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Authors: Samantha Gudger

BOOK: A Game Worth Watching
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Emma
circled an empty space on the clipboard amidst the arrows. “They’re leaving the
baseline wide open and you’ve been slipping through the cracks in their defense
all night long.” She thought back to the look-at-me-I’m brilliant move Ashley
used to beat her in their one-on-one match at practice a while back. It was the
perfect plan, the perfect unexpected surprise play to end it all.

“I’ve
only ever done that move in practice,” Ashley protested, knowing exactly what
Emma expected of her. “And never with an actual defender.”

“Then
now’s your chance.”

“Emma,
no. It should be you.”

“There
are twenty seconds left in this game and I’m the highest scorer.” Emma wasn’t
trying to brag. She was merely stating a fact for strategic reasons. “Everyone
expects me to take the final shot. That’s why it’s so much better this way,”
she said, tapping the clipboard with the marker.

Ashley
shook her head. “I can’t—”

“Yes,
you can,” Emma said firmly, not wanting to hear excuses or allow Ashley to hold
herself back. “This team needs you out there, focused and confident. You got
it?”

Ashley
gulped, fear not completely gone from her eyes, and nodded. The girls on either
side of her slapped her back, murmuring words of encouragement.

“All
right.” Emma glanced up and met the eyes of her teammates staring down at her.

At
her—not through her.

Emma
felt her chest tighten. For the first time all season, she actually felt like
she belonged to a real team. A team that could prove to everyone they had what
it took to beat the number one ranked team in the league. Did each of her
teammates know how much they were needed in the last twenty seconds of this
game? Did they know how Emma was,
gulp
, proud of them for how far they’d all come
this season? Maybe now was the time to tell them, but she doubted she could
cram everything she wanted to say into the remaining five seconds of the
timeout. Besides, sometimes words failed to encompass the depth of feelings,
especially when there was a chance they would gush forth and make Emma sound
like some sappy girl.

Emma
thrust her hand into the middle of the huddle. “Let’s do this.”

Their
team cheer was barely heard amid the roar of the crowd. Everyone was on their
feet, clapping, stomping, yelling. The stands may not have been filled, but the
fans that were there made it seem like it.

Emma
dropped the clipboard on the floor next to the bench, knowing she wouldn’t need
it again. She felt someone nudge her shoulder.

“Win
or lose, you’ve done good tonight, Poverty Child.”

“You
haven’t done too bad yourself, Ice Queen.”

Lauren
laughed and nodded across the court toward Ashley. “I guess you were right,”
Lauren said. “The freshman can play.”

Emma
smiled. “I know.”

“You
think she can do this?” Lauren asked, no doubt referring to the pressure filled
win-or-lose shot.

Emma
glanced at Ashley. The girl who had befriended her only two months ago even though
Emma had done everything to deter her. The girl who was feisty and annoying,
yet somehow too smart for her own good. The girl whose love of basketball was
second only to Emma’s.

Emma
swallowed the lump in her throat, internally scowling at herself for getting
personally attached to the kid. “Absolutely,” she said in answer to Lauren’s
question. And she meant it.

“Good,”
Lauren said with a nod. “Because I really want to win.”

Emma
laughed. “We all do.”

Lauren
slapped Emma’s back before matching up on defense. Emma took her place opposite
Valerie, hoping her plan worked. Evergreen’s number twenty-one stood at the
baseline with the ball as her teammates struggled to get open. Bradshaw didn’t
make it easy. Emma and Lauren marked their people move for move, preventing any
kind of short pass. With no other option, number twenty-one threw an overhead
pass toward the Evergreen post player at midcourt.

The
ball reached the height of the arc and started its decent. The Evergreen player
held out her hands, waiting for the ball to fall into them. One step was all
Shiloh took in front of her opponent to seize the ball and steal Evergreen’s
one and only opportunity to score.

The
transition from defense to offense happened flawlessly. Lauren sprinted
downcourt to help Shiloh, while Emma filled the weak side lane. Ashley and
Peyton raced to get into position as Evergreen set up on defense.

Five-on-five
at Bradshaw’s basket with ten seconds left on the clock.

