Tryouts
*Kayla*
November 12, 2015
I’m surprised Dallas asked me to watch his tryouts. No one usually attends them, for they’re dreadfully boring and can last a good two hours. However, I happily accepted his invitation. I admire the sport, and all in all, I am honored.
I met Dallas outside of the gym, and I could tell he was nervous. I didn’t understand why. He beat me at our one-on-one game. He’s talented; he took this team to State two times. He’s almost guaranteed a spot, even if he has an off day.
“You’ll do great,” I said, a smile on my face to encourage him.
Now I’m eating my words.
Sitting in the stands, watching as Dallas misses every shot is pure agony. I don’t understand what’s wrong. He travels while dribbling, stumbles over his feet, and makes nothing-but-air shots. Gnawing on my bottom lip, I begin to get nervous for him. His mind is elsewhere; that much is obvious.
The only reason he could be doing so badly is because he’s thinking about Kyle. Did Kyle attend tryouts? I wondered…
Standing to my feet, I walk down the bleachers to the court.
“You can’t be on the court during tryouts!” Coach Durham yells, causing all the players to stop and look over at me as I hastily walk toward Dallas. I ignore them, stopping right when I’m a foot away from him.
He’s covered in sweat, panting heavily as he looks at me with sorrowful eyes.
“What’s going on?” I whisper, keeping my voice low so eavesdroppers can’t hear.
“I can’t focus,” Dallas says.
“Well, no duh,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. Dallas lets out a scoffing laugh.
“What do you see? What am I doing wrong?” he asks.
I’m yet again shocked. Dallas Perkins is asking me for help? For advice? Whatever happened to “Perkins boys don’t lose to girls?”
Scrunching my lips to the side, I look Dallas up and down. “You keep looking down. You keep looking at the ball as you dribble. You need to look ahead and be in sync with your dribbling.” I step back and nod for him to do so. He brings his ball to his side and begins bouncing it up and down while his eyes stay on me. “Whatever you’re thinking, I need you to blank it out. Right now, all that matters is that ball going through that net.” I point to the basketball hoop, my eyebrows raised.
Dallas sighs, nodding his head. He then heads toward the hoop, and after a few steps, he looks down and then skids to a stop. He growls and places the ball between both his hands, squeezing. I notice the muscles in his arms working overtime as he does so.
“I can’t get him out of my head,” he grits out, looking over at me. I sigh, glancing around at all the other players, who are either trying out for the coach or watching us.
“He came to tryouts, didn’t he?” I ask. Dallas nods, resting the ball on his hip as he rolls his head back, closing his eyes. “Okay. Dallas, do you want this?”
Dallas meets my eyes. “You know I do.”
“Then you need to try. You need to stop using Kyle as an excuse for failing. You’re a great basketball player, Dallas. You even beat me,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. He offers a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “You’re doubting yourself. That’s normal. But keep in mind that you trained Kyle. The same Kyle that beat you. You did that. So clearly, you’re doing something right. Push every negative thought out of your mind. Don’t think. Basketball comes naturally to you. It’s like riding a bike. Feel the rhythm within you. Dribble, run, shoot. Boom, boom, boom.” I snap my fingers to emphasize what I am saying. Dallas nods his head again. I step back. “Go.” I motion toward the hoop.
Dallas lets out a sigh but turns to face the hoop. He begins dribbling the ball by his hip, taking a few deep breaths as he focuses on the hoop. Then I watch as his knees slightly bend and his shoulders hunch forward. Very quickly and stealthily, he begins running up to the basket, where he lands a perfect lay-up.
I grin, clapping my hands slowly. Dallas grabs his ball and jogs over to grab the back of my neck and pull me into a hug. I pat his back, cringing at the amount of sweat gathered on his shirt. “Thank you,” he whispers. I nod my head and step back, looking up at him.
“You got this. Go show them why the Perkins boys always win.” I reach up to ruffle his hair, instantly regretting it as I bring it back down, covered in sweat. I mock heave as I turn and walk back up the bleachers.
Sitting down, I watch as Dallas rejoins Mikey and Tyler, who give me a nod, and the three of them begin scrimmaging.
“Well done.” The voice beside me is unmistakable. I smile to myself as I look over to see Kyle sitting beside me, dressed in his red shirt and dark jeans. He has his elbows resting on his knees and chin sitting on his palms. His eyes watch Dallas’s every move. “I’ve always enjoyed watching him play.”
I cross my arms over my legs, pulling them to my chest. My eyes remain on Dallas as well, listening to Kyle talk. “To think that I might never see him play again is more painful than you can imagine.” Kyle’s voice breaks at the end, and I feel my chest tighten and my throat go dry. Tears gather in my eyes.
“You’ll always be able to watch. You’ll look down on us and watch every game he plays,” I say. It’s a promise. This is not the end. When we find Kyle’s murderer and he finds peace, we might never see him again. But he’ll still be able to see us.
“I’m glad he has you now.” I turn my head to look at him. “I always knew it was you. That’s why I was always so frustrated when he was so stubborn about befriending you. I always knew you’d be the one to claim his heart. Dallas doesn’t do girlfriends. He doesn’t fall in love. But with you, it’s all possible. There’s hope that he’ll obtain real happiness.” Listening to Kyle talk, it’s hard to imagine he was only thirteen. He acts more mature than people twice his age. “Dallas will make mistakes. He will most likely hurt you a few times, but you mustn’t give up on him.” Kyle looks up at me with teary eyes. “Promise me you won’t leave him.” His voice cracks.
A tear rolls down my cheek as I nod my head. “I promise.” Kyle looks back at Dallas and then closes his eyes, which then encourages a tear of his own to fall.
“I have to go.”
“Wait. Dallas will want to see you,” I say, desperate to keep Kyle with us just for a moment longer. Dallas will look over any minute, and he’ll want to see his brother sitting here.
