Origin

There might have been a different way to do it but I didn't feel like faking it out. To be honest though, I felt bad ruining the day for both us.

"What's wrong Dylan, did Christine dump you or something?" I turned to find Damian.

"Is that the only reason a teenager becomes depressed? You're talking like a 50 year old."

"It's okay, little bro, I know how you..." he paused suddenly, looking nervous. Wait. There's no way.

"Hey don't tell me you've never had a girlfriend before!" He didn't deny it.

"BAAHAHAHAHAHAH" I burst into peals of laughter. Talk about lifting the mood! "Are you serious? How is it even possible for a 6'2 male with good looks not even get hit on?! HAHAHAHAH!"

"Why don't we talk about you then, Mr. Popularity King." He said mockingly.

"The sky is pretty cloudy today." I replied.

"Oh wait. You're not even popular!"

"Atleast I'm not a 20 year old virgin!"

"You're still a virgin! Oh wait... Why am I arguing with a kid? I've got a part time job."

"Running away, are we?" I said one last time, but he ignored me and left. I was free on a Saturday, So I decided to hit the park to play something.

But to my suprise, someone was already at the court. A kid playing basketball, it looked like. Maybe in 6th grade. But he was struggling with shooting. Everytime, he just chucked the ball, hoping that it would go in. But Boy oh Boy was his dribbling amazing. I lost count of how many times he wouldve crossed his opponent in a play he just pulled off. And he looked really similar to someone. It was getting almost painful to watch him play, so I decided to approach him.

"It won't work no matter how politely you ask chance to help you score. You have to keep form at all times. Also, That extra step you take before pulling up is gonna cost you al ot of other options. You're being too monotone in your offense." Shit. I talked too much.

He had a really mean scowl which scared me even though he was younger. "Then show me how its done, genius." He passed to ball to me.

"Oh its been a long time since I played, so I'm not all that sure."

"Are you making excuses? You talk shit without backing it up!" Ok he was getting a bit rude.

Furthermore, I had promised myself I wasn't gonna deal with this crap again. I hated this sport from the bottom of my heart.

"Look, kid, I'm just being nice. I pointed out your mistakes so you can get off the damn bench."

"How?! How do you know that?!"

"Doesn't matter. Plus, you're too small to worry about your game anyways. So play some games like a normal 6th grader would. I hate this stupid game anyway." I said and kicked the ball to him.

I didn't mean to say things like that. Why would I discourage someone else just because I wasn't talented? What the hell man...

BAM!

Suddenly, something hit the back of my head, causing me to fall on my face. OUCH!

"FYI, I'M 14 YEARS OLD! AND DONT MAKE CRAPPY EXCUSES LIKE HATING THE GAME JUST BECUASE YOU'RE NOT SURE THE BALL WILL GO IN. WHY ARE YOU RUNNING AWAY?! ALSO, DON'T KICK BASKETBALL!!!"

Ok.

THIS KID IS PISSING ME OFF! from the lack of respect to his fucking attitude, treating basketball like some kind of holy grail was getting on my nerves! I was the MVP in middle school, and look where I'm at now?!

But he just said he was 14. WHAT?! He literally looked like 4'11!

"That's not getting you anywhere. With that height, YOU'RE NEVER GONNA MAKE IT!"

"WHO GIVES A SHIT ABOUT HEIGHT?! I'LL JUST BE BETTER WITH MY SKILLS."

I remembered myself saying those same words. Back then, I loved to hear Basketball bouncing. But now, it gave me the same sensation as rasping metal. This boy was fucking delusional. and what the hell does he mean skill? He was way below the average height.

"Fine, you little runt. First one to score wins." I palmed the ball with my hands, like I used to, dropping his jaws.

"How can you palm the balls with those hands..."

" That doesn't matter. Skill, Speed, Tricks, Passing, Vision, Playmaking, Dribbling... I'll show how pointless it is, in front of a wall you can't climb. The moment I dribbled it once, I felt my hands tingle. It was a tingle of nostalgia. One that reminded me how much I once loved this game. And also how much I hated it once everybody hit their growth spurt and I didnt.

