We had sixty seconds to get control of the ball. Sixty seconds to make up that three point deficit. If we accomplished that, then we'd win the game. We would surprise everyone by beating our cross-town rivals, the Wolves.
Maybe a win against them would finally cause their crowd from yelling 'Trojan Man! Warm sensation condoms!' throughout the entirety of our games. Yes, we were the Trojans, but it was the Helen of Troy, Paris, and Trojan Horse type of Trojans. Not something guys used to wrap it up to prevent unwanted surprises. It was getting old, not to mention unoriginal, and just rubbed me the wrong way. I guess it was somewhat of a pet peeve of mine.
But I couldn't dwell on that. I had a game to finish, a game to win. I wanted to prove that we were the better team. One that won with hard work and determination. Not because we went to the "cake eater" school that recruited the best players from all over the state. They may have had the players that one might see play in the WNBA, but we had the heart. And to me, that was the key component of a winning team.
The buzzer sounded, signaling the time out the Wolves called had expired. I, along with the rest of my team, put one of our hands in the middle of our huddle, and let out a loud call of "Troy!" that came from our hearts. The five girls, including myself, that were to finish up the game, headed back out onto the court, all while Coach Wilson shouted words of encouragement.
"Ready, Elly?" my fellow senior, and co-captain, Kia asked.
"I'm ready to kick some canine ass, if that's what you're asking," I replied as I prepared to get back into my zone.
Kia smirked as we took our positions on the hardwood - her to guard the player throwing in the ball into play from the sidelines, while I, being one of the taller members of the team, proceeded to guard my opponent near the net. I was more than ready to get physical if the need presented itself.
I gave my ponytail one final tug, making sure my medium length blonde hair was tightly secure. I then double checked the elastic headband atop my head that held my bangs from entering my line of vision and becoming a distraction. Once satisfied that my hair wouldn't cause any unnecessary problems, I got into my defensive stance.
My knees were bent with my arms out as I made sure I was in between my opponent and the player with the ball. I was a deadly force when it came time for defense - not that I was conceited or anything. I was just known to go for the ball at any cost. Subsequently, I was also the leading player in the conference, and team, when it came to the amount of successful steals. That meant the pressure was on me to get the ball away from the enemy.
To sum it up, I pretty much held the result of the game in my hands.
The referee blew his whistle and immediately after, the ball was thrown into play. I kept my eyes locked on the ball, like an predator watching it's prey, while my hands constantly brushed against the player's jersey. It didn't help that they were playing smart by keeping the ball away from the area I was in. The only downfall in that game plan was that I had been guarding their star shooter. She was the one they looked to for making last minute shots. Especially when the pressure was on. They had a tough decision to make - toss the ball to someone else, and pray they make the shot, or they could risk passing the ball to Taylor, the girl I was defending.
I snuck a glance at the scoreboard mounted high on the wall. Forty seconds.
In the time I had taken my eyes off the orange, rounded object, Taylor had freed herself from my defensive barrier and gained control of the ball. In what seemed like a blink of an eye, she had taken aim and launched off a shot at the basket. The only thing I could do at that moment was box out any Wolves players around me, and pray to the God of basketball that she missed. A rebound on our part would've helped us catch up to them.
My silent prayers were answered. The ball hit the backboard, bouncing back towards me. Thanking God for my height - I was five foot eight -, I jumped into the air, catching the ball in my outstretched hands.
My body and movements were auto pilot the moment I felt the coolness of the rubber covering the ball. I immediately looked down court and saw Cori, another senior co-captain, already near our own three-point line. I threw the ball to her with as much force as I could muster, just before my feet landed back on the hardwood floor. I followed the herd as they ran down the court to try to catch Cori, but I stayed back, ready to return to defense, in enemy territory. Break away plays were Cori's specialty. She never missed.
Our own section of fans, decked out to the max in red and white, erupted into boisterous cheers as Cori brought us within one point of the Wolves' lead.