There’s no response, and when I look back to where Kyle was, all I see is an empty space. I feel a sob escape me, and I place a hand over my mouth.
It will never get easier.
Coach blows the whistle, signaling that tryouts are over. I hear footsteps on the bleachers; however, I continue to stare where Kyle previously was.
“I made the team. Thank you again, Kayla.” Dallas’s voice comes from above. I don’t respond. “What’s wrong? Are you crying?” His voice is laced with concern as he crouches down in front of me, placing a finger under my chin. Dallas tilts my head back so my hazel eyes meet his shiny blue ones. “Kayla, what happened?”
“Kyle was here,” I whisper. Dallas’s brow dips as he stares at me. He then looks around the gymnasium, as if trying to find him. “He was glad to see you play again. He was glad that I’m here for you. Made me promise to stay. And now he’s gone again.” My bottom lip quivers as I feel tears roll down my cheeks. Dallas quickly thumbs them away, a frown settling on his features.
“Why didn’t he stay?”
“I asked him to. But he said he had to go. Why does he have to go? Why can’t he stay?” I ask, searching Dallas’ eyes for an answer.
“Because he’s dead,” Dallas mutters, looking away from me. He stares at the bleachers for a moment.
The basketball players emerge from the locker rooms, dressed in their usual clothing before they exit the gymnasium. Tyler and Mikey stick around, and I can hear them chattering away from up here. “Let’s go, love birds!” Mikey hollers.
Dallas looks up at me again and offers a smirk. “That would be us,” he says, bringing light to the conversation. I roll my eyes and stand up, grabbing my backpack.
Dallas grabs my hand, as if to help me walk down the bleachers. However, when we step on the court, he doesn’t let go. He holds on tighter, lacing our fingers together. I peek up at him. He looks over at Mikey and Tyler. “So tomorrow is teacher conferences. No school. Do you guys want to come over? I got the new Halo game. We can all play, then watch movies,” Dallas says to Mikey and Tyler as the four of us walk out of the gym.
“Sure, sounds good, man,” Tyler says. Mikey agrees, and Dallas nods his head, looking over at me.
“You and Anne can come too, if you want.” I arch an eyebrow. Was he really inviting us to barge into their pissing contest? I know the whole night will involve competing and throwing insults at each other.
“As long as I get a chance at playing, I’m down.” I shrug.
Mikey bends forward to look around Dallas at me. “You play Halo?” he asks. His tone infers that he’s judging me. What? Women can’t play Halo?
“I’ll have you know I am very skilled. Almost as talented as I am at basketball,” I chide.
Dallas pulls me close and kisses the side of my head before dipping his head down to whisper in my ear. “So I guess I’ll beat you at Halo, just as I did at basketball.”
Scoffing, I release Dallas’s hand and throw a punch to his arm.
I’ll show him. These boys will never doubt the capability of girls ever again.
“Are you sure your mom doesn’t care that you’re sleeping over?” Dallas asks as he grabs my overnight bag from my hands.
Dallas texted me after school saying that Mikey and Tyler were planning on spending the night if Anne and I wanted to join. It took a decent amount of begging on my part, but my mom finally said yes. Anne’s parents were cool about it as well.
“Are you sure your mom is okay with it?” I ask, arching an eyebrow.
Dallas scoffs. “My mom loves you more than me. I’m sure she’d rather switch us out.” I smile, knowing that he isn’t far from the truth. However, Mrs. Perkins would never love me more than Dallas. But it’s very close.
“Nice house,” Anne says as she enters behind me. I give her a side hug as she hands Dallas her bags. He holds both mine and hers in one hand as he grabs my hand with his other.
Dallas does have a nice house. The Perkins are not bad off. They have completely updated appliances and expensive artwork. The furniture is all black leather as well, and they have a massive flat screen mounted on the wall in the living room. The paint on the wall is professionally done as well. The floors are all hardwood with decorative rugs under the kitchen table and the living room couches.
Dallas leads us up the stairs, where he tosses the bags into one room, but continues past it to another. I peek in to see his very own man cave. I smile, shaking my head at an assortment of beanbag chairs and La-Z-Boys. There’s another large flat screen with shelves of movies and video games. Underneath the TV is a table that holds an Xbox One, PS4, DVD player and a cable box.
All along the walls are pictures of Chicago Bulls players, ranging from Michael Jordan and Scottie Pippen to Derrick Rose and Joakim Noah. There are a few Bears photos, but it’s obvious that this is a basketball family.
Mikey and Tyler are already in bean bag chairs, controllers in their hands with cans of Mountain Dew beside them.
“Welcome to the man cave,” Dallas says, offering me a smile. I roll my eyes but grin up at him.
“I like it.”
“Anne! Kayla! Come watch me dominate his ass!” Tyler hollers over at us. I laugh as Dallas drops my hand to close the door. I walk over to sit on the black La-Z-Boy couch with Anne. She sits closest to Tyler and the two of them chat. Tyler is talented at multitasking, being able to hold a conversation as he does, indeed, beat Mikey.
Dallas sits on the couch beside me, lifting the recliner up. I look over at him to see him already watching me. Shifting my body so I’m completely facing him, I place my hands under my head. Dallas reaches up to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear.
“Thank you. For today,” he whispers softly.
“You’re welcome.”
Dallas pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth and chews on it a great deal before he lets out a sigh. “I’m picking you up at ten Saturday morning. Be ready,” he demands. I want to chuckle at how commanding he is, but decide against it. I’m eager to find out what he has planned.
“What are we doing Saturday morning?”
Dallas leans forward so his lips are to my ear again. Butterflies erupt in my belly and I have to bite my tongue to keep from squealing in excitement.
“It’s a surprise.”