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An idea strikes me. “Hey … what if I guard her instead? I only have two
fouls. Plenty to spare.”
Danielle frowns at me. “And I take your girl?”
“Exactly. On offense we’ll still play shooting and point, but on defense
we’ll switch. If I get fouled out, it doesn’t matter. You’re our best player,
Danielle. You have to stay in.”
Our teammates look at each other. The ref blows the whistle.
“Okay,” Danielle says.
The last three minutes pass quickly. I guard the Candlehawk point guard
and draw two fouls when she’s trying to shoot, but the strategy works: She
only makes one out of four free throws. Candlehawk is now up by only two
points.
At just over a minute to go, their point guard drives to the basket. I
sprint after her and block her shot. My hand never actually touches hers, but
the ref calls a foul. My fifth and final one. I’ve officially fouled out of the
game. The crowd boos in anger.
“It’s all good,” I tell Danielle as I head to the bench. “Stay focused. You
can win this.”
Forty-five seconds to go. Thirty seconds to go. Candlehawk still leading
by two. I can’t sit still on the bench; I spring up and bounce where I stand.
Coach Fernandez is screaming, but no one is listening to her. All eyes are
on the court.
Fifteen seconds to go. Danielle bringing the ball down to our side of the
court. Ten seconds to go. Googy trying to get open for a pass. Five seconds
to go. Danielle trying to shake her defender.
And then, in the final seconds, it happens.
Danielle breaks free and shoots the most beautiful three-pointer. It sinks
cleanly through the net with a perfect, satisfying swoosh.
The buzzer blares. The gym is an explosion of noise. Bodies start
pouring out of the stands and I am running off the bench and Googy is
hanging all over Danielle and crying. I throw my arms around them and
kiss my best friend on her sweaty head, and suddenly I’m crying, too. We’re
a sauna of heat, bodies pressing in from all sides, and my family is there