With my girls back on defense in a snap, we gave each other quick high-fives. We knew our rivals wouldn't waste any time dribbling the ball down court. They'd charge ahead at full speed.
Instead, they threw us for a loop. Instead of putting the ball into play as fast as they could, they made their way towards us slowly. I knew we should've pressed, but we wanted to play a little on the safer side. I knew then that that decision was the wrong one. All they had to do was play keep away from us until the final buzzer sounded.
I was scared at that point. Their passes to each other were sharp and crisp. It was almost impossible to find a way to swipe the ball away from them. Time on the clocked seemed to fly, and I was about to give up the last shred of hope I had in me.
It was with under ten seconds left that I found our miracle. The pass they attempted near me wasn't as high or quick enough to get past me. Grabbing it in midair, I raced down the court as fast as my tired legs could run to our basket. There was no one around me, and I knew that my chances of making a lay-up before time ran out was nonexistent.
I came to a stop just within my shooting range, with two seconds left on the clock. The noise level in the gymnasium was eerily silent. I doubted anyone breathed, and if someone dropped a pin, I would've heard it. I lined up my shot, and launched the ball towards the net that seemed farther away than it ever seemed before. I watched helplessly as it soared towards the net.
The buzzer sounded as it hit the rim. With baited breath, I watched as it spun around the edge once, twice, until it dropped.
But it didn't go through the net.
The gym went from absolute silence to deafening decibels in no time flat, as the Wolves' supporters broke out into celebratory yells. I could hear our rivals cheering behind me. I didn't miss the silent, solemn looks from our own cheering section out of the corner of my eye.
As I stared at the net, the pressure behind my eyes built. I desperately tried to hold in the tears, even though all I wanted to do was curl into a ball and cry until I had no tears left in me.
And I couldn't help but feel that it was entirely my fault.
"I'll say this one more time to you all," Coach Wilson said as he stood in front of us. We were back in the locker room, after shaking hands with the other team, receiving our usual post-game speech from Coach. "I am proud of you girls. You held your own in a well fought game, against a team that has dominated this conference for far too long. You should hold you heads up high," I noticed his attention was focused on me at that point. He knew very well how hard I took a loss. Especially when I blamed myself for it. "Get some sleep tonight. Just because you played a hell of a game, doesn't mean I'm going to go easy on you during practice tomorrow afternoon. Everyone put their hands in."
All twelve of us put one of our hands into the middle of the circle we created. It was a tradition after every game - no matter if we won or lost - that we said our, for lack of better word, cheer. According to Coach, we were his Twelve Musketeers. We all formed a tight and unbreakable bond, and became a sisterhood. We stuck together, and had each other's backs if one of us needed it. Once Coach counted to three, we raised our hands in the air as we yelled, "All for one, and one for all." Sure, it was cheesy; but it was the truth.
Coach gave out one final reminder about the mandatory practice the next day, and left the locker room to allow us to shower and change. I collapsed onto the bench by my locker, elbows resting on my knees while I held my head in my hands. No matter how many times Coach tried to make us - or more specifically - me, feel better about our efforts in a game, I would still feel like shit. It wasn't that I was a sore loser, I had dealt with losses numerous times before. It was just that loss. That specific game hit me on a more personal level than any others.
"Quit your moping, skank," I heard come from my left, as I felt another person sit on the bench beside me. I knew who it was the moment they called me 'skank'. The comment came from none other that the fourth - and final - senior co-captain, Brooklynn. And although the other three and I were a pretty tight knit foursome, stemming from the years of basketball we played together, Brooklynn and I just happened to be best friends.
"Not now, Brookie-Cookie," I muttered, not bothering to raise my head from where it was.
"Yes, now, Jelly-Belly," she said without hesitation. I groaned as I raised my head, knowing it was no use to fight her, and looked at her. "That's better. Now, want to tell me why the hell you look like shit? You had an amazing game tonight, you should be bouncing off the walls."
"I missed that shot," I whispered. "And because I missed, we lost. If I had been two steps, two steps, closer, I would've made it. We would've won, Brooke. The past four years I've played high school ball, I wanted to beat them. Just once; that's all I needed. I just wanted to prove that they weren't the best."