Lauren
passed the ball to Emma and set up on the left side. Emma snapped the ball to
Ashley on the right and then cut through the key to set a screen for Shiloh.
Shiloh retraced Emma’s steps to the top of the paint where she snatched the lob
pass from Ashley out of the air, while Emma snuck along the baseline and popped
out the opposite side. Lauren slid down, set the screen for Emma, and then
rolled toward the basket. Emma sprinted to the top of the key where she met
Shiloh’s pass and Valerie, ready for the final one-on-one face-off as the
seconds clicked down.

Valerie
crouched low, waiting for Emma to make her move. They looked at each other with
sweat beading on their foreheads, faces flushed, and the desire to win burning
in their eyes.

Emma
dribbled between her legs, jabbing one way only to come back and jab the other
way, always in control, biding her time with the clock and checking Valerie’s
readiness. Valerie, sweat pouring off her face, kept her focus on the ball,
trying to anticipate Emma’s next move. During their first game earlier in the
season, Emma had won their end of game face-off. Now, Valerie wanted revenge.
Emma smiled.

Show
time.

“You
ready to lose?” Emma asked.

“You
wish,” Valerie growled.

Valerie
was shorter than Emma, but she was quick, which probably explained why she felt
confident playing Emma so tight on defense, wanting her to fight for the shot
or the drive or the pass. Emma lunged forward with a dribble, then pulled back
to create space for a double crossover. Valerie was a split second behind as
Emma drove by her, but Emma counted on the girl’s quickness as she initiated a
spin move. Relying on the closeness of Valerie’s defensive position, Emma
stretched her arm out farther than usual. Instead of completing her move, she
executed a behind the back bounce pass behind Valerie. The ball traveled across
the key to Ashley cutting up from the baseline. Selling the play, Emma faked
the lay-up, and Valerie, thinking Emma still had the ball, jumped to block the
shot. Valerie collided with Emma in her desperate attempt for the ball, and
they flew out of bounds. With no foul called, Emma watched from the floor as
the fate of the game landed on the freshman’s shoulders.

Two
defenders collapsed on Ashley for the double team, but the kid faked right,
drawing one defender with her, before she reversed direction and split between
them, cutting through the middle of the key. Another defender popped in front
of her, obstructing her path to the basket, and without missing a beat, Ashley
executed the same two-step move she’d pulled against Emma. Emma watched as
Ashley—the girl the world tried to keep down, the girl no one expected
anything from—took flight.

Suspended
in the air, Ashley stretched her arm skyward, the ball in her upturned palm.
With her face scrunched in determination, Ashley flipped the ball in the air
and players and fans watched its journey to the basket as the buzzer sounded.

***

Silence.

Silence
was all Emma heard. Silence when Ashley’s winning shot passed through the net.
Silence when the look on Ashley’s face shifted from determination to shock.
Silence when everything in Emma’s world clicked into place.

Of
course, in truth, the gym had exploded with sound. Shouts and claps thundered
around them as fans flooded onto the court to share in this impossible moment.

Emma
pushed Valerie off her and before she took two steps, Ashley jumped into her
arms. Words couldn’t articulate anything about this moment, so they did what
any girls would do: they screamed. The rest of the team, including a hobbling Madison,
surrounded them in seconds, jumping on top of one another until they fell in a
heap to the floor with Emma on the bottom of the dog pile. Talk about bony
knees and elbows! Eight girls who began the season as losers, celebrating now
as friends—more or less. Even Lauren violated their no-touch policy to
embrace Emma in a hug.

The
moment was not one to last forever. One by one they got picked apart by family
and friends until it was only Emma left with a smile of shock on her face.

Bradshaw
had won.

Emma
had coached her team to victory.

Winning
one basketball game may not be a big deal for most people, but for Emma it was
monumental. Girls had listened to her, obeyed her instructions, treated her
like a part of the team rather than a person wasting space, and here they stood
as victors over their cross-town rival, for the first time in ten years.

Maybe
she wasn’t completely worthless after all.

