Play The Game

by Casey Crisp

  “Relax, Starr,” the first voice said. “It’s just the medical trainer.”

  “Are you alright, Brynn?” a smaller voice inquired, a familiar one.

  I managed to locate the sound, squinting my eyes as I recognized a blur of color. “Skyla?”

  The girl nodded, reaching for my hand to squeeze. “It’s good that you know who I am.”

  “Why would I forget?” I asked without really thinking, rotating my head around to understand the slowly resuming picture of the gymnasium. “What happened?”

  “You took a bad fall,” another voice said, and I studied the elderly man kneeling down in front of me. “You hit your head on the gym floor.”

  “Did we win?”

  Skyla chuckled. “There’s still six minutes left.”

  “It’s tied now,” Miranda said. “Thanks to the charge you took.”

  “I remember that!” I nodded as if everything suddenly made sense. “I don’t really feel good.”

  “It’s probably because you’re showing symptoms of a concussion,” the trainer said, oddly sympathetic. “You played hard, young lady. I think you should take the rest of the night off.”

  I slumped down into my seat. “I think that sounds nice.”

  He grinned, patting my knee. “Don’t fall asleep tonight. We’ll schedule you an appointment with a physician here at the center in the morning.”

  “Okay,” I concurred distractedly, holding up my hand to examine it because it was suddenly really interesting.

  After Miranda and the trainer were gone, Skyla leaned in closer. “You had your best performance tonight, Nicole. I know you might not remember everything, but you were unstoppable. We just need Brynn and Rose to finish the game.”

  Her excitement was palpable, and it was very similar to the obvious smiles that my teammates were sporting. Yet, I couldn’t find a way to relate to their enthusiasm. Instead, I surveyed the court, flinching when the referee blew his whistle and a chorus of thunderous opposition filled the gymnasium. “That’s Rose’s fourth foul,” Skyla mentioned nervously.

  Oh! That was bad.

  Rose

  I watched in horror as Miranda held my youngest sister, noting the dazed expression on her face as she struggled to open her eyes. “She’ll be alright,” Aria tried to reassure me, but what she didn’t understand was that Nicole had been hurt like this before.

  My eyes met Brynn’s from across the court, and my poker-faced sister was stunningly open, wearing her emotions on her sleeve. We both shared a deeper layer to the situation, something to which my teammates were oblivious. Brynn slowly made her way over to me as the referees surrounded our bench. “She’s had a concussion in the past,” Brynn noted, watching me carefully.

  I remained silent on the matter as if disregarding the situation would suddenly make it less real. Shortly thereafter, the referees seemed ready to continue the game since Nicole was safely on the sidelines, leaving her in the care of an older athletic trainer. “One problem after another,” Brynn stated before looking up at the scoreboard.

  We were tied with our opponent with less than six minutes to play. I had long forgotten that I was supposed to be nervous, adjusting to the flow of the game and settling into my usual role as a power forward. Yet, I was also aware that I had accumulated quite a few fouls having gone up against a much bigger player who certainly didn't care about using her superior size as an advantage. However, as the tallest player on our team, I was inclined to guard the other team’s opposing forward. If I fouled out, then we would have to trust Hadley to position herself on the court. Even though I felt conflicting feelings towards her as a person, I knew that she was rather good on defense. Unfortunately, sometimes skill just wasn’t enough when your opponent could just shoot over your head.

  The referee blew his whistle and approached the baseline of the court. Brynn and I followed him so that I could throw the ball into our point guard. The game resumed and I returned to my position as Brynn organized everyone on offense. Currently, our line-up consisted of myself, Brynn, Aria, Sydney, and Rina. It was an interesting combination, especially considering our recent history.

  When Brynn held up a fist, I knew that she was looking for a screen. This was supposed to be Rina’s responsibility, but she was far more interested in assisting Sydney. Instead of waiting for a miracle, I ran out of my spot to provide Brynn’s screen, planting my feet firmly as I accepted the sudden weight of Brynn’s defender running into my chest. I grunted from the impact, and I knew that I would definitely have several bruises by tomorrow morning.