"I did too. But we only lost by one point. That's an accomplishment in itself. Besides, we'll get them in the playoffs."
"I guess you're right," I replied, feeling a little better. Brooklynn always knew what to say to make me feel better when I was too hard on myself. "I'd love to knock them out of the road to State."
"I'm always right," she said, nudging my shoulder with hers. "It's why I get straight A's, bitch."
"Oh, shove it," I sad, getting up and heading for the showers. I desperately needed to rid myself of the grimy feeling after the intense game.
Fifteen minutes later, I walked out of the locker room, clad in a basketball sweatshirt and matching sweatpants that were tucked into my Uggs. My hair was a darker shade of blonde when I exited, since it was still damp from the shower. I continually tousled it with my fingers, trying to help it dry a little faster. I was starting to feel the beginning stages of fatigue set in. Normally, I'd have been able to drive home and immediately dive headfirst into my sinfully comfortable bed. Instead, I was going over to Brooklynn's for the usual Friday night sleepover, along with Cori and Kia.
In desperate need of some caffeine, I made my way over to the vending machine in the school commons. Dropping my duffle bag on the ground, I fished out a dollar and twenty-five cents and inserted it into the machine. After pressing the desired button, I grabbed the soda bottle that was dispensed. Unscrewing the cap, I took a long, satisfying of the Mountain Dew. I gave out an uncontrollably loud moan of delight at the sugary, tooth-rotting goodness.
"I'm not too sure if I want to know what's going on over here. It sounds like you're having a mini orgasm," a voice whispered in my ear, causing me to inhale my drink and send it down the wrong tube. Coughing uncontrollably, I tried my best to glare at the person that startled me. Low and behold, it was Robb, my other best friend.
"Jesus Christ, Robbie. Don't do that!" I shoved, or rather, tried to shove him. Being a basketball player on the guys' team for our school, he was in shape. Great shape actually; enough to cause me to blush. So it was difficult to shove him further than a couple inches. "And what's with your 'mini orgasm' comment?"
"Well, it just sounded like a more subdued version of the moans that came out of your mouth when we did the deed," he smirked, looking me dead in the eye. Then he let out a small round of laughter. "Man, Elly, you were loud. Never would have pegged you as a screa--"
"Okay, okay! I get it!" I interrupted. "Can you say it any louder? I don't think China heard you."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he said. "Don't worry your pretty little head off. I haven't said anything to anyone about our little sex-capades. You know me better than that, Elly."
"I know, I know. And I'm really glad you're not like that. I appreciate it," I smiled. Looking past him, I saw his group of buddies that he would no doubt be hanging out with that night. When my blue eyes caught a glimpse of a non-Trojan amidst them, I freaked. Gasping, I took a hold of Robb's arm and pulled him in front of me to block myself from the group's line of vision. "Shit! Hide me!"
"What the hell, Elly?" he asked, staring at me dumbfounded, but not moving away from me.
"What the fuck is Kam Kendall doing here?" I peaked around Robb's side, watching Kam converse with my basketball boys.
"He's hanging with us later. Why?"
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.
It had been about six years since I had been that close to Kameron Kendall. Sixth grade to be exact. So finally being as near to him as I was, I felt like I was about to have a panic attack. And knowing that Robb and the boys were still good friends with him made the situation worse for me. It was pathetic, really. Because, even though we hadn't been in that close of a range of each other, he was the one that haunted my thoughts and dreams for thirteen years of my life.
"Did I ever mention that Kam was my first ever crush?" I asked him. "Oh, and that I've liked him since kindergarten?!"
The only thing worse than experiencing unrequited love for that many years, was the fact the Kam was a Wolf. As in our rivals. I figured it had to have been against some type of unwritten Trojan Law for us to be together. It would have been a total Romeo and Juliet like situation. We hated them. The Wolves hated us. Any romantic relationships between said rivals could have been seen as treason of some sorts. Especially when it involved athletes. It'd be too easy for one to study the other's strengths and weaknesses of the game, and then report them back to their own teams. Not to mention the act of committing social suicide. Not a single person would want to be associate with the "traitor" of the school.