His defence was amazing. He stuck close like a magnet, reacting extremely well to each and every movement. Unlike most inexperienced players who focused on the eyes, face and gestures, I felt him paying close to my leg and body movements.

"So you've trained defense, cuz you suck at shooting, huh." He was starting to lose his cool. Trash talking always worked the best. He reached for the ball, but I avoided him with a between the legs and backed away a bit.

"What were you even trying to snatch, the air?" He fumed and got up in my house. Now there was no way for him to reach the ball if I pulled up. But as soon as I thought of shooting, the ball was stripped from my hands.

WHAT THE HELL?!

He grabbed the ball and headed straight for the basket.

"Oh no you dont!"

Seconds away from the basket, with the opponent still hazed from the steal, it was a perfect opportunity to score for him.

But I wasn't gonna let some middle schooler score on me! I ran with everything I had in my legs, Not feeling even the tiniest bit of shame for going so hard on someone of his size, because the only thought I had on my mind was stopping him.

He was too far ahead for me to block him directly, so the only way was bouncing it off the backboard. But I could i do it? It had been so long since I jumped... I could dunk before but now? I didn't know...

AS IF I COULD THINK ABOUT THAT! IF HE SCORES, IT ENDS!

Find the perfect timing and jump without the doubt of not reaching, believing in yourself! I jumped, and felt the ball hit the glass and bounce off, just with the right force for me to recover.

YEAH!!!

I landed, but wasted no time, My legs were screaming from the jump, Ignoring it, I ran for the ball. As soon as I felt it in my hands, I remembered those words

"Spin, Stepback, let it fly to the goal, and let fate decide the rest.

He was on my tail, But his hands didn't reach me. The ball made its way to the goal for a clean splash. I felt the happiness swelling in me, but was soon diminished when I remembered that my opponent was a middle schooler.

"It was just luck." I said spitefully.

"A...AMAZING!!!!!!!!" The boy explained, looking starstruck. "THAT BLOCK WAS SO, LIKE, HIGH! HOW DO YOU JUMP SO HIGH?! CAN YOU DUNK? ALSO CAN YOU TEACH ME THAT INSANE STEPBACK?!"

Ok well, this wasn't so bad either hehe.

"I forgot, kid. Like I said, it was luck."

"Hey, my name is Joshua! I wanna know which highschool you're in, so i can join there next year!"

"He's in my school, Josh." That was Sara's voice. Why was I hearing that voice here?

"Woah! You know him, Sis?"

"Yeah! He's my friend." I turned to find Sara!

"Since... when..."

"From the time you entered the court."

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!! I WANNA DIE RIGHT NOW!!!!!! I WAS TRYNA ACT COOL LIKE THAT GUY WITH TRAGIC PAST ATTITUDE WAS NOT ENTIRELY INTENDED!!!!!!!

"But why didn't you step in when he threw the ball at me? I was ready to bash this guy's head in, y'know..."

"Oh no, after all, you wanted to teach him something. You looked like a coach." she said with a smirk, AND THEN PROCEEDED TO SNICKER.

SHE FIGURED THAT OUT ASWELL!!!"

"It's rare seeing sis get along with someone. Are you her boyfriend?"

"NO!" we both replied at the same.

"Of course my sis is too corny and shy and she behaves like a pu--"

"Say anything more, and I'm telling mom you stay up at night and play." His face scrunched up. I started laughing. My hands were itching to play more, but as soon as i took a step forward, my leg cramped.

...

And here I was sitting on the bench with Sara. She was watching Josh play. And why was i not surprised that she had a brother? Maybe that's the reason why she took care of me so well.

"Why did you quit?" She asked out of the blue.

"It's a boring and depressing thing to talk about, we can discuss homework instead."

"I want to know." She looked at me again with curiosity in her eyes.

"Fine I'll tell you."

"I played basketball starting from 4th grade, because I never really liked any other sports. But I put in way more time than everyone else, ignoring my books. For me, who had nothing else to look forward to at the time, basketball gave me a future. It only took me one year to get insanely good. Our team was the 1st seed all the time. Nobody took basketball as seriously as me. I was obsessed about the game.