  Brynn penetrated to the basket, drawing a couple of defenders into her path. Taking advantage of an unguarded Aria, Brynn passed the ball in her direction, darting out to the corner for another shooting opportunity. Aria passed the ball to me as I swung it around to Sydney. Accordingly, Sydney was supposed to continue passing the ball to Brynn who was wide open in the corner, but Sydney suddenly seemed much more self-motivated, shooting the contested three and managing to score the basket, much to my chagrin. Actually, the unexpected shot was the first time since the start of the game that Sydney had been so selfish, and I could only hope that it would also be the last.

  I retreated back on defense with everyone else, finding my opponent under the basket, already looking to receive a pass from her teammate. Exhaustion was starting to affect me heavily, especially after my adrenaline had abruptly vanished following an unexpected timeout to handle Nicole’s injury. I was growing frustrated with the way the opposing forward would shove her elbows into my sides, fighting around my body to plant herself in front of me.

  An unfortunate combination that left me in a vulnerable position and, when she caught the ball under the basket, I panicked and acted irrationally, wincing when my hand slapped down against her arm. Because not only did she score the easy basket, but she also benefited from a foul call, putting her on the free throw line for another point attempt. Meanwhile, I was left with four fouls, and I wasn’t surprised when a fuming Miranda substituted me out of the game for Hadley.

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered defensively when she planted me on the bench next to a disoriented Nicole.

  “Look, Starr, I need you in that game! Don’t give up stupid fouls like that!”

  “I know,” I insisted, and I was irritated that she thought I had intentionally been so careless.

  “You’re going back in soon,” Miranda said. “Rest up for now.”

  I rolled my eyes when Miranda returned to her previous stance screaming from the sidelines. Because, at the very least, this unexpected break would allow me the opportunity to ensure that my youngest sister was fully competent. “Hey, Nicole,” I said, reaching out to gently shake her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  “I think so,” Nicole replied, but she was slurring the words.

  “No you’re not,” I said, glancing back behind me when I heard a familiar voice calling out my name.

  Beckett knelt close to the bench, concerned eyes sweeping over Nicole. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s probably a concussion,” I told him honestly. “She’s had one before, and I’m worried it might be worse this time.”

  Beckett winced. “Is she responsive?”

  “Yeah,” I said, keeping a firm hand on Nicole’s arm. “She says that she’s alright, but I think she looks two seconds away from falling over.”

  “Beckett Arlington!” The shrill voice of my coach interrupted our exchanges. “Get back to your seat. We don’t need distractions.”

  I grinned when she indicated to some of the other girls on the team who were whispering over Beckett’s unexpected appearance. He seemed ready to argue, but another cold look from Miranda managed to silence him. He looked down at Nicole, who was resting her head heavily in her hands, before retreating higher into the bleachers.

  “Rose!” Miranda caught my attention. “Get ready for a substitution. If we give up anymore points to their forward, I’m going to lose my mind.”

  I ca
st a wary eye at the scoreboard because seeing how much time was still remaining made my stomach twist uncomfortably. It would come down to just one wrong pass or one missed shot; the unfortunate result of a team’s miscommunication or their blatant selfishness that would end their chances. It was understandable why everyone wanted to score the game winning shot, but it also didn’t have to come down to such an unpredictable scenario, and I suddenly realized that being the hero wasn’t always the right decision.

  I found myself biting along the edges of my fingernails, a nasty habit that I had desperately tried to break in the past. However, these kinds of moments often forced me to revert back to past grievances. “I need you to take Hadley’s position!” Miranda suddenly darted in front of me. “I’m officially losing my mind.” I heeded her command, kneeling down in front of the scorekeeper’s table to check back into the game.

  Hadley seemed annoyed by the substitution, especially when there were less than two minutes left to play, and Brynn panted hard as she came over to me. “I think I’m dying,” she managed, and I could only offer my sympathy in the form of a reassuring hand on her upper back.

