The game starts, and the gymnasium is pulsating with a waving uproar of noise and suspense. The booming cheers echo off the polished floors, and our pace on the court matches that of the crowd around us. I don’t start, just like Coach said, but by the third quarter, right after halftime, I’m in. I look over at my dad, his place right behind where Coach is pacing the sidelines. I notice Coach occasionally walking over to my dad, the two in deep conversation whenever there’s a lull on the court. My dad watches me intently as soon as I take my place. Running up and down the court, passing the ball to my teammates while making sure to keep a close eye on my footwork. It’s a strenuous game, considering I haven’t been in a game with this much pressure since last school year, and I’m breaking a sweat by the time fourth quarter rolls around.
With the last few minutes ticking away on the time clock, the scoreboard displays bright glowing numbers in our favor. Before the last buzzer rings, we’re already celebrating our win: 99 to 76. The bleachers start to empty, some of the crowd filing onto the glossy basketball court, and as we’re all celebrating the first game and win of the season, I catch Teeny running toward me. Without even thinking about it, I swoop down and lift her into my arms.
“Good game, Hayes!” she squeals. Her elbow hooks over my neck where my skin feels slippery with sweat, but she doesn’t pull away. The bows on her pigtails tickle my cheek, and I give one of them a light tug as I set her back on solid ground.
We’re interrupted just then by my parents. My dad lands a hard pat on my shoulder, pride bursting from his eyes. “I talked to Coach before the game,” he tells me. “Said you’re doing really well so far. Might even have you start at the next game.”
I eye Teeny, and she grins an encouraging smile up at me. It’s a private exchange, her expressing her praise and my gratitude for her seeking me out immediately after the game, something I hoped for as the clock ticked through the last seconds of the game.
“Dad, this is Teeny,” I say to my dad, tampering down the urge to pull her into another tight embrace. “She lives next door.”
“Oh, hi! Nice to see you again,” he tells her. Teeny responds with a polite smile.
My mom places a gentle hand on Teeny’s shoulder. “Hi, Teeny.”
“Well, we’ll let you celebrate with your team. Don’t be out too late,” my dad warns. He and my mom turn to leave the crowded gym, and I’m left there with Teeny.
“You riding with Josh to the beach?”
“Actually, he’s going with some other guys on the team. It’s just me.”
I smile. “Mind if I hitch a ride?”
“Sure,” she says, grinning back at me. “I’ll be at my car.”
I stop by the locker room to grab my things and change. When I make it to the parking lot and find Teeny standing next to her car, I drop my bag on the concrete and stop inches from her.
“Hi.”
“Hey.”
I peer around me, making note of the almost empty lot before ducking my face down to kiss her. She responds by tilting her head back and lifting herself up onto her toes. I lean into her, making her take a step backward to her car. We both fall against the window, and I cage her into me with my hands braced against the hood of the car.
I’m slowly learning that each time I kiss Teeny, I discover something new about her. The first time I kissed her, I learned that she was nervous. Like really nervous. I didn’t realize it until I kissed her again, and her body wasn’t as stiff and unsure. And now that I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve kissed her, I’m noticing that she’s become softer, more loose and yielding. Her breathing isn’t labored anymore. Instead, it’s sensual with her soft sighs and even softer lips. She doesn’t lock up anymore, uncertain of how to follow my lead. She lets me move her, guide her, and it somehow calms me knowing she’s willing to trust me.
When I pull away, Teeny looks around us. Her wary eyes shift side to side, and I cup the side of her face, refusing to create more space between us than there already is.
“I like you.” The words splinter out of me like fireworks. They shoot through my chest, bursts of light going off in loud booms. I feel like my heart is going to explode. And while I tell her that I like her, I don’t know how to tell her it isn’t as simple as that.
I like her.A lot.
Her cheeks flush, and she presses her hand into my chest, leaving it there to rest. “With the way you keep kissing me, I sure hope so,” she responds. “Unless you’re going around kissing other girls willy-nilly.”
I laugh. “No. No, I’m not.”
“Good. ’Cause I like you too.” Morefireworks.
“And…we’re only kissing each other.” She nods with the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen. “Sounds like something only boyfriends and girlfriends do.”
“Yeah?”
My smile matches hers, the fingers resting along her jaw and her neck tracing idle circular patterns. “Yeah.”
“Does that mean you want to be my boyfriend?” she asks shyly. She ducks her head bashfully, and I resist the urge to pinch her cheek.
“Is that okay?” I ask. Because I need her to be okay with it. Me, her, us. Me touching her and kissing her. Me playing this much significance in her life. I need to know that all of it’s okay with her. Because, until now, she’s done nothing but offer solace. She carries this warm glow that somehow silences all the loud and chaos. She’s made everything in my life okay. And all I want to do is do the same for her.
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s okay.”
