Mariam tilted her head, not believing either one of us. Josh walked past her and into the packed gym. “You shouldn’t lie to your best friend,” she whispered in my ear. Best friend. I hadn’t heard her refer to me like that in a while.
“Tell you later,” I promised. Because right now, I had a championship to win.
Chapter 25
Across the gym, the Lazers stretched and their coach eyed each player up and down, looking for weaknesses. “I’ll go talk to the ref,” Mr. Letner said, resolute.
I tried to keep my breathing even as I watched Mr. Letner walk across the floor. Mariam stood on one side of me and Jillian planted herself on the other. “Are you sure about this?” I asked. Letting the Lazers win would be a bitter pill to swallow.
“They’d win by default, which isn’t really a win. And anyway, we’re a team,” she said with a grin. She picked up a ball and tossed it gently in the air. “I was talking with my mom yesterday about the passion project your class is doing. I was thinking, I’d like to do one, too.”
“What would you do?”
“I want to see if I can get the rules changed about the uniform. You shouldn’t have to choose between your religion and playing sports.”
I looked at Jillian. Blond hair, blue eyed. The rule didn’t affect her, would never affect her, but she was still willing to do something to change it, anyway. “That’d be amazing, Jillian.”
The team quieted down and all eyes turned to watch Mr. Letner jog back to us with the answer from the Lazers coach. I squeezed my hands into fists, expecting the worst, but he gave us a thumbs-up.
“You can play!” came the excited voices of my teammates. A grin stretched across my face. Mariam and Jillian wrapped their arms around my shoulders and squeezed. I looked for Josh, a little ways away. He beamed at me.
Allan glared at the Lazers. Lou returned the look with a sneer. “They think they can beat us.”
“But they can’t.” The determination I heard in my voice surprised even me.
Carmina, Riley, and a lot of other kids from 9B had made it to the game. They were sitting beside my parents and Mrs. Marino. I did a double take at the girl in hijab sitting behind her in the bleachers. Amira had come, too! She was sitting with her father. I waved at them and gave a thumbs-up. “I can play!” I shouted across the gym. Dad raised a fist in the air in celebration and Amira shouted good luck in Arabic.
Mr. Letner called us in for a team huddle and outlined our positions and plays. My palms were damp with nerves, but I ignored that and everything else to focus on what Mr. Letner had to tell us. “Remember, get aggressive. Don’t be afraid to throw your body around. If this team is expecting us to lie down and let them walk all over us, they’re wrong. We aren’t going to let that happen, are we?”
“No!” we all shouted. “Three, two, one, Thunder!” The fans in the audience cheered as we took our positions on the court. Energy pulsed through me. My feet wanted to move and I couldn’t wait to get the ball in my hands.
The first half of the game was back and forth. I’d been on the sidelines last time and had seen the aggressive play by the Lazers. Being on the court and feeling it was something else. Their elbows flew and they used their bodies to hip check and push us around. Twice, I collided with another player. We were all flushed and sweating by the half-time break and I was glad Mariam had sewn my uniform with light, athletic fabric. There was no way I could have played my hardest without it.
We went up by five points early in the second half and then Derek pushed Josh so hard he fell down and almost slid headfirst into the bleachers. There was an outcry from the stands. I could tell Josh was rattled. He didn’t score on either of his foul shots, which got high-fives for Derek from his teammates. Unless we could convert the fouls into points, they’d keep playing dirty.
The play went back and forth. We’d score, then the Lazers would, until one of their players made a three-point shot and they went up on us by five points. With two minutes left in the game, Mr. Letner called a time out.
I looked at my parents and did another double take. Aazim was sitting beside them. He must have come in during the game and I hadn’t noticed. He raised a hand and waved at me. I’d been so distracted by the game that I’d forgotten about last night. Everything rushed back. I looked at him again, but he didn’t look mad. In fact, my parents and Aazim looked happy, like the tension from yesterday had disappeared. Were they pretending for my benefit, to keep me focused on the game, or had something changed?
