Page 9 of Kicking It with the Point Guard

Sighing, I put my playbook away and grab my backpack, flipping the study room light off on my way out. I was secretly hoping to run into her again. But that didn’t go as planned.

This was probably my last chance to interact with her. I won’t be able to see her here again. Starting Wednesday, I’ll have a new student to tutor, and according to the email I got this morning, it will be in that study room.

A library assistant walks past me, putting the schedule up on the window, to let the other students know that the room will be off-limits during the scheduled time.

I can just imagine her walking up and seeing that her study room is now off limits. A small thread of guilt weaves its way through me, but I brush it aside. Now is not the time for this. I have too much to do to worry about a stranger.

A cute blond stranger who I can’t stop thinking about.

Coach would put me on the line for being this distracted. I shake my head. I need food.

I leave the library and stroll leisurely across campus. The warmer days of summer are almost over, and the wind carries the first hints of the cooler air of fall. I pause, tilting my head back and taking it in. I have a love-hate relationship with the summer season.

Summer is when my parents left me. Summer is when I got my heart broken for the first and last time. There’s no basketball in the summer. It’s hot and miserable and lonely.

But… Summer is when I found my best friend. Summer is when we grew close enough to be brothers. Summer has no gift-giving holidays. Summer is safe from people who just want to use me.

It’s a cruel mistress, summer. Luckily for me, I’ve got Oscar. He and his family helped me to replace some of the bad memories with good ones.

A sheet of paper slaps me in the face.

“Grab that paper! Please!” a desperate voice calls.

I pull the page plastered to my forehead away and look for the person it belongs to.

Bumblebee girl skids to a stop in front of me, breathing hard.

My heart skips a beat. Her blond hair is a mess from the wind, and her cheeks are red from running. She’s still clutching most of her stuff haphazardly against her chest, and her backpack dangles from one arm.

She looks like chaos incarnate… So why can I not stop staring? My cheeks heat, and I hold her paper out.

“Thanks,” she says breathlessly, ripping the paper out of my hand and turning to leave.

“Wait,” I say. “Do you need help?”

I gesture at her backpack. “I can hold that for you if you want to put your stuff in there properly.”

“No thanks. I already said we weren’t helping each other today, remember?” She doesn’t turn back around and stomps away from me.

Stubborn. I have no need for stubborn.

I resume my trek across campus. Bumblebee girl is still stomping in front of me, another paper almost escaping from her grasp, but she manages to hold on to it. She’s frowning and mumbling to herself.

She glances back, seeing me behind her, and stops, turning to face me once more.

“Stop following me.”

“I’m not following you.”

“Then why are you still there?”

“I’m going to the cafeteria.” I put my hands in my pockets.

She glances behind her. I assume it was her destination as well. Her cheeks turn the lightest shade of pink.

“Oh… Well… Wait until I’m farther away. What if people think you’re some kind of weird stalker?” She whirls around and does an awkward walk-run the rest of the way to the cafeteria, her things still tightly tucked against her chest.

Stalker, huh? That's a new one.

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