The
weight of Emma’s realization almost crushed her. For the first time in her
life, she felt like she actually did something good. She didn’t know if she
should laugh or cry or fall to her knees in gratitude, so she stood in the
middle of screaming fans, looking for a familiar pair of blue eyes.

Scanning
the gymnasium, she saw the Evergreen players watch in disbelief from the
sidelines as Bradshaw celebrated their victory, she saw Mr. Thompson slumped in
a chair fanning himself with a clipboard—the pressure of coaching
assistant too much for him to take—and she waved to Mr. and Mrs. Ledger
who smiled down at her from the bleachers. Hundreds of people surrounded her,
but Emma finally found Riley.

Their
eyes met at the same time. He smiled, like he knew exactly how much this moment
meant to her, and she laughed. Wanting to close the distance between them as fast
as possible, Emma pushed through the crowd and jumped into his outstretched
arms. It was a good thing Riley was strong, otherwise, her momentum would’ve
flattened him.

“Em,
you were amazing.” He tightened his arms around her. “I knew you could do it.”

A
lump formed in her throat, preventing her from responding, so she just clung to
her best friend.

It
only took Tom and Jerry and the rest of the guys seconds to surround them. They
pulled her from Riley’s grasp to give her hugs of their own and congratulate
her on her coaching debut.

“So,”
Jerry said, punching her lightly on the arm. “Now that you can’t deny the fact
you’re a superstar, what are you going to do?”

The
guys waited for her answer. Aside from relishing in Bradshaw’s victory, she
hadn’t thought about anything beyond the next five seconds and preserving this
moment of perfection. But then she caught Riley’s eye from across the circle
and smiled. She couldn’t explain how the hatred of a group of girls could mold
into trust, how a girl with nothing to offer could end up coaching her team to
victory, or how a guy like Riley could be interested in a girl like her. But if
she was good enough to gain the trust of an entire team of girls and good
enough to be a coach, maybe she was good enough to be Riley’s friend and
his—gulp—girlfriend.

She
laughed at the realization, knowing the answer to Jerry’s question. “This.”

She
closed the distance separating her from Riley, wrapped her arms around his
neck, and pressed her lips to his, finally feeling like his equal. She felt his
initial surprise, but then his arms tightened around her and he kissed her
back.

The
guys hooted their approval, and she heard Jerry mutter, “It’s about time.”

When
they finally pulled apart, Riley’s eyebrows scrunched together in concern when
he looked at her. “Em? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

She
hadn’t realized she was, but then she felt the tears sliding down her cheeks
and she laughed. “I don’t know.”

“I
knew it.” He threw up an arm in defeat. “I’m a horrible kisser.”

She
laughed. They all did. “No, it’s not that,” she said. “I guess…” She didn’t
have much, but when she looked around the gym, she saw her teammates
celebrating, the guys—her friends—smiling at her, the scoreboard
lit up with the victory of a game she had played and coached, and finally
Riley. With one arm still wrapped around her waist, unwilling to let her go,
Riley wiped tears from her cheeks, waiting for her answer.

“I
guess it’s not so bad being a girl,” she said. “I guess it’s not so bad being
me.”

Poverty
child. Loser. Poor girl. Tomboy. As far back as she could remember labels had
defined who she was and what her future would hold. Maybe now she was entitled
to add a few of her own labels to the list: Basketball player. Coach. Friend.
Girlfriend. And maybe, just maybe, college-bound.

Acknowledgments

A huge thank you to the many people
who helped make my dream of writing a book a reality:

Verity Hiskey, my sister and
friend, thank you for loving my story from the beginning. Your insight and love
of all things good inspired me every step of the way.

Lindsay Paige – For taking a
newbie like me under your wing and introducing me to the wonderful world of
self-publishing. Your encouragement and expertise were invaluable in getting me
here.

Darcie Sherrick – For
infusing even more laughter into my life and for constantly reassuring me that
my story was good enough even though I wanted to scrap it and start over. Thank
you also for your expertise, your honesty, all of your support, and most of all,
your fine tooth comb.

To all of my beta readers for
taking time to read a stranger’s story and helping me see my story with fresh
eyes. Your support and feedback were instrumental.

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