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“And the name everyone’s been waiting for—our two-time All-American and all-time leading women’s scorer…Theo McCall!” the announcer’s voice boomed through the arena.

I lightly jogged past my teammates, high-fiving everyone as I ran onto the court. Every single nerve I’d been experiencing earlier melted away completely. There was nothing but me and the game out there.

When I looked over the crowd, I was surprised by how many people were there. Usually, our first home game pulled some of our best numbers, followed by a bunch of pretty dull crowds until the next big ticket game.

This game, however, was still just as high energy as our first game of the season.

It wasn’t as packed, but it was still busier than I imagined it was going to be before coming in.

We’d sold out games last season, but no one had known if the momentum was going to keep up.

It looked like not only was the momentum there, but it was even more intense than it had been last season.

People were really starting to care.

It was impossible not to be energized by the crowd.

I jogged out, throwing my hands in the air to get everyone to cheer even louder.

It was my favorite move to pull on the court.

I didn’t feel like I had that much power in day-to-day life—I was mostly just a college student who was told what to do by my professors and coaching staff and parents—but out here, I was able to command an entire crowd of fifteen thousand. Just me.

I looked over toward the student section and scanned for Maya’s face.

The lights of the area flashed over everyone’s faces, illuminating them.

But there were way too many faces to sort through to find her.

I kept hoping I’d somehow be drawn to her, like I’d be able to find her face in a giant crowd no matter the circumstances.

It seemed like maybe I didn’t have that superpower after all.

Or she just wasn’t there for the game.

I brushed the feeling away without a second thought. I’d never needed anyone there for me at a game—my parents came when they could to support me, but there were a lot of times they weren’t able to. It was just me and my team and the stands filled with people. That was what mattered the most to me.

It wasn’t difficult to lock into the game from there. I immediately jumped into my game day headspace, the same one I’d been able to access since I was a kid.

The game had always made sense to me. I saw where the plays fit together and how everyone moved around on the court.

I could confidently play off of people’s strengths and knew where to get the ball and when so we could score.

Basketball had always felt as easy as breathing.

The older I got, the more I’d hear things like basketball IQ get thrown around.

Recruiters especially, even as young as middle school, knew what I had, usually even before I understood how good I truly was.

Mostly, I just knew I was crushing my standard competition growing up, and it wasn’t until I started playing seriously against other teams across the United States that I felt challenged.

And even then, I usually found a way to come out on top.

The roar of noise—music, people yelling, players talking shit—all became white noise. Occasionally, something would break through, and I’d engage, usually throw a few choice words out. But the harder we shut out a team, the harder it was for them to come up with anything to say to us.

Even so, it didn’t stop GJ from getting technicals left and right.

“Oh, that was bullshit!” GJ shouted.

“An elbow’s an elbow,” one of the referees said and shrugged. “Watch your limbs, Mitchell.”

When the ref turned around, GJ scrunched up her nose. “Watch your limbs, Mitchell,” she said back in a quieter, mocking tone, knowing exactly how loud she could be to avoid getting in trouble.

I snorted. “Avoid an ejection, GJ. How about that? ”

GJ waved her hand at me and Gemma and I laughed.

After coming back from halftime, the score was 75-30 in our favor.

It wasn’t expected that the tide would turn anytime soon, and the other school would come back, but I wasn’t about to let them off easy.

Coach Darlene would most likely keep me in until late in the fourth quarter, once she felt like the score was confidently in our favor.

As wide as the gap was now, I wasn’t going to fall back.

“Jesus, McCall—let them breathe a little,” Mags said later after I hit my fourth three-pointer of the third quarter. It’d only been a few minutes, and I felt a little bad for showing off—I knew that I was—but I couldn’t resist.

“Can’t keep a dog from biting,” GJ said, and we slapped our hands together before running into position for the next play.

We kept the momentum up, bumping the score to nearly 90 points while the other team had only gotten four the entire quarter.

Even though the scoring was low on their end, I knew Coach Darlene wasn’t going to be happy about letting any points at all slip.

There was no reason our defense should be weak enough that we’re letting points by.

“Keep the energy up, ladies! Let’s make it happen!” Coach Darlene yelled from near the bench.

At the start of the next play, GJ sent the ball flying to me, crossing past two players and effortlessly bouncing the ball past another.

I couldn’t help but smile a little bit. She’d always matched my playing style—going big and bold wherever possible.

We were more prone to turnovers and mistakes because of it, but I’d rather take the risk and fuck up my stats a little bit than always play safe.

I loved playing with GJ because of it; it was going to be hard to have to leave Lakeside Green, mostly because of her.

I loved the entire family I had here, but GJ had taught me so much and done so much for me on and off the court.

She was without a doubt my best friend, and I felt good knowing the team would be left in her hands when I graduated.

I dribbled the ball, running through my play options in my head.

I was usually right in guessing where people were going to go and when, which direction they’d run based on how their feet were positioned or where they’d been consistently going all game.

