Tommy

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She actually came.

I don’t fucking believe it. Well, that’s not true. I do believe it, but it’s still pretty unbelievable. A girl like Grace, and a guy like me, and her actually showing up to Gampel for a game? Pretty fucking out of character for both of us. And that’s what’s making this so awesome.

We’re crushing New Hampshire, but that’s to be expected. Joey’s game is on point today and mine’s where it always is. Hooking up with Grace and not getting much sleep hasn’t even put a slip in my step – not even remotely. In fact, what happened between us last night has me fired the fuck up.

It’s not just the sex, it’s the fact that I knew she was going to be here today watching, and I wanted to really show her who the man is. Everyone else already knows. I mean, I’m a campus legend and it’s expected of me. If anything, when I don’t perform, people are surprised. But Grace? She’s never seen me perform…not on the court.

Every shot I drained today was for her. Adding the points to the scoreboard was just icing on the cake. And the look on her face when I pointed her out in the crowd? Priceless.

I’m sure she’s squirming right now, but I know she liked it. I did too. Everyone’s going to be talking now, wondering what’s going on between us and how serious it is. But most importantly of all, no guys are going to have the balls to hit on her now.

“Yo, who the fuck was that?” Brant, our monster center asks me coming up beside me. “That chick you pointed to? That your wife or some shit?”

I let out a laugh. “Yeah, man. You missed out. We flew to Vegas and got hitched. Bachelor party was fucking crazy!”

“You better watch yourself, man!” Brant jokes, taking a swig of his water.

“No, really,” Joey asks, taking a seat on the bench beside me. “What the Hell? Was that the chick from our floor?”

“It sure was.”

“You just messing with her or something?” Joey asks.

I shrug, take a casual sip of my water. I love fucking with Joey. He’s a good dude, but he’s definitely set in his ways and loves having me as a single wingman. If he finds out I’m thinking of hanging up my player’s cap, he might just have a heart attack.

“Come on, bro,” he says, his voice filled with concern. “I mean – what the fuck!?”

“I’m just fucking with her, man,” I lie. Now is no time to get him freaking out. It’s game time and he needs to be focused. “Don’t worry about it.”

“All right, boys,” I hear coach shout. “Let’s get back out there and finish this!”

I take another swig of my water and filter back out onto the court with the rest of the team. The crowd goes wild. I’ll never get tired of that, but as I make my way to the bench, my eyes are on one person. Grace.

Now that I’ve found her, she stands out and is the first place my eyes go. I can see the people sitting around her reacting as I look at her, trying to gauge her reaction and figure out exactly what’s going on between us. I’m sure people are already talking about it online.

Sometimes I am able to step back from myself and really look at just how odd my life is compared to everyone else. Just pointing to a girl causes this ripple effect of gossip and chit chat, everyone wanting to know what’s going on in my personal life. And I’m not even in the pros yet!

I turn back to the bench as coach gives us his pep talk.

“All right, boys. We’ve got ‘em. No problem. Just keep up what we’ve been doing and it’s an easy win. Hey, Joey!” Coach smacks Joey on the side of the head. I realize he’s been looking over at Grace with a “who the fuck is she?” look on his face. “Get your head in the game, boy. There’s plenty of time to chase the girls after we win.”

I laugh to myself as the buzzer goes off and we step onto the court. My eyes feel like they’re being pulled by gravity toward Grace and I have to force myself to focus on the game. Brant wins the tipoff and passes to Joey. I circle around to his left and catch the pass, drain a three and the crowd goes nuts.

“Count it,” I say to him as he high fives me. I turn to Grace and smile.

This is how life is supposed to be, and I didn’t realize it until now. What did Kanye say? “One good girl is worth a thousand bitches.” Truer words have never been spoken. I’d trade in every girl before Grace to make sure Grace would be mine. And now my brain is working overtime.

I’ll kick ass for the remaining two years of school and get drafted. I’ll go pro and start making the big bucks. Grace will still be in school, but I’ll wait for her and visit as much as possible. She can come see me on breaks and after she graduates – well, then we’ll just be together.

She’ll be my girl and I’ll have every resource in the world to take care of her. With Grace by my side, there won’t be any distractions, and I can just focus on being the best I can be. No drama. No bullshit. No crazy chicks trying to get my money or get me to get them pregnant. Just Tommy and Grace. And I can’t wait.

I get back on defense as New Hampshire starts taking the ball up the court. Tommy’s guarding the guy hard but he pulls a crossover and heads my way. But as he goes by Joey, he takes one step too far and stumbles slightly, giving me the opportunity.

I launch forward and swat the ball out from underneath him and grab it and start heading down the court. The crowd cheers and I feel the stadium rumble as they get to their feet. A three and a steal in the first thirty seconds of the second half? Tommy Mason’s back at it again!

New Hampshire’s sprinting to catch me and the rest of my team’s coming to support. Joey’s on the right side and he’s open for a shot, but I’m taking it to the basket. Coast to coast, baby!

The guy I stole the ball from is hot on my heels, but I’m too far ahead. This one’s mine. I’m closing in on the hoop. I hear the cheers and I can feel Grace’s eyes on me as I reach the paint. I’m ready to launch, lay it up and do a victory lap on my way back down the court, and that’s when it happens.

Pain shoots through my ankle and I start to fall. The ball drops from my hands and goes out of bounds. I’m falling, and before I hit the floor, I already know what happened.

The New Hampshire player behind me, the one I stole the ball from, tripped me on purpose – kicked me in the ankle, hard. And as I hit the floor, and the pain courses up my ankle, I start to freak out.

“Ah!” I cry out, rolling onto my back and grabbing my ankle with both hands. “Fuck!”

“Hey, man, what the fuck!?” I hear Joey behind me shoving the New Hampshire player. The crowd roars. A fight’s about to break out, but I don’t care about that now. All I can focus on is the pain.

How hard did he kick me?

It feels like my ankle is broken. I can already feel it throbbing as it starts to swell and the pain sweat breaking out across my forehead and cheeks. It’s almost unbearable and I instantly start to panic.

“Goddamn it!” I shout again, gritting my teeth. My entire body is tense as the pain courses up my calf. It’s hot, like I’ve been stuck with a poker. It’s overwhelming, and I’m only faintly aware of the roar and boos of the crowd and of course my teammates freaking out around me.

“Get the doc!” I hear coach shout as he comes up beside me. “Tommy. Tommy! How bad is it? One to ten?”

“Ten!” I grimace.

“Shit,” Coach spits, his voice filled with anger. “That son of a bitch! I’ll have his nuts for this!”

It’s broken. I’m fucked.

Panic and catastrophe invade my mind. Every horrible scenario plays out like a horror movie in my head. There goes college basketball. There goes the big leagues and the big money. There goes Grace…