To be honest I didn't care about height or anything like that until 7th grade, when I started going up against tall kids. But it wasn't something really hard. After Google I started working on my legs. Then I was able to jump higher. Problem solved. It was as simple as that. I put in effort, I get the results. But somewhere along the line, it became harder. much harder. I was growing normally. And then it stopped. Abruptly. Since I normally played the short player's position, I was well off. For then.

I worked as hard as i could on my legs, and by 9th grade I could dunk, even though I was only 5'6. My shins used to hurt a lot. But I still pushed forward. Because that was the only thing that showed me a future. After middle school, I decided to try for a better high school in the big leagues. And I moved to a different state. And that's where I finally realised how hard it really was. There were players much taller than me, everywhere. The only thing that got me in was my athleticism. For that one year, I rarely came off the bench, playing only 5-10 minutes a game. My times got worse as the year went on. In practice, I was dominated a lot in practice, and I panicked and practiced to the point of overwork.

At that time I thought why? Why wasn't I getting the results for the hard work I put in? Maybe it was because much more amazing people were on the team. But wasn't there a quote that said "Hard work beats talent?" So, if I was putting in more work than the others, staying back for hours and practicing so much, why did take only genetics to beat it? I hated that. I loathed talented people but wished I was like them.

To top it all off, my family separated. My performance was in a downward spiral because i had heavier matters on my mind.

In the finals, Our team was down by 20 going into the 4th quarter. I'm sure I could do something and turn it around. I begged the coach to put me in and this is what he said. "What can you do now, if you were not performing well even in practice? My teammates were fumed at the coach and compelled him to put me in but he didn't budge. He was panicking as well I understood that. I was like "Fine, don't put me in. You're gonna lose this game!

But it didn't happen. We had a wild comeback and won the game in the last second. We won the championship with my contribution being zero.

Didn't that mean that it didn't matter whether I was there or not? That was my breaking point. It was because I wasn't tall enough like 6 feet. No matter how high i jumped, I couldn't dunk over anyone. And no matter what, the coach never noticed me. I should've realised my chances were zero, the moment I watched everyone grow taller than me.

We had a second tournament in Winter, but I stopped attending practice after that day. I started to hate watching tall players dunk. Watching them reach their goal in a matter of seconds through sheer strength and force.

I love basketball. But i hate its nature. If the world was atleast a bit fair, I could've reached somewhere in life and not be chasing behind small things like helping in someone else's love life, Feeling bad about what someone said.

And the next year, I transferred back to hometown since..."

I was rambling.

"Sorry. I'm just a bit down, y'know. Watching him play, and they way he talked, really reminded me of myself. I'm just, scared to give effort to anything now, and scared of ending up the same way in the future."

"Dylan... It's alright falling down. But you needed help getting back up and nobody was there. I wish I was there..."

And before I noticed, her hands were on mine. I didn't know what to do other than follow what I felt, and I wrapped my hands around hers aswell. She was shivering. Was it because the wind made it cold, or was it her fear, I didn't know.

"You keep moving forward in life, no matter what. And if you need help, I'll be here for you."

She squeezed my hands harder. Her hands felt safe. Comforting. I wanted more.

Questions about why, we got in this situation, how, what next, clouded my mind, but I couldn't seem to focus on them. I was in a daze.

She looked a lot cuter than usual. Her lips looked soft. Her eyes were stunning. I don't know what made her seem vastly different now, from every other time.

"Dylan. Am I acting weird?" She asked.

"I have no idea myself... Even I'm feeling off..."

Her second hand reached for my chin.

"I... don't know why I'm doing this."

We were getting caught up in the moment. I didn't know what was going to happen, I knew I had to stop, but I couldn't muster any strength to stop it... It's like she had me in the palm of her hands... But she herself was shivering too... Why was she going this far???

"Sara... stop..." I mumbled. "You might regret this."

"Re-regret what..." There was no stopping her. She even started stuttering... Why was she pushing further...