  “Well, that’s more of a reason to finish strong,” I encouraged her before I jogged to get into position.

  Coach held up an ‘X’ from the sideline, and I was momentarily surprised because she was asking us to execute such a simple play. I thought she might attempt something extravagant from the back of that crinkled notebook she toted around, like when those desperate college coaches suddenly remembered a really innovative play that contained the potential to completely change the outcome of a game. Suddenly, the players would be reinvigorated and the fans would cheer loudly when they recognized what was happening. It always worked when I watched it on TV.

  However, I winced in pain when an opposing guard ran into my back, trying to keep up with Aria who was cutting to the baseline. It was enough to force the guard to stumble in her path and Aria effortlessly made her shot from the three-point line, the ball barely touching the net as it descended from its arch. Needles to say, we could rely on Aria Nicolai who always made something out of nothing.

  The gymnasium was suddenly much louder, perhaps just as anxious as we were with a scoreboard that revealed such a close discrepancy in our lead. It was rather insignificant because our opponents continued to surprise us with clever play calls, evening the score without much effort. It was unexpected but it worked, making our situation even more oppressive.

  Desperately, I fought to keep myself in position with an anxious forward who was determined to push me all the way back to the baseline. She was much stronger than me, and I was faintly irritated that I wasn’t able to measure up to someone who was equal in status. Brynn attempted to pass me the ball, but the superior forward simply bashed it out of the way and into the awaiting hands of another guard who managed to bring the ball all the way back down to their end of the court for an uncontested layup. Miranda was outraged, but our two quickest players, Aria and Brynn, looked seconds away from collapsing. I was pretty sure that they had basically played the entire game.

  Unfortunately, losing with one minute left on the clock often generated an environment that fostered errors, and Aria’s first missed shot revealed the extent of our dishevelment. Aria was flustered, nothing but apologetic as we went back to defense. Our teammates worked hard, but in certain situations you needed somebody to prove that enough determination could foster a miracle. Accordingly, I barely even noticed that the ball was no longer in our opponent’s control. All I saw from my low vantage point was a familiar flash of brown hair from down the court and a body colliding with two of our opponents who were also equally as determined.

  However, the shot was perfectly executed, and Brynn’s last-minute layup fell smoothly through the net as the referee’s whistle signaled the promise of an extra point. The opportunity to position ourselves ahead of the opposing team with ten seconds remaining on the clock. There was a palpable excitement in the air and I could feel it fueling my exhausted body. Yet, at the same time, perhaps the scoring attempt demanded some sort of repayment because Brynn decided that she was much more inclined to stay on the floor while her fingers clutched the ankle she had previously injured.

  Nicole’s concussion was horrible enough, but Brynn’s injury was absolutely heartbreaking. I raced down the court to hover over my sister, even with everyone else trying to push me away. I had allowed them to keep me apart from Nicole, but I was determined not to let them force my hand again. Instead, I watched with trepidation as Miranda and the athletic trainer knelt down next to Brynn, and the trainer’s practiced eyes took one cursory glance before his verdict was reached. “Sprained,” he declared with a solemn nod of his head.

  Brynn was moaning in pain, tears falling without her consent because Brynn hated crying. “It really hurts.”

  A stretcher was brought onto the court, and I rushed to Miranda’s side. “Please let me go with her.”

  “The game isn’t over, Starr,” she reminded me, but I gripped the sleeve of her shirt tightly.

  “Please.”

  But Miranda was just as adamant. “You should stay for Nicole,” she pointed out. “You can both visit Brynn afterwards.”

  In the hospital, I wanted to cry, but settled for reluctance as I watched them carry away my sister while a respectful applause sounded from the fans. “Let’s finish this,” Aria said to me and I nodded in agreement.

  Aria was allowed to take Brynn’s place on the free throw line and the other team never got a chance afterwards. Aria successfully scored the free throw and the big, tall opposing forward accidentally threw the ball to the wrong player. I recognized that we won after the buzzer echoed throughout the gymnasium, and there was pride warming the center of my chest, but my sisters were not there to share it with me. I finally understood what Ryder had meant when he described the moment as bittersweet.

