AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She’s an adult, technically. But she’s also mylittlesister.
“Holden?”
I straighten from my slouch. “Yeah. Still here. Sorry. What did you say?”
“Come by tomorrow, okay? I miss you.”
I smile, rubbing a hand against the back of my neck. “I will. I love you.”
“Love you too.”
She hangs up and I sink back against the bleachers.
Stare at the hoop.
Dr. Meyers was very thorough. Before I started the testing, he ran through the recovery process if I am a match and do decide to donate. I’m looking at eight to ten weeks after surgery until I’d be cleared to play basketball.
Between the delay for test results and actually scheduling surgery, that period wouldn’t start until early October at the absolute earliest.
I wouldn’t be able to play basketball this season.
My senior year.
My last chance to chase a professional career.
Gone, just like that.
That scares me more than the risks of bleeding, infection, or liver failure that Dr. Meyers also ran through.
As pathetic as it sounds, I don’t know who I am without basketball.
I’ve always played.
Basketball has been there for me in my darkest moments. The only thing I love anywhere near as much as I love Cassia, and many special moments with her are mixed in with the sport.
We played together as kids.
Now she comes to my college games, wearing my jersey.
Losing my shot at playing professionally? I don’t know what that would do to me. Part of meneedsto know if I could make it. If I have what it takes.
And it would be a bitter irony, losing basketball—which makes me happy—because of a woman who gave me life but then offered nothing but misery.
My phone buzzes again. I pull it out of my pocket, glance at the screen, and answer.
“Hey, Finn.”
“Hey! How’s Richmond?”
“Fine, I assume. I’m in Pembrooke.”
I continue staring out at the basketball court that’s been my happy place for as long as I remember. I don’t have a spot like this on campus. The basketball gym in the sports center is state-of-the-art. Everything is new and shiny and clean.
This court fits me better.
Cracked asphalt. Faded lines. Ragged strings hanging from the hoop.
“You are?” Finn’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts.