If I added all the factors together, with the amount of time that lapsed since mine and Kam's last conversation, any potential relationship I might have dreamed of was not in the cards.
Which left me to deal with my emotions myself. And it was a living hell. I was known for being extremely picky with guys. Sure, I had done the dirty with Robb, but it was nothing more. I just wanted to lose it, and I knew Robb wouldn't make a huge deal out of the situation. That agreement had long since expired, and our friendship was as strong as it had been before. He would always, jokingly, ask if I wanted to reconsider the deal because of my extreme pickiness with potential boyfriends. I told him it was "having standards". I knew what I liked and what I wanted. I wouldn't settle for a guy that was anything less than perfect, in my eyes. I wanted what I felt was the best. And if that made me sound like a bitch, so be it.
Judging by the way I reacted to just the sight of Kam, he was the best.
Kam was everything I liked. The dirty blonde hair, that was the perfect balance of brown and blonde. His eyes were like hot chocolate. So smoldering when their gaze was upon you, that you couldn't help but melt. His smile was the only one that was able to make me go weak in the knees. It felt like my knee caps had been replaced with jell-o, and not able to support my weight. Oh my Lord, his body. His body could make David Beckham take a walk of shame. The eight-pack abdominal muscles that you could practically see through his more form fitting shirts were enough to make a personal trainer drool. Let alone hormonal teenage girls. He even had that defined 'V' at the bottom of his abs, causing my eyes to wander down. Down to where it could cause an overprotective daddy to pull out the shot gun, and dust it off if his little girl stared too long. And his legs. With calf muscles almost as defined as his abs, I finally understood why guys could find legs so attractive.
But it wasn't only his physical appearance that attracted me to him. His personality was second to none. While he did have his arrogant jock moments, he had those truly sincere moments too. It was why he had so many friends. He just seemed to get along with everyone. No one could hate him. And if someone did, they had no foundation for said hate. He was also the perfect athlete. He was able to find the perfect balance of taking it seriously, yet not overly obsessed. He wasn't in it to just win, win, win. He played because he enjoyed it; because he loved it. He played with heart. Something I admired about him greatly. The way he carried himself with confidence oozing out of his pores, one couldn't help but feel confident also. Then there was the way his brown eyes met my blue, making it impossible to look away. Even as the corner of his mouth turned up into a grin, and ---
Shit. He caught me staring.
Oh shit, shit, shit! Not wanting to be the stalker, I was on the verge of becoming, I whipped my head back from the open, and back to the protection Robbie's body provided. I just hadn't factored in how close I was to the vending machine. So, with my luck, I banged my head against the glass window. Hard. One would assume that I'd have been the one to react first, but I wasn't. It was Robb.
"Holy shit! Elly! Are you okay?" He gently grabbed my head, feeling around for any possible bump.
I looked up at him, confusion clouding my eyes, wondering what in the world he was talking about. And then I felt it. A sharp stinging feeling, which soon turned into a constant throbbing. "Ooowwwww," I moaned, placing my hand atop of Robb's. "Son of a bitch. That hurt like a mother fu--"
"Hey," a third voice spoke.
I froze. It was not happening. It couldn't be. But when I looked up, and saw those warm, brown eyes, I knew I was sadly out of luck. Because off to the side of Robb, stood the man I had all but drooled over just a few minutes ago.
Kam Kendall. My heart was pounding so fast, and so hard, that I could hear the blood pulsing through me. I wouldn't doubt that Robb was able to hear it too, since he still had his hands in my hair. Still searching for any lump that he might've missed. The air seemed to have been sucked out of me. Like a super vac had come out of nowhere, attached itself to my mouth, and sucked any air I had out of my body. Lightheadedness from the lack of oxygen combined with the now dull, throbbing in my head, wasn't a pleasant combination.