“Sadia,” Mr. Letner said, his voice sharper than usual. Everyone else was in the team huddle, paying attention, not gazing out into the stands. “Are you listening?”
Allan shuffled over to make room for me between him and Jillian. The next two minutes could win us the tournament.
Mr. Letner’s face was flushed. His bald head shone under the gym lights and was covered by a thin sheen of sweat. “Jill, I’m putting you and Josh on the same line. I want you to do that play we practised on Thursday.” Jillian nodded. Mr. Letner turned to Allan, his face intense. “You’re going to get to the key and stay there. Don’t let them rush you. Stand your ground. If they push you, push back. Sadia, get in as close to the basket as you can. If Allan can’t make the shot, he’ll pass to you. Take your time and set up the play. Ready?” He stuck out his hand and everyone piled theirs on top for the team cheer.
“Lazers!” we heard from the other side of the gym.
We ran into our positions. Josh got the play started. He dribbled the ball up the court and passed to Jillian; she moved back to centre and passed it to Allan. He faked and threw the ball to Josh, who drove into the key as if he was going for the shot. The Lazers centre moved in to block, but at the last second, Josh pivoted and threw the ball to me. I dribbled, boxing out the girl covering me, did a quick dash, and passed to Jill, who was out of the key. The Lazers were so confused, they didn’t know who to cover. Jill shot and made three points. We were down by two. Allan grabbed the rebound to shoot again, but Lou, the Lazers player, shoved him so hard he fell to the floor with a thud. The ball rolled out of his hands and Lou grabbed it, ignoring the ref’s whistle. He looked around with his hands spread wide. “What?” he asked, indignantly, as if it hadn’t been an intentional foul.
I held out my hand to help Allan up. He glared with narrowed eyes at Lou and balled up his fists. “Wipe that smirk off your face, you piece of —” The ref blew his whistle and stood between Lou and Allan. I glanced at the bench. Mr. Letner shook his head, gritting his teeth. The ref passed the ball to Allan. “Two shots,” he said.
Allan took his time moving to the foul-shot line. We all needed the breather. “Come on,” I said under my breath. Everyone knew how important these two shots were. But we also knew that Allan was our weakest at sinking foul shots. He bounced the ball and took a deep breath. There was a lot of pressure on him. I was the player to his right, and when I caught his eye, I gave him a steely glare. He needed to focus. The first shot bounced off the rim. The Lazers fans cheered wildly. “You can do it, Allan!” I said, clapping. His teeth were clenched and I saw Lou scoff at him from under the basket. “Score this one for your brother,” I said so quietly only he could hear me. Allan grinned and his shoulders relaxed. I inhaled as the basketball left his hands and sailed through the air. I didn’t exhale until I heard the swish of the net and knew it had gone in. We were down by one!
The Lazers started their offence with even more aggression than before. Jillian tried to box their power forward, but he got past her, driving wide to the net. Josh came out of nowhere and jumped up to block the shot. It grazed his fingertips but it was enough of a deflection. The ball went wide and Thomas caught it. He ran it upcourt. “Over here!” Allan called. Thomas passed and Allan dodged both Lou and Derek, who collided with each other in their haste to get the ball. They both went down. Allan jumped over them. Three seconds left. He tossed the ball up just
as the buzzer went. I held my breath. It went in! Final score: 51–50 for us!
The players on the bench and Mariam ran to the court, screaming. We jumped up and down, hugging and laughing. Mr. Letner walked on the floor high-fiving the team and trying to get us to line up to shake hands. It would have felt good to gloat, payback for all the unkind things the Lazers had said and done to our team. But Mr. Letner had been right. He’d told us to ignore their behaviour and focus on being a team. Well, we had and we’d won!
Some of the Lazers players had tears in their eyes and wouldn’t look at us as we went down the line slapping hands. A chorus of “Good game. Good game” came from each of our players, but wasn’t returned by the Lazers. Even the coach wouldn’t look at Mr. Letner when it was their turn to shake hands. Mr. Letner walked away, shaking his head.
