as I reach him.
“Yo,” he says, stretching his hamstring.
“Hey— so I was thinking we could lead the team through some basic drill conditioning. Maybe a few passing drills too?” I move to the mat beside him attempting to do some calf stretches.
“Sorry man, we’re doing shooting drills.” He says it dismissively as if I’m merely suggesting something. As if I’m a second string power forward and not the leading point guardand co-captain of this team. I bite the inside of my cheek trying to be cognizant of the fact that Will has been running the team the past few years I’ve been out and he hasn’t done a bad job. Granted, they’ve only won one championship, but they’ve still been in the top 5 college teams every year.
“I think it may be more beneficial, since it’s the start of the season, to get in touch with the basics.” I try to hone my tone into one that will be more palatable, knowing how easy it is to set Will off when it comes to how to best play this game.
“Youmight need to get back ‘in touch’ with the basics, considering you haven’t played on a team in years,” Will says, his tone mocking, “but I think the rest of us are ready to drill half court shots.”
I feel my eyes narrow and I try the breathing techniques as I move through my stretches. I know that I spent the entire time I stayed at Pop’s training, but Will doesn’t. I would constantly pick up games at the local gym, playing against anyone who was able. Lucky for me, Pop’s gym was one of the best in the metro Boston area and numerous athletes trained there.
“Of all the shooting drills to do, you think half court is what we should be spending our time on?” My tone is incredulous and Will's frustration is coming off him in waves.
“Brothers, brothers,” Andy chimes in trying to use humor to get us to calm down. “You’re in luck, because I have the perfect idea for this conditioning practice.” Will and I both roll our eyes, used to Andy’s typically idiotic ideas. “A scrimmage.”
Will's eyes light up as he glances at me, trying to gauge what I think of the idea. I shift on to my feet, frustrated that we aren’t going to do the drills I think would be most valuable. But a scrimmage would be fun, and what better way to show Will how hard I’ve been training than to publicly kick his ass.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this Andy but, good idea.” I nod toward Will. “You want first pick of teams?” Wills eyes dance, loving the idea of getting to compete.
“Nah bro— why don’t you pick first? You need that home field advantage.” He winks, patting my chest before kicking up a nearby basketball, dribbling it once before shooting a perfectly arched 3 pointer. Grant lets out a low whistle.
“Line up boys— we’re starting,” I yell, getting the team's attention, instantly in game mode.