"Is everything okay?" Kam asked when no one acknowledged his appearance.
"Yeah, it will be," Robb answered, removing his hands from my head and standing upright. "Fucking A, Ells. You scared me. On the court, you are as sharp as a tact, and have the mental and physical reflexes I would kill for. Why you have such delayed ones when your off it? It just doesn't make any sense." I rubbed the back of my head, not really paying attention to what he was going on about. I was too busy trying to stay upright in Kam's presence. "See? She still hasn't figured out that I practically just called her slow," Robb commented. I could hear Kam's chuckle, whether it was at the absurdity of Robb's words, or he agreed with him I didn't know.
"I highly doubt that's the case," he said. Well then, maybe it was due to how absurd Robb's comment was. "Good game, Elle. You were sick out there."
Elle. He was one of the only people I had ever allowed to call me by that name. I think it had to do with the fact that people would call me 'Elle Woods' if I let them use Elle instead of Elly. But, for some unknown reason, I let Kam. Must have been the way it sounded with that deep, husky voice that could make me melt into a puddle of goo with just one word. And that word just so happened to be my name.
"Umm, Elle?" Kam asked, slightly concerned. "Are you sure you're okay? Maybe you should go get your head checked. You did have that slight concussion during a game in seventh grade, remember?"
He actually remembered that?! I couldn't believe it. He actually remembered something that happened to me almost five years ago. That was the last straw. I needed to get out of the commons, out of his presence, before I did something utterly embarrassing. Like jump his bones right then and there. Who cared if it was on school grounds? Sometimes you just couldn't control the raging hormones.
"Go.. I... Buh... Got to.. Yeah," I sputtered as I grabbed my duffel bag off the ground and walked away. Or rather, bolted.
All the while, I heard Robb's amused laughter as I walked away. As I reached the doors I heard Robb explain, in a not so quiet tone, "In Elly Kingston speak, that would be 'I have to run because I'm a big chicken shit!"
I flipped him off as I opened the front doors, relishing in the relief I called fresh air.
"Love you too, Screams!"
Oh, I was so going to kill Robb the next time I saw him.
A few hours after the game, I was sitting on Brooke's bed while uploading pictures onto my Facebook account. I couldn't help the smile that crept onto my face as I relieved the memories that were captured forever. I had already located my new profile picture among the ones I uploaded. It was of Brooke and I, alongside her older brothers Brett and Tony, wearing each others' clothes. It was scary how well those boys could pull off women's clothing. Those moments were some of our finer ones, that was for sure.
I stared at the results of a search I had done. The cursor hovered over the add as friend button, as I stared into his eyes of his default picture. I was scared of him denying the request. Loads of what ifs? were running through my head when I heard Brooke's yells.
"Huh?" I asked, looking at my three friends. Cori shook her head, Kia rolled her eyes, and Brooke signed dramatically. Great, what had I missed?
"You didn't hear a word I just said, did you?" Brooklynn asked me. I smiled sheepishly in response, even though she knew the answer. "Ugh, you're lucky I love your ass. What were you doing anyways?"
"Looks like she was filling her guilty pleasure," answered Cori, her pure black hair falling over her shoulders. She looked at me with her intimidating emerald eyes. "And why are you Facebook stalking Kam Kendall?"
"Kam?" Kia questioned. "Damn, girl. Don't even think about turning into some kind of creeper. Just add him for fuck's sake."
"I… I can't," I whispered.
"Why?" Brooklynn spoke up, pulling up her rich brown hair into a ponytail. "It's simple. All it takes is just one itsy bitsy click," she clicked on the add as friend selection and confirmed that I wished to add him. "And presto! Friend request sent."
"Brooke!" I yelled, as she grabbed her Cosmo magazine. I saw her flip to a specific page.
"He's a Cancer, if I remember right," she said when she found the page. "Well, you two would make a pretty good pair. Your love scale is a 9, while your sex scale is an 8. And don't you dare lie and say you wouldn't do him if you had the chance. If I know you as well as I think I do, then you totally would."