I logged their strengths and weaknesses, only getting better as games progressed.

There wasn’t anyone around from my team who could safely take the ball. The player in front of me attempted blocking me, moving side-to-side and eyeing my every move. I quickly moved around her and sent the ball flying, shooting it from nearly half-court. It swished through the net effortlessly.

Even though it wasn’t a game-winning point by any means, the entire arena stood up like it was.

A low hum of people chanting my name started up, growing louder and louder.

I couldn’t help but laugh watching the sea of people go absolutely nuts over me.

For the first time—at this low-stakes, washout game of all places—I really understood how much people at this school cared about me .

“Three-o! Three-o!” the crowd cheered, stomping their feet and clapping.

I’d seen it over the years and I knew the fans viewed me as special. The number of jerseys with my name and number on it were higher than every other player on the team. But I was really seeing it now.

I looked back over at the student section, throwing a glance that way before getting into position for the next play.

As if spotlighted, I finally saw Maya. I smiled at the audience, half playing it off like I was smiling at everyone while keeping my eyes focused on Maya.

I didn’t know if she could tell from so far away that I was looking at her, but I hoped she could.

The rest of the game went by without much fanfare. The other team eventually got tired of putting up a fight and seemed to realize they were never going to win it. Toward the end of the game, Coach Darlene finally pulled me and let me rest.

“I can’t believe how many people are still here,” I said and wiped off my forehead as I threw myself down on the bench. I took long pulls from my water bottle.

“They’re here for you, McCall. You manage to make a one-sided game exciting,” she said, slapping a hand hard on my back.

The pride in her voice was evident. She’d told me when she recruited me that getting to coach me was going to be one of the biggest honors of her life.

I’d been one of the only female five-star recruits Lakeside Green had ever had in their program history.

She’d always made it clear that they didn’t have the prestige or the money, but she would still coach the hell out of me—and hopefully bring the rest of the team with us.

So far, it seemed to be working.

After the game, we did our usual handshakes with the opposing team, and I ran through a post-game on-court interview.

I’d received pretty significant media training, but all it’d done was give me enough cookie-cutter ways to get through interviews that I barely thought about them.

It was my biggest flaw; I loved playing the sport and talking about the sport, but I didn’t really want to talk about me playing the sport.

After spending far too long talking about the half-court three-pointer I hit, I excused myself and headed over to the student section.

I tried to keep it subtle, knowing that I didn’t have much time.

Most people waited to see significant others and family after the entire circus of the game was done—the locker room talk, the post-game panel, the debrief with teammates as we all talked shit and showered.

We’d most likely all be going out together tonight.

But I had to see Maya before I got sucked up into all of that.

I looked around for her up in the student section, trying to spot her hair or smile.

Maya and I locked eyes as I cut across the floor toward the student section.

She made her way down the bleacher steps and joined me.

She was wearing a Lakeside Green University shirt again, a different one from last time, but just as flattering.

Every single time I saw her, I was completely floored by how beautiful she was.

It was impossible to believe that she was single, that she was even real .

It was devastating to me that we’d been on the same campus for so long and had never crossed paths before now.

We met in the same spot as before, the metal barricade separating the court and the stands the only thing between us.

“Congrats on the win,” she said.

“I didn’t realize you had so many Lakeside Green shirts.”

“Me? I bleed green, you know me.”

My lips twisted into a smile. “Right.”

“Iris let me borrow more clothes from her. Getting me to two basketball games has been the win of her life. I don’t think anyone has ever been so excited for anything; she’s about to buy me a jersey.”

“It’d look good on you,” I said before I could fully realize what I was saying.

But it was fine because this was what we were doing anyway—we were supposed to be flirting, supposed to be all over each other in public.

I wasn’t going to take advantage of it and was going to pretty much exclusively follow Maya’s lead, but one or two flirty comments wouldn’t hurt anyone. It was all plausible deniability.

“I’ll make sure it’s a twenty-five,” Maya said.

I tugged at my own jersey, twenty-five on my chest. “Represent. I’ll sign it for you.”

“Please do. It’ll be what makes it possible for me to buy a house in the future. I’ll sell it when you retire in a couple of decades and go down as the greatest to ever do it. ”

“Bold words from someone who doesn’t watch the sport.”

Maya shrugged playfully. “I’m a quick learner.”

I glanced up at Maya’s friend, Iris, who was talking to a couple of other people. I waved when Iris looked down our way and then spotted that she was wearing a Lakeside Green men’s basketball shirt.

“Wait, did you guys want to go to a game? Men’s basketball, I mean,” I asked. “We can probably go out with the guys after. You said Iris had a crush on one of them, right?”

Maya’s eyes sparkled as she put her hands on my arms. I stayed as normal as I could, but it was impossible when any part of her was touching me. It was the most physical contact we’d ever had; I was going to relish in it, even if it was embarrassing for me.

“You’re a genius ,” she said.