The buzz of the buzzer is still ringing in my ears when the ref places the ball on the court for the tip-off. Kate and Olson square off again. The ball goes up, and it's like time slows down. Olson stretches to her full height, but Kate gets the tip. She taps it toward Martinez, and we're back in action.

This time, Olson's team looks ready. They're anticipating Kate's every move. Johnson, with her jersey reading "2," is guarding Martinez. As Kate makes a quick pass, Johnson leaps into action, almost intercepting it. Almost. Martinez catches the ball by the skin of her teeth and quickly passes to Kim, who's right under the basket.

Kim leaps, her fingers just grazing the rim, but her layup is too soft. The ball bounces off, and for a terrible moment, it looks like it's Olson's turn to shine. She grabs the rebound and is off, charging down the court like a runaway train.

Kate's hot on her heels, but Olson's not slowing down. She executes a flawless crossover, leaving a defender biting air. Closing in on the basket, she jumps and releases the ball. It hangs in the air, a spinning globe of possibilities, before it swishes through the hoop. Two points. Just like that.

Back on the other end of the court, Kate's calling the play. Her eyes scan the defenders, evaluating options. Her gaze locks onto Jackson, jersey "14," who's making her way around a screen set by Kim. The pass is perfect. Jackson receives it, pivots, and shoots a mid-range jumper. It's off the mark.

Olson snatches another rebound, and it's déjà vu all over again. She dribbles with intent, but this time Kate's ready for her. Just as Olson gears up for another incredible shot, Kate times her jump perfectly and blocks it. The ball ricochets off the backboard, and Martinez grabs it.

The counterattack is lightning quick. Kate sprints down the court, Martinez trailing her. At the last second, she dishes it to Martinez, who fires from beyond the arc. Three-pointer. Nothing but net.

The clock is ticking down, less than a minute left on the game clock. Tensions are high, and everyone's on edge, the weight of the scrimmage outcome hanging over both teams. Kate's team is ahead by that last three-pointer, but Olson's face tells me she's far from admitting defeat. She gets the inbounds pass and starts a slow dribble up the court, her eyes coldly assessing every angle.

Kate's shadowing her closely, mirroring her every move. Olson fakes left, goes right, then throws a behind-the-back pass to Thompson, whose jersey reads "33." Thompson seems surprised to get the ball, hesitates for just a split second before taking a shot from the free-throw line. It clangs off the rim.

Time is running down, seconds ticking away like droplets in a rainstorm. Kate's team holds a narrow lead, but the game's not over. Olson's face is a mask of concentration; she's plotting, planning. She receives the rebound and dribbles with a kind of frenzied calm, if that makes any sense.

She makes her move, cutting to the basket. Kate anticipates, mirroring her. Olson leaps for a layup. Kate jumps to block. Their hands meet in mid-air, a clash of wills and skills. The ball wobbles uncertainly for a moment before dropping.

Into Kate's hands.

As the buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the scrimmage, Kate dribbles the ball a few times before letting it come to a rest at her feet. She looks up, locking eyes with Olson. They nod at each other, a silent acknowledgment of a game well-played. And then Kate turns to her teammates, her face breaking into a grin, and they rush her, a mass of ecstatic humanity.

From my spot in the bleachers, I can't hear what Kate and Olson are saying to each other, but their conversation looks animated, punctuated by gestures and quick bursts of laughter. Whatever rivalry they had on the court seems to have melted into camaraderie, the kind forged in the crucible of competition. They share a high-five that's perfectly timed, a testament to their athletic synchronization. Then comes a secret handshake, intricate and quick, a series of slaps, snaps, and finger flicks that ends with both of them pointing at each other, like duelists marking their respect.

It's then that Kate's eyes roam the stands, perhaps looking for someone, perhaps just soaking in the afterglow of the game. Her gaze lands on us. There's a momentary flicker of recognition, and then her face lights up. Even from this distance, the sincerity of her smile is unmistakable. She lifts her hand and waves, making sure to catch my eye.

I wave back, a small but heartfelt gesture, and her smile widens, if that's even possible. It's like an unspoken promise, a moment of connection that says, "We'll catch up soon."

Jamila nudges me, her eyes twinkling. "Looks like you caught her eye after all."

"Yeah," I reply, feeling a warmth spread through me that has nothing to do with the atmosphere in the gym. "Yeah, it looks like I did."

----------------------------------------

The game finally comes to an end, and we won! Or rather, Kate's team won. Or rather, Kate's half of Kate's team won. I didn't really have much to do with it, but I cheered as loud as I could, and Jamila's claps were practically wind gusts. I can't help but be excited as the team gathers in a huddle, doing one of those on-the-count-of-three team shouts. I think it's something like "Go Wildcats!" but I can't really make out the words from here. Jamila turns to me with a grin. "Your friend is pretty good out there."

"Yeah, she's always been a natural," I reply, beaming. We decide to head down toward the court, weaving through the bleachers, dodging stray basketballs and dodgier parents arguing about referee calls. For a scrimmage game? Really? I keep my eyes on Kate. She's wiping her face with a towel, sandy blonde hair sticking to her forehead. Freckles stand out more when she's flushed like this.