Both teams lined up for the trophy presentation and MVP award. Derek from the other team was called first. He came up to receive his certificate for MVP and shook hands with the coaches and ref. Next was the MVP award for our team. Because it was the finals, Mr. Letner made the pick. I crossed my fingers. Being named Most Valuable Player for the final game was a big deal. With Amira, Aazim, and my parents in the audience, I would have loved to hear my name over the sound system.
But it wasn’t mine. It was Allan’s. His mouth hung open as he stepped up to receive it. Mr. Letner shook his hand and clapped Allan on the shoulder. From the first row in the stands, Allan’s mother stood up and hollered, “Way to go, Allan!” I looked over. She held out her phone, snapping a photo. Allan’s brother sat beside her in his wheelchair. He couldn’t clap, but the grin on his face said it all.
Then it was time to award the trophies. The tournament organizers came to the floor. Between them was the table with two awards on it. The finalist trophy went to the Lazers. But the big one, so tall it reached up to my waist, was for our team. It sparkled under the gym lights. “This year’s JV All-City Basketball Tournament Champions are the Laura Secord Thunder!” Amidst lots of clapping, stamping, and hollering, our team captains, Jillian and Josh, were presented with the trophy. They stood with the organizers and let their parents take photos and then held it above their heads to more cheering. When Mr. Letner gave the signal, the rest of us rushed to them while parents crowded around to take a team photo.
“You should go in the middle, Allan. You’re the MVP,” Jillian said. She and Josh stood on either side and the rest of us crowded around, beaming. “Thunder!” we said as the parents held up their phones and snapped pictures.
Josh was standing beside me. His arm, casually draped across my shoulders, stayed there even after the photo shoot finished. “See you at the party, right?” he asked.
I nodded eagerly. Nothing could keep me away from celebrating our win. Mariam shot me an anxious glance; her eyes darted to just behind me. I turned and came face to face with my mom.
Chapter 26
I eased myself away from Josh and met Mom’s penetrating glare. Josh and I had been way too close for her comfort. “What?” I asked innocently.
Her eyes flickered over to Josh, who had moved a few feet away to relive the game’s best moments with Mohammed. Mom stared at me through her glasses, her mouth pulled tight with concern. “That boy —”
“He’s just a friend.” I lowered my voice, worried that someone would overhear.
Mom arched a skeptical eyebrow. “Really?”
But even as I nodded, a guilty blush crept up my cheeks. Mom turned her eyes to the ceiling, imploring a higher power. “What is happening to my children? One acting and this one hugging boys.”
I had to roll my eyes, which was probably not the best choice. “It’s not like that, Mom. You make it sound like —” I broke off, annoyed. At centre court, Mariam glanced my way. “Josh is my friend. That’s it. I promise.”
Mom pursed her lips like she didn’t believe me. “And the party? Why didn’t you mention it before?”
“I forgot,” I said lamely, and got the same dubious look. “I would have told you,” I said with a sigh. “But Mariam —” I looked at my friend. “She knew if her parents found out, they wouldn’t let her go.”
“Why not?”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “You know how they are.”
“So the sleepover you two were planning …” She let her question trail off and waited for me to confess.
“The whole team is invited, Mom! Mariam is part of the team. She should be allowed to go.”
“That’s not for you to decide.” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Whose house is the party at?”
My mouth twitched. Answering honestly would destroy Mariam’s carefully constructed plan. I took a breath, ready to lie right to my mom’s face. I opened my mouth to say “Ally’s,” but it was the truth that tumbled out. “Jillian’s.”
“Oh, Sadia.” The disappointment in her voice made me cringe. It took all the shine off winning the tournament. “Who will be there to supervise? Her parents are away.”
I hung my head, embarrassed at being caught in the lie.
“You know it isn’t appropriate to for you to go to a party like that.”
I bit the insides of my cheeks. A hot swell of disappointment rose up in my chest at the thought of not being able to celebrate with my team.
