Rez Ball by Byron Graves

Author:Byron Graves
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2023-09-12T00:00:00+00:00

I’m sitting in the locker room, hunched over in my chair, staring at my shoes as my teammates leave to get on the bus. There’s a towel draped over my head. Black Nikes pass by. Someone pats my shoulder. Red-and-black Adidas shoes stop. I’m broken inside. Defeated. Stupid. Lifeless. But my teammates pat and tap, comfort me without words. They’re saying good game. It’s okay.

There’s a heavy thud in the chair right next to mine, followed by the chomping sound of what must be an apple. “Aye, you did your best, Tre. Hold your head up,” Kevin says, chewing loud as hell. He puts his arm around my chair.

“Thanks,” I say, but so quiet I’m not sure he heard.

“It’s only the second game of the regular season.” Chomp. “Ain’t like we lost in the play-offs.” Crunch. “We still got twenty”—chomp—“More games to go. Can’t take losses like these so hard.” Gulp.

“I know. I just . . . I really, really wanted to beat those guys.”

“We will. We will. When it matters most. To go to state.” Dude is a total Captain America type. A glossy red apple appears in front of my face. “Gotta replenish. See you on the bus.” I take the apple and feel Kevin’s gigantic hand pat my back. “Hurry up and get dressed. You don’t want to be the guy everyone on the bus is waiting on. Learned that lesson a long time ago.” Kevin’s size-fifteen Nikes disappear, and the chomping sounds slowly fade away.

It’s quiet. I must be the last one left. I sit up and pull the towel off my head and look around at the empty locker. Only hours ago, we were all fired up. Thinking tonight would be the night we would finally beat Bemidji. Ugh. I grind my teeth.

Only an hour ago we were in here during halftime, thinking we still had a chance.

I set the apple on a chair and take my jersey off, holding it in my hand and looking at it. Do I even deserve to wear it? Maybe they would have won if Mason and Mike were playing instead of me tonight. Maybe I’m not as good at hooping as I thought I was.

I toss my jersey into my gym bag, pull off my trunks, and slip into some jeans and a hoodie. The door opens up and a gust of cold air sweeps in. “Dang, bro, what you doing in here still? Taking the longest shit of all time?” Dallas asks in a joking voice. “I’m just fucking with you. But for real. The guys are all waiting. They want to get to McDonald’s.”

“I know. My bad. I’m ready.”

“Kevin give you this?” Dallas asks, grabbing the apple off the chair and inspecting it like a detective at a crime scene.

“Yeah, he—”

Chomp. “He’s never shared an apple. Or any of his snacks. With any of us before. That big bastard must really like you,” Dallas says, chewing and talking with his mouth open.

“Yeah, you can have it,” I say, slapping him on the arm.

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