  ***

  Brynn had always been unpleasant when it came to being the center of attention. One time, when we were much younger, she sprained her wrist at a basketball camp. Despite being hundreds of miles away from our parents, injured under the observation of people she had never met before, and subject to Nicole’s persistent crying, Brynn maintained an indifferent attitude. She insisted that her wrist didn’t even hurt and that she was sure she could participate in all the camp’s activities for the remaining week. And even after being told by a doctor, several indistinct nurses, and our camp leaders that she was unfit, Brynn countered that she had never felt better and that everyone was overreacting.

  Brynn had been this way all throughout her life, even in some of her most perilous situations. I always admired my sister for such persistence, even if it seemed rather prideful. After all, there was nothing wrong with showing vulnerability. However, Brynn had decided that she would rather remain strong for everyone with the exception of a select few lucky individuals who saw beyond an impenetrable shield. That shield manifested itself in the form of feisty words, a sharp wit, and tsundere attitude. You see, Brynn rarely cried, and I could probably count on one hand the amount of times that my sister had cried in front of me. Brynn was the strongest person I knew, but sometimes the strongest people created such a persona in the wrong way.

  My sister clenched her teeth together in pain as a nurse slowly inserted a needle for a blood sample. Brynn despised needles, often coming close to losing consciousness each time she even had the displeasure of being subjected to that misery. Even so, my sister refused to let a single tear slip free as she collapsed against the hospital bed with a defeated expression. I waited a few minutes after the nurse walked out of the room to finally speak, allowing Brynn the opportunity to overcome the nausea she always felt after an injection. “I can go get you coffee.”

  “Okay,” Brynn said, and I watched as my sister took in several deep breaths, eyes shut tightly together.

  “Still dizzy?”

  “I hate needles,” Brynn muttered. “What does that have to do with
my ankle?”

  “It’s probably just their procedure,” I said while pulling my cell phone out of my pocket. Because Alex’s text remained unanswered, and I opened my messages to read over his words again:

  Alex: Tell Brynn I’m coming to see her.

  “How are the boys doing?” Brynn asked, assuming that I was probably receiving some sort of update.

  “They were losing the last time I checked,” I replied. “They’re completely out of their league.”

  “Well, they came close to losing in the semi-finals,” Brynn said, eyeing her bandaged ankle with disgust.

  “I heard from some of the cheerleaders that they aren’t even playing their best. I guess there’s something wrong with their game.”

  “Those bastards!” Brynn sighed. “After we risked our lives to win?”

  I chuckled. “Speaking of which, do you mind if I visit Nicole? Mom should be here soon.”

  “Ugh,” Brynn groaned, “I don’t want to see mom right now.”

  “Try to be nice,” I warned my sister while also trying to delay the delivery of my next piece of news. “Alex messaged me earlier.”

  “Oh?”

  “He’s coming to see you.”

  I hesitated, waiting for Brynn to completely oppose such an idea. However, I was surprised to be met with a solemn nod. “Okay, but make sure mom isn’t here when he arrives.”

  “Alright?”

  Brynn snorted. “I’m fine with it, Rose. I actually like that he wants to come see me.”

  “I hope you mean that,” I said. “But don’t bring up that stupid conversation with Rina and Sydney from earlier.”

  “He probably knows anyway.”

  That’s true, I conceded, nodding towards the door. “I’ll be back soon.”

  I wanted to keep that promise, especially considering the short excursion to Nicole’s room. Thankfully, the hospital placed them both on the same floor, and that made my new habit of walking between the two rooms much easier to manage. It was still disappointing because both of my sisters were seemingly out of commision, but they were also responsive and acting like their usual selves. I was still worried about Nicole, even though the doctor had already explained that Nicole was reacting perfectly normal to her treatment. She was diagnosed with a concussion, but she would quickly recover as long as she refrained from physical activity for a few weeks. Nicole was also given a note to stay out of school, which I’m sure my youngest sister didn’t mind.