Mom sighed and shook her head. “There will always be these” — she hesitated, looking for the right word — “temptations. You and Mariam can’t pick and choose which of our values you want to follow.” Something about the way she said it made me wonder if she knew that from personal experience.
“The whole team is going. Mariam and I will be the only ones left out.” I looked over at Jillian, Josh, Allan, Mohammed, and the rest of my team goofing around on the basketball court with the trophy. Mom followed my gaze. She’d seen first-hand what my team had been willing to sacrifice for my right to play. Hijab or no hijab, I was one of them. Kind of ironic that the thing they’d fought for was the same thing that would keep me from celebrating with them. “I can’t not go, Mom,” I said, my voice thick. She pursed her lips and shook her head. She didn’t need to say anything. I could read the firmness of her answer on her face.
“Hey!” Jillian said as she bounded over, her phone out. “Can I get a picture of me and you with the trophy?” In a second, she realized she’d interrupted something tense and tried to make a hasty retreat. “Or maybe later —”
“Now is fine,” Mom said with a thin-lipped smile and a pointed look in my direction. She left us, making a beeline for Dad and Aazim, who were talking with some other parents.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Jillian said.
“You weren’t. We were just talking about the party —” I started. Jillian gave me an excited grin, making the next words even harder. “I can’t go,” I told her.
“Oh.” Jillian’s face fell. “Why not?”
I sighed, wishing I didn’t have to explain.
Across the gym, I caught Mariam’s eye and waved her over. “Is everything okay?” she asked.
I shook my head. “We can’t go to Jillian’s,” I said. “Mom figured out what we were planning. And with your parents gone, she won’t let us go to the party.” I gave Jillian an apologetic look.
“That sucks,” she said.
“It’s my fault. She would have let you go if you hadn’t tried to cover for me,” Mariam said, glowering.
“No. I told her it was at Jillian’s,” I admitted. “She practically guessed anyway.”
The three of us stood quietly for a minute, letting the news sink in. “So, it’s not hanging out with the team that’s the problem, it’s that it’s a party with no parents?” Jillian clarified.
I nodded, also thinking about the look on Mom’s face when she saw Josh’s arm draped across my shoulders. She hadn’t been thrilled about seeing that either. “Basically.”
Jillian�
�s face brightened. “So they’d be cool if we went for a team dinner instead?”
I looked at Mariam. My parents would be and Mariam’s probably would, too. We both nodded. Jillian spun around. “Team huddle!” she called.
As we were waiting for everyone to join us, Amira brought her father over to congratulate me. I felt like a celebrity the way he gushed about my play. It took away some of the sting about not being allowed to go to Jillian’s party. “You are talented!” he said. “You have to teach Amira to play!”
I laughed and told him we were trying. The settlement worker who had driven them to the sportsplex commented on what an exciting game it was. Amira had filled him in on the drama surrounding my uniform.
“Sounds like I should be going to more high-school basketball games,” he said, laughing.
“Thanks for coming,” I said to Amira as they were leaving. “It means a lot to me.” The smile she gave me was genuine, brighter and better than the trophy we’d won.
Jillian had corralled the team, including Mr. Letner. “Who’s in for a team dinner at the restaurant next door?”
It wasn’t the same as a party, but at least we’d get to celebrate as a team, the same way we’d played.
Everyone nodded.
“And then the party at your house?” Allan asked.
“I don’t think everyone can make it,” Jillian explained. I cast a quick glance at Mariam. “This time. But maybe next weekend, when my parents are home, we can have one that is exclusive. Just us.” She grinned at Mariam and me.
“Sounds good!”
“Thanks, Jillian,” I whispered to her as the team dispersed.
There was no telling if Mariam would be able to go to that party or not, but at least she had a week to come up with a convincing argument for her parents. And if anyone could do it, it was Mariam.
“Hey, it’s the latest in hijabi fashion!” Aazim said with a grin as I joined the group of parents and kids making their way toward the exit doors. “That was a great game,” he said. “Your team is really good!”
Sadia Page 17