As we approach, I catch her eye and wave, a full arm kind of wave that probably looks a bit silly but who cares? "Hey, Kate! Great game!"

Kate looks up and smiles. It reaches her eyes, but it's tired, you know? "Hey, Sam. Thanks for coming. And you must be…?" She glances at Jamila.

"Jamila," she supplies, offering a handshake that Kate returns. "Sam's girlfriend. You really know how to play."

"Thanks," Kate says, dropping her hand back to her side, "it's something, at least. Didn't know Sam liked girls."

There's that weird pause, right? Like, what do you say after 'it's something, at least'? So I jump right into it. "How are you feeling? You must be psyched about the win," I say, kind of walking past that last part. It's not something I really would like to dig into right now. Not here, not with Kate, not in public. Sorry.

"I am," she nods, taking another sip from her water bottle. "It's good for team morale to start the season with a win."

"Yeah, I bet," I agree, nodding along because that sounds like something I should nod to. "Wait, that doesn't make sense, you just won against your own team."

Kate bends down into a fake boxing stance and jabs me twice in the ribs. "You're too smart for your own good, Small," she teases, rolling her shoulders until they pop. She finally wraps the towel around her neck, eyes flicking from me to Jamila and back again. "So how's Tacony? Your new school?"

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Her tone shifts just a fraction. Maybe it's my imagination, but it's like something's missing now. "Uh, it's good, you know? Different crowd, different teachers. We've got a pretty good basketball team too. I mean, not that I'm on it or anything."

Kate chuckles, "Well, you've never been the sporty type," she jokes, jabbing me in the ribs with two knuckles again. I think a couple months ago that would've hurt, but now it just takes the wind out and then feels warm.

I laugh too, but it's a half-laugh. Like, I want to find it funny, but something's making it hard to. Jamila steps a bit closer to me, maybe she's sensing something too, or maybe she's just getting bored. "Do you miss the old school?"

Kate's shoulders lift in a half-shrug. "Some parts. Not all." And there's a pause again, filled only by the ambient noise of people packing up and leaving the gym. "But change is inevitable, right?"

"Yeah, guess so," I manage to say, and I'm getting this weird feeling like I want to be anywhere but here. And that's crazy because Kate's my friend, right? We go way back.

"Hey, I better head off," Kate says, "Coach wants to go over some things with us, you know, post-game talk. I'll be back around, though. Don't go far!"

"Yeah, sure. Do your thing, superstar," I grin, trying to bring back the good vibes.

Jamila and I wave as she jogs off to join her teammates, who are gathering around their coach. And then it's just us, standing on the side of the court.

"Was it just me, or was that conversation a bit… off?" Jamila asks.

I sigh, pulling my phone from my pocket to check the time. "I don't know. Maybe we're just reading into things."

"Yeah, maybe," she agrees, but I can tell she's not entirely convinced. And, honestly? Neither am I.

Kate comes back from talking with her coach, her face all sweaty but her eyes are kinda steely. I think she might be tired, but it's the kind of tired that makes you more awake. I can't describe it, but I know what it feels like. "Hey, thanks for coming again, it's real," she says, but her voice doesn't really match her words, like when you have to say thank you but you don't want to.

"Of course! You were great out there. Like I said." I mean it, but the atmosphere's like one of those old cartoons where a rain cloud follows you. It's awkward and heavy, but not like the good kinda heavy. "So how's your dad doing? I heard he was having a rough time," I try to change the subject. I shouldn't have brought it up. I know that now, the second it leaves my mouth.

Kate walks a little ahead of me and Jamila as we make our way out of the gym, her sneakers squeaking on the polished floor. "He's managing. Had to take up a second job, though. You know how it is with money these days. Tight." She says the last word like she's squeezing the air out of a balloon, and I'm pretty sure she doesn't know her fists are clenched. I notice it though. I always notice weird stuff like that. "How are your folks doing, like I didn't hear about your house getting crushed by a dinosaur attack?"

"Dino attack? Oh, yeah. Total mess. I mean, who expects to get a text from your dad saying, 'Don't come home. Dino invasion.', right?" I shake my head, disbelief still lingering even though it's been days. "We're doing okay though, considering. Living with Lily for now. My parents are out in Ventnor with Pop-Pop."

"That's quite a switch," Kate says, brows knitting together like she's doing some complex math problem in her head. "I mean, from city to… Ventnor. That's gotta feel weird, doesn't it?"

"A little bit, but it's better than dodging a T-Rex on the way to the bathroom." I give her a lopsided grin, and I see her lips twitch a little, like she wants to smile but can't quite manage it. "The quiet's kinda nice, actually. Helps with homework."

"Homework," she mutters, and I hear something like an edge in her voice, but it's so faint that I might be imagining it. "Right. So you're not out doing your, uh, afterschool activities all the time?"

I shrug, picking up the code in her words easily enough. "Gotta balance, you know? Can't save the world if I'm failing Algebra."

Kate lets out a small laugh, a real one this time, and it's like a valve's been released. "Fair enough. Still, must be something, living with a friend like that. I don't think I could do it."

