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“Coach, can I ask you something about Layne?”
“That depends. What is it?”
“Layne hardly played unless someone was injured, especially back then. You awarded her a scholarship when you didn’t have to.”
“You want to know why?”
“I guess so, yeah.”
“Layne never asked for anything. She never begged me for playing time, never argued with me about not getting on the floor enough, or the role I gave her in running the second team. She showed up to every single practice early and was the last to leave. She picked up the balls some of you left behind and put them away. She had no problem handing you water bottles and towels or keeping stats for me, and she even helped break down film for us sometimes. We’re a small coaching staff, so we don’t have the time or the ability to do the same things that every big team can. Layne was probably one of the main reasons we made it to the NCAA tournament this year. I saw her effort, and while it didn’t always make sense to have her on the court, I wanted to reward that somehow, so I did. Then, it turned out, she had something else in her I’m not even sure that I noticed, and she helped us on the court, too. I wish she were sticking around for another year. We could really use her. And I know I’d love to watch her develop into the player she was clearly meant to be.”
“I wish that, too,” Shay replied.
Now that it was official and she was going back to Dunbar for a fifth year, Shay felt a lot better. It had been hanging over her head since the lockdown that there was a chance the NCAA would tell them, ‘Never mind,’ and kick them to the curb, and because she hadn’t passed that class, she’d have to go back for at least one semester, possibly in person or possibly remotely, and complete it in order to earn her diploma in the winter. It wasn’t what she’d wanted, but she would’ve done it. Now, she’d have to take a full course load, but she’d be able to play, and that was all that mattered. She could still graduate in December but continue playing in the spring. It was the best outcome she could ask for. Well, the best outcome would’ve been for Layne to be there with her, but since that wasn’t happening, Shay wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
“I’m going out to shoot around,” Shay said, holding her ball at her side.
“Okay, honey. Dinner will be ready in about an hour,” her mom replied.
Shay wanted to roll her eyes because she was almost twenty-three years old, and her mother was still treating her like a kid going out to play in the sprinkler or something. She didn’t, though. Everyone around her was doing their best to adjust to this new, terrible version of normal where the whole world had stopped. While it was summer and people were starting to take more risks after lockdowns and quarantines, everyone was still being warned not to put themselves or others at risk. Shay felt lucky because she only had her parents at home, and they were being cautious. Her three sisters were being smart, too. Layne was very smart and keeping herself safe. Shay realized, as she pushed the door open to go outside, that she’d just put Layne up into the same thought as her family. She had other friends, and she obviously cared about them, but Layne was someone she still hoped could be more than a friend one day when all of this ended.
The basketball goal in the driveway had been a birthday gift to Shay one year after they’d moved into the house, and it allowed her a place to practice without having to be around anyone else. She’d been going out every day, getting in at least a hundred shots from different spots on the court, but usually staying out there for as long as she could just shooting around, working on her dribbling, and running imaginary plays with imaginary players to keep herself prepared and ready for when the first practices would start. It was also out of boredom. Shay didn’t have a job. She’d thought about getting something part-time, but practically everything had gone remote, and she didn’t want to work around people if she could help it. Her parents were letting her stay at home rent-free, and soon, she’d be back on campus and in her dorm, so there wasn’t much of a point.
Outside of basketball practice in the driveway, Shay spent most of her time watching basketball on her computer: some of her old games and other classic WNBA and NBA games that ESPN was running since only some sports were just getting started back up again, so they still needed to run old stuff. She also spent as much time as she could on the phone with Layne, who had started her internship. Talking to her during the day had gotten difficult because of that, but they had their nightly chats, and Shay practically lived for those.
When she finished her shootaround, she went inside and showered before having dinner with her parents and telling them that everything was official with school. She practically shoved the food into her mouth because Layne was supposed to call soon, and she didn’t want to miss it.
“Why are you always in such a hurry when we eat dinner?” her dad asked.
“I’m not,” she lied.
“Is it the girl I always hear you talking to?” her mom asked.
“What? No. What?”
“Oh. Is it Eliza? I thought you broke up.”
“No, it’s not Eliza. We did break up.”
“Then, who is it?” her dad followed up.
“How did you hear me talking to someone exactly, Mom?”
“I went downstairs to bring you your laundry, and I heard you practically giggling on the phone, so I turned my butt around and went back upstairs. I was trying to protect your privacy, but I heard a girl’s voice, Shay.”
“Don’t make a big deal out of this, okay?”
“What is there to make a big deal about?”
“It’s someone from the team, Mom.”
“Oh, well. Okay, I guess. It sounded like you were talking about more than basketball.”
“We were. She’s… a friend. She graduated.”
“Was this that Martin?” her dad asked.
Shay was surprised he even remembered Martin’s name and said, “No, it’s Layne.”
