Full Court Press (14 page)

The game had been over for more than thirty minutes. Nobody had left the change room yet. That was okay. At least it had given Kia a chance to stop crying. I'd never seen her cry like that before. I didn't think I'd ever forget that look on her face as the ball bounced off the rim and into the waiting arms of one of their players and the buzzer sounded, ending the game. There was a rush of screaming and yelling as their parents and students and teachers came streaming off the bleachers and surrounded the team.

Kia held it together for a while. She didn't cry there out on the court. Not while
we were shaking hands with the other team. Not while we stood there and received our second-place trophies. Not while we watched them get their trophies. But as soon as we got into the change room, she burst into tears, just bawling. And there was nothing anybody could do. I tried to talk to her, but it wasn't any good.

“Your parents are all waiting out there,” Mr. Roberts said. “We have to get going, but before we do, I want to say something.”

He started to move around the room and we waited.

“The other team may have scored more points than us, but we didn't lose. They may have gotten the first-place trophies, but we were second to none. And we didn't lose the game as much as we simply ran out of time. There are no losers in this room. Now everybody come here,” he said, standing in the middle of the room.

We all got off the benches and came over to where he stood. Kia looked down at the floor as she came forward.

“Now everybody, put your hands into the center,” Mr. Roberts said as he extended his hands. Everybody did the same.

“When we walked into this room today, we were a team… maybe the best team I've ever coached. When we walk out now, we're no longer a team.” He paused and I felt the weight of his words. “And I want to say to you… to all of you… how very, very proud I am of you.” He paused again. “Now for one last time… break!” he yelled.

“Those who need a ride home, I'll meet you out by my car. As for the others, go out and let your parents show you how proud they are of you too.”

Mr. Roberts gathered up his stuff and left the room. Quickly others followed until Kia and I were left alone in the room. She looked like either she hadn't been paying attention to what Mr. Roberts had said or she didn't believe him.

I got up and walked toward her. “Come on, Kia, it's time to go,” I said softly.

She sniffled slightly and nodded her head.

I turned around at the sound of the door opening. It was Roy.

“I forgot my bag,” he said as he reached under one of the benches and pulled it out.

He looked over at us. “Are you still crying?”

Kia just sniffled in response. I knew she
wasn't any more happy about crying than she was about missing the shot.

Roy slowly shook his head. “You're not the only one who's upset you know.”

“She feels bad enough as it is, Roy,” I said.

“She feels bad? All of us are upset, even those of us who didn't miss the shot, but you don't see any of us crying, do you? This is why I didn't want you two on the team in the first place.”

“Come on, Roy, give her a break!” I snapped.

“Don't give me a hard time,” Roy said. “Remember what Mr. Roberts said… we aren't teammates any more.”

What a jerk! He was blaming Kia and already going back to threatening me and —

“Now all we are is friends,” Roy said.

“Friends?” I echoed.

“Yeah. How many times to we have to go over this before you get it?”

“I think I understand,” I said, holding my hands up in front of me.

“Good. Both of you go and see your parents. They're standing out there looking all nervous.”

We both got up and grabbed our bags.

“And Kia,” Roy said, “if anybody even thinks
about giving you a hard time about missing that shot, then you talk to me… and I'll make sure nobody bothers you again. See you tomorrow.”

Roy left, the door swinging shut behind him. Roy was one of the biggest surprises of my whole life. But that didn't help Kia right now.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Not right now, but I will be,” she answered. “It'll take about a year.

“A year?” I asked.

She nodded her head and smiled. “Yeah. Until next year when we beat Vista Heights in the finals.”

“Kia…,” I said, shaking my head slowly.

“What? Don't you think we can beat them next year?” she demanded. “We'll be a year older and bigger and better and —”

“That isn't it,” I said, cutting her off. “I just don't know if Vista will make it to the finals next year. We might have to beat some-body else for the championship.”

Kia flashed a big smile, and suddenly it wasn't just her who felt better.

Read all the titles in the Eric Walters basketball series.

Boot Camp
Eric Walters, Jerome Williams &
Johnnie Williams III
978-1-55143-695-1

Full Court Press
Eric Walters
978-1-55143-169-7

Hoop Crazy!
Eric Walters
978-1-55143-184-0

Long Shot
Eric Walters
978-1-55143-216-8

Off Season
Eric Walters
978-1-55143-237-3

Road Trip
Eric Waters
978-1-55143-201-4

Three on Three
Eric Walters
978-1-55143-170-3

Triple Threat
Eric Walters &nJerome Williams
978-1-55143-359-2

Underdog
Eric Walters
978-1-55143-302-8