"It's a change," I admit. "But we make it work. What about you? Ever think of leaning on friends? With your dad and all? If you ever need help, you can ask me, you know?" I offer, not knowing how else to say it.

She looks at me and her eyes are kind of cloudy, like there's a mist hiding what she's really thinking. "Thanks, but we got it. Just some obstacles, you know? We'll climb over them." We step out of the gym and into the lobby, which has the smell of a lot of kids running around and sweating all day. I can see her lock that part of her life back up, like she's tucking it into a safe and swallowing the key.

Jamila's been super quiet, maybe picking up on the weird vibes. "Sounds tough, but also sounds like you're handling it," she finally says, trying to make it less uncomfortable maybe? Kate gives her a smile, but it's quick and it goes away like a bubble popping. She doesn't know Jamila as well as she knows me, so she doesn't really owe her a fake smile, but she gives her one anyway.

"Yeah, you're resilient. Always have been," I add, even though I know something's really off. There's like, a thing in the air, and it's not just the sweaty-gym-smell.

"Uh-huh. So, you two doing anything for Halloween?" Kate asks, as we push through the lobby doors, out onto the sidewalk where it's finally cooler, and my hair isn't clinging to my neck so much. I get why she's changing the subject. Halloween is safer, and I jump at the change.

"Probably just gonna hand out candy, maybe watch a scary movie," I say. "You?"

"Trick-or-treating alone, mainly to get snacks for a few weeks. You know how it is," she says, kind of laughing but not the way you laugh when something's actually funny. "What about you, Sam? You got plans? Or do you gots any 'plans'?" She puts quotes around the word "plans" like she's doodling in the air, and I know she means the afterschool activities. Superhero stuff. "You know, them jawns."

"Oh, you know, the usual stuff," I reply, trying to play it cool but feeling about as cool as a hot stove. "Hopefully, no plans. I'd rather have some peace and quiet for like at least a day or two."

Jamila's eyes flicker for just a moment, like a really quick blink, when she catches on to what we're not actually saying. "I met Sam at our afterschool activities, actually. It's been good, really engaging," she chimes in, and for a fraction of a second, Kate's eyes do something. I don't even catch what they did, just that her face changes expression so fast I don't even know if Kate notices.

"Engaging's one way to put it," I try to laugh it off, but there's that rain cloud again. It's just getting darker.

"Sounds like you're keeping busy then," Kate says, and I can't help but feel like every word's got a double meaning. It's like walking on a tightrope, except I'm really bad at balancing. I don't know how much longer I can keep this up without falling flat on my face. "Can't believe my best friend is getting engaged at fourteen!"

"That's not what I said!" I protest, thumping Kate in the chest. She goes staggering a couple of feet, skidding down against the sidewalk. "Oh my G-d, I am so sorry."

Kate just laughs, something harsh and almost wet bubbling up in her throat. But the laugh quickly mutates into something genuine. "God damn. When did you become a boxer, dude? That hurt."

"Do you need medical assistance? I have some bandaids--" Jamila offers, but Kate waves her off, getting back to her feet, stretching herself, hopping back and forth a little bit and then shaking her arms out.

"No, no, I'm good, girl. Damn. That was a rush. When'd you get that beef?" Kate repeats, her expression suddenly piqued, going from uncomfortable storm cloud to uncomfortably laser focused on me. I notice, for the first time, Kate actually looking at me, rather than just sort of at me, if the distinction makes any sense. She looks at my arms, my legs. My callused skin. My dense knuckles, almost leathery. "Jesus."

I laugh nervously, scratching the back of my head. "Just training. My bones get hard really fast because of, you know. The cat scratch stuff."

"Crazy. You'll have to teach me how to do that some day. I could use knuckles like those," Kate replies, hawking a loogie down into a nearby storm drain. "Soz, that was gross."

I wave it off. "Dude, I spit teeth, it's fine. You sure you're okay?"

She looks better than okay, honestly. Like there's a fire in her eyes now, life suddenly returning. I see a spark and I'm glad to see it. I'm not sure how punching her in the boob helped with that, but I'll take what I can get. "I'm super, Small. Y'all need a taxi home?"

I wave her off. "Dude, you literally… Man, don't worry about it. Let's walk. You cool with walking and talking?"

Kate looks at me, grinning, almost a little manic looking. "One condition, Biggie Smalls."

"Yeah?" I ask, glancing at Jamila, who glances at me.

"I wanna hear about the t-rex dude. You gotta tell me that story. Or like, you know…" She leans in close and whispers. "You can tell me your cover story or whatever. I just wanna know what a real t-rex looks like. All the videos are in the middle of the pouring rain, super foggy. Impossible to see shit."

I thump her on the back - GENTLY this time. "Sure. I'll tell you allllll about it, Smith." Then, I thump her a little harder, and she catches herself before she can stumble into a fall. She looks at me and jerks her hand forward to pinch my nose. I consider retaliation, but I just sigh and start laughing instead.

Everything feels normal. Everything is fine.

"Deal," Kate replies.