The ball entered the net in a smooth arc. Jerry was grinning for ear to ear, pride sweeling in his chest at his new student's well placed attempt. "You see, just like that. It's all in the wrist. You just have to focus on the net and give the ball a little flick on the throw."
Jess took deep breaths, she was bent over clutching her knees, doing her very best to soothe her burning lungs. It had taken soooo long just to finally place a shot in the net. Over an hour of repeated failure, of sending the ball vastly off course. She'd thrown it at Luke's head at some point out of overwhelming frustration.
Speaking of Lukehiem. He had barely moved since the tutorial started. He just stood there observing—at least that's what she thought he was doing. He wasn't completely idle, every couple minutes he would throw the ball towards the basket, miss the hoop, then spend several more minutes standing in utter silence.
His eyes were glossed over, distant. She knew in that moment that he was deeply concentrating. Conveying that message was a bit difficult, even the hyper-enthusiastic Jerry had lost a bit of steam when teaching him.
He was slow, poised and very level headed, he didn't rush to try out the advice Jerry bestowed. Everything was taken with scrutiny and elegant patience. A contrast to the intense, high energy rhythm of basketball.
Jess made another attempt for the hoop. Her wrist strained and she rose on her heels briefly, flexing them with well practiced might. The ball left her hand with a twirling whoosh, it soared through the air in a now familiar, just-practiced curve.
It hit the rim and bounced down to the floor. Unsuccessful in the entry yet she still smiled, it was much better than before. At least now her plays was landing near the the hoop and not widely off course.
Just then Luke made another attempt for the hoop. Just like her's it bounced off the hoop,dropping to the floor with dramatic irony.
"Would you like me to demonstrate again?"
"Yes, go ahead." Luke accepted Jerry's offer promptly, so quickly that the seasoned player was slightly confused—had he mistaken his silence as lack of interest. Either way he was glad to demonstrate and further the silent one's appreciation of the spherical arts.
Jerry's knees bent into a wide centered stance, he positioned his hands on either side of the ball explaining the reason for each action as he'd done many times before
And now the throw. Executing a good throw had more nuance than you would initially expect. One did not simply launch the ball, or fling it with the power of their arms—as most newbies tend to do.
Rather the throw began with the extension of the knees and the straightening of the hips. Power drawn from the feet as it travelled the length of the spine then to the arms. And finally the final trick, the ploy that marked a seasoned throw.
Power shuffled through the arms, they had one role and one alone. As the muscles pulled to a full extension, lining up the shot the true culprit drove the last bout of power into the ball. The wrists, it was always the wrists. In that moment where the body stood erect, the arms fully extended toward the hoop, it was the artful twirl of the wrists that drove it home.
As expected, as so thoroughly practiced, the ball sailed and landed in the rest without so much as a sound. Lukehiem although also meager in experience could identity a passionate seasoned thrall of their craft.
Jerry was one such person and it showed—not a single mistake, not a single identifiable inflection. In that moment, years of enboned muscle memory colluded into a perfect shot, the best one he'd seen since they got here.
Ever since he stepped onto the court Luke began learning. He drove his frenzied inhuman mind to assimilation. And now he was ready, that throw was the final piece he needed to reach satisfactory understanding.
Jess watched Lukehiem pick up the ball again, unusually early considering the amount of time he normally spent between each throw in silent introspection. He dipped into a low wide stance—a perfect mimicry of the byspel he'd seen just moments before.
Jerry also watched with keen interest, something about this one felt different, felt familiar. The silent-one began his play and Jerry watched in marvel as a perfect execution of his long practiced routine unfolded.
The ball sailed and caught on the net with a satisfying swoop, the sound echoing in Jerry's very being, haunting him.
He gazed into the silent-one's eyes and felt his breath catch. He realised that this was the first he was actually staring into those frigid blank eyes. An unwelcome coldness spread through him, leaving him in awe and trepidation.