"Totally," Cori and Kia repeated in unison.
"Look, I can't talk to the guy without sounding like an idiot, and he'll probably deny the request anyways, so just get any ideas out of your heads. Now," I told them as I got up to pop a movie in, knowing they'd shut their yaps during the film.
But, to my surprise - and utmost joy - a few hours later, my phone vibrated. Showing I had a notification from my Facebook app on my Blackberry Curve, I opened it. My heart felt like it was running a marathon from the way it was beating so rapidly.
Soon, it was March, and that meant basketball playoffs. We easily defeated our opponents and made it to the section championship game. And our opponent happened to be none other that the Wolves.
When halftime rolled around, they had a commanding fifteen point lead. It hadn't helped that I played the first half like complete shit. I couldn't make a basket if my life depended on it. I couldn't sink my free throws, my three-point attempts air balled, and my lane shots bounced off the backboard. The more shots I missed, the more frustrated I became. And the more frustrated I was, the more I missed. It wasn't looking good.
Coach Wilson thought my mistakes were because of nerves. It was the first time in a number of years the girls team made it as far as we had, so we weren't exactly used to the pressure of the game. But I wasn't nervous. I'd been ready for the game since the playoffs began. It was when I noticed Kam in the stands, that my game was off.
I hadn't spoken a word to him since he accepted my friend request. I couldn't count the number of times I had been close to starting a conversation on Facebook Chat, or write on his wall - or something - and chickened out. I guess I was just too afraid that I'd come off stalker like, or weird for trying to restart a friendship with him. But the main reason was because I was afraid of getting my heart broken. Again.
No one, not even Brooklynn or Robb, knew of the one and only guy that was able to overcome my crush on Kam, and consequently put my heart through a shredder. And that was the way I planned on keeping it. But it was because of that one guy, that one fucktard, that caused me to put up that wall around guys I liked. I hated it, but I couldn't help it. I wanted it to be different around Kam.
If working a shift at the local pharmacy and hiding when your first ever crush - who you still like - walked in wasn't pathetic, I didn't know what was. The moment I saw Kam walk into my workplace, clad in his letterman jacket, I actually squeaked out a gasp (it was more on the squeak side than a gasp), and ducked behind my counter. I left my coworker, Steph, to help him out. By the time he left the store, and the pharmacist locked the door after him, my heart was still beating erratically.
"You in love with the guy or something?" the pharmacist asked, stepping up to my counter.
Not able to get anything coherent out of my mouth, I nodded in confirmation. I placed my hand over my heart trying to calm it down, although I knew it wouldn't accomplish anything.
"You haven't talked to him yet, have you?" Steph asked as the pharmacist walked away, laughing to himself.
"No," I softly admitted. "It's not like he feels the same way about me, Steph. Why put myself out there?"
"Look, I know it's tough. I've had just as much luck with guys as you have," she told me. "But I went to school with Kam, and although he's a year younger than me, I know he's a good guy. Give him a chance. You never know, he may just feel the same way."
I walked out into the hall once Coach left us to do whatever we needed to do to prepare ourselves before we went back out onto the court. He knew I paced the hallway before every half. It was a way to clear my head one last time before I got my hands on the ball. I took deep breaths, held them, and then let the air out slowly. I closed my eyes, trying to relax. The moment I did, I saw Kam's face. Groaning, I leaned my back against the lockers in the hallway.
"Get out of my fucking head," I said aloud, while rubbing the heels of my palms into my eyes, as if I could rub Kam's gorgeous face away.
"Having problems focusing?" I heard someone ask. I knew that voice. It didn't belong to just anybody. It belonged to--
"Kam?!" I jerked upright, my silk jersey starting to feel a little too chilly against my skin. "Wh- what are you d-doing here?"
"Well, I am here to watch the game," he smiled, getting closer and closer to me. "And Robb told me you always pace before a half. I've been meaning to talk to you."
"Is it just me, or have you been avoiding me?" he blurted.
"No?" I said, although I came out sounding like a question.
