BRYDEN (MOUNTAIN)
I’ve been up for the last hour but haven’t moved. The blinds are cracked just enough to let the gray light bleed through. It paints thin bars across the ceiling, broken up by the slow sweep of shadows from swaying branches. My phone buzzes on the nightstand, but I don’t reach for it right away.
I should be up. Mondays are light for me with no classes scheduled, so I generally take that time getting in more practice. By now, I’d already be dressed, taped, and halfway through drills before the rest of the campus opens their eyes. But not today.
Today, I’m trying something new.
Resting… or having a slow morning, as the girls call it. It’s a rarity for me, or a miracle depending on who you ask. My mother would say “about time.” Alex and Kane would think I’d been abducted by aliens. And that’s exactly why I haven’t gone into the kitchen to make my morning protein shake. They’ll never let it go, making a bigger deal out of it than it is.
You don’t become the best by lying around. No, you do that with discipline and routine.
When I finally sit up, the sheets fall heavily off my chest. I rub a hand over my face and reach for the phone. There’re several notifications—a string from the team chat, one from the groupchat I share with Alex and Kane, spam texts, and an email. The most recent of them is a text from Kai.
Lil Bro:Game Request. Basketball.
My lips twitch. Not a smile, not really, more like muscle memory than anything else.
Bryden:Good morning to you too, lil bro.
Another buzz hits before I can even lock the screen.
Lil Bro:First to 20. Loser owes Steambucks.
This kid wakes up like he’s been shot out of a cannon after downing a gallon of energy drinks.
And of course, the prize is only something he would want, but I know he looks forward to these games. It’s how we stay connected with me being away at college. The reservation isn’t too far away, but it was much easier for me to move in here with the boys instead of commuting in every day. And much cheaper than room and board on campus.
Bryden:You’re going down.
Lil Bro:In your dreams, big head.
What does that even mean?I smirk.
Lil Bro:
Wow. At least that one, I get. He’s GOATed.
I tap the link, and the game loads. It’s our favorite. You get thirty seconds to get as many shots as possible. I swipe the screen, sinking the first shot. Then four. Then twelve. And with ten seconds left on the clock, I move at a snail’s pace, making only one in that time. And then the round is over.
A minute later, Kai texts again.
Lil Bro:You can’t see me.
Lil Bro:(Breakdancing gif)
He claimed twenty shots to myseventeen.
Bryden:Dang. You got me.
Lil Bro:
I stare at the screen for a second, lips twitching again. The dancing gif is still looping at the top of the thread. I click on the pay icon beneath the message thread, and key in twenty-five with no hesitation and send it. The transaction sends, the total staring back at me boldly.
I can already see his reaction. And it’s not lost on me that he’ll probably blow through this before I set my phone down. No reply ever comes, but I don’t expect it to. I toss the device on the pillow next to me and grab my laptop from the spot beneath it.
There’re a few weeks before nationals roll around, and since I’m not doing anything else, I decide to review the opposingteam’s game footage. We’ve played Westover before and they were easy wins, but you can never be too careful. They’re going to pull out their best stops to take nationals home, so I want to be prepared. If there’s a weakness, I need to know it. A strength, I need to be ready for it.
My phone rings again, and I turn my gaze to read it. I set the computer across my lap and reach for it.