"Really? Because you haven't started a Facebook chat with me. You bail on basketball at the Y with Robb when you find out I'll be there. Hell, I even stopped in at your work because Robb said you were working that night, so maybe, maybe, I could've talked to you without worrying about you disappearing. But that still didn't happen. So yeah, I think you're avoiding me. Why?"
My mouth flapped open and shut as I tried to supply an answer, but failed. I couldn't lie, because everything he said was true. I had been avoiding him, and he'd finally caught me. My fight or flight response was kicking in again, and I was going with the one that always prevailed when it came to Kam: flight.
His hand grasped my arm, not harshly, but with enough force to make me stop and turn around. I could feel the tingles his fingers sent where they met with my skin. Soon his hand fell, only to grasp my own. This time it wasn't just tingles I felt, it was like tiny - bearable - bolts of electricity.
"Stop running, Elly," he whispered, decreasing the space between us, causing the butterflies in my stomach to flutter around like they were on crack.
"I'm not," I told him, surprised my voice was stronger than I thought it'd be, and even more surprised that I hadn't stuttered.
"Good," he said, right before his lips connected with mine.
Stunned by his action, my eyes went wide, and I stayed absolutely still. Not receiving a response, even around a minute later, Kam broke the kiss. Resting his forehead against mine, he kept his eyes closed as he said, "Please, prove to me that Robb wasn't lying when he said you liked me. Otherwise, I just made a complete ass out of myself."
His lips met mine again, and this time I responded. Slowly at first, just to make sure I wasn't actually dreaming and that it was actually happening. Sighing, I finally relaxed in his arms and moved my lips with his. His left hand gripped my waist as his right hand cradled the back of my head as he moved us against the lockers. Raising up on my toes, and connecting my hands at the base of his neck, brought us closer in contact. It was as if I craved the warmth he was radiating.
I let out a tiny gasp when he bit on my lower lip, which allowed his tongue to meet my own. I moaned when I realized he tasted like Kit Kats, my favorite candy bar. He stuck his hand into my hair, as far as my ponytail would allow, when the locker room doors banged open, and the sound of pumped up teammates was heard.
I broke away from him, breathing hard. I couldn't stop the slight giggle that escaped my, probably, slightly swollen lips. I opened my mouth to say something when Coach Wilson spoke up.
"Kingston!" he called, walking back into the gym. "Stop fraternizing and get out for warm ups!"
"Yes, sir!" I replied. Cori and Kia laughed as they noticed I was still in between Kam and the lockers, while Brooklynn mouthed fix the hair!
"So…" Kam started, allowing me some room so I could redo my ponytail. "Feel like going out on a date with a Cake-eater?"
"I don't know," I said, biting my lip. "Feel like kissing a condom?"
Kam smiled that knee weakening smile, and pecked my lips once more before wishing me luck for the game.
I didn't need his luck though. When I saw Kam cheering among the Trojan fans instead of the Wolves, my game was back on. I scored fifteen points, helping my team come from behind and - finally - defeat our biggest rival by a good ten point difference. I got a trip to the State tournament. But most importantly….
I snagged my first crush.
A/N: Unfortunately, "Elly" and "Kam" never got together. In fact, I have yet to talk to him - on Facebook or in person. Some bits are false (the end), loosely based off of actual happenings (ie. the basketball games - those ended up being the boys' team.. Our girls team sucked, and I was forced to quit after injuries. So I didn't get to play my senior year), and real (the work part, etc). I had dreamt about certain things involving Kam, and I knew if I didn't get something written, I would have gone insane.
Sorry there hasn't been an update for YBWM in forever. My birthday was on the 20th, so I was in complete Birthday Mode. I couldn't really concentrate on anything else, especially since it was my 21st. In the U.S., it meant I was LEGAL to go out and drink, so it was kind of a big deal! I will try to find my muse - she seemed to have taken an extended lunch break on the inspiration train…
I created a formspring account! If you have any questions about the stories or anything else, leave one there :). The link is on my profile.