Luke ever oblivious to the awestricken looks he was recieving from both Jerry and Jess picked up another ball and proceeded to do the same.
Then he did it again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, until he felt a unsteady hand fisting his shoulder.
He didn't understand Jerry's untimely interruption and wouldn't have been bothered to—if he didn't see the fear in Jerry's eyes.
'Why does he look so spooked? He was wearing an enthusiastic grin just moments ago.' It puzzled Lukehiem, his crumpled shirt under Jerry's grip was also starting to bring him some ire. "Is there a problem Jerry?"
That elegant voice, sparked with a bare hint of irritation finally pulled Jerry out of his jumbled thoughts. "Ahh-umm... No? T-There's no problem at all. You can get back to your practice, sorry to disturb you."
Luke resumed his diligent practice while Jerry padded away to Dorn with jittery steps.
Jess also finally made a move and approached him with wonder and many questions swirling in her eyes. She didn't know where to begin or which question to ask first. Maybe she could just pass it up and remain quiet, chalk it up as talent. No—she knew it was more than that, she knew he was more than that.
But somethings were better left unsaid. There friendship was still fresh, raw; Lukehiem still defensive, though he was making rapid improvements. It was still too early to ask, so she would bottle it up and file it for a future time, when they trusted each other a bit more.
"That was amazing Luke. You never cease to amaze me. You might be a basketball prodigy." Lukehiem glanced behind her, doing well to not acknowledge her praise—he had a lot to say about his supposed talent but that could wait. The sharp, speedy whispers Jerry and Dorn were exchanging quipped his interest.
Dorn flinched when he noticed Luke staring. An interesting development, the way they averted their gazes and spoke in quieter hushes made it clear they were talking about him. A crease wormed it's way on his temple, but only briefly. Why should he be worried about the machenitions of long-limbed folk.
Luke passed the ball to Jess, earning him a grunt at his ill-timed throw. She was just about to say something to him. Some form of smug teasing he didn't want to listen to.
Minutes later Jerry and Dorn approached, Dorn wearing a sceptic scowl like he'd been forced into a shady contract. Jerry on the other hand was wearing that wide-eared grin that made his face a lot more punchable.
"You've both gotten a good understanding of the throw, so we can move on to the other basics if you're up for it." Jerry was eager to see just how far Luke's talent went. Did it extend to other things besides just throwing; dribbling, tackling, passing were all part of the whole that made up a skilled player. If Lukehiem displayed the same learning curve that would make him a prodigy.
Luke was ready to leave, he had quite enough of the sport. His observation thus far had led him to a stalwart conclusion; this game was absolutely boring. The hands-on experience hadn't changed his earlier assessment of the sport, but he did respect it a bit more.
Still he listened to Jerry's long winded lecture about the intricacies of dribbling the ball out of polite courtesy. "...so that's why we use controlled bounces between steps..." Lukehiem was not easily distracted nor one to abandon focus when someone was speaking to him.
But that insidious gaze caressing his back pulled him into a dark place. The words Jerry spoke became muffled, drowned out by the drumming of his heart and the sound of his shaky lungs. Why was he so scared, he felt so small, but only for moment. He steadied himself and grasped at his learned courage.
Like a reflex he pulled the veil against himself and returned that visual confrontation with the same intensity.
Jonathan stood in the seating area, his eyes seemed shaded by notably dark shadows—or was that a trick of the light. His face a steely blank, not a crease or dusting of emotion, but Luke felt raw mirth emanating from his obscured eyes.
Jonathan tipped his chin to the door, a clear sign he wished to speak with Luke. And just like that the passionate basketball lessons were abandoned. "I'll be leaving now. Will you come along Jess?" Jess' compliance was prompt and with a resolute turn he planned to lead her outside.
"Wait! You're leaving already, we haven't gone over all the basics yet." Jerry whined, feeling a sudden sense of loss.
"I apologise for the abrupt pause Jerry. I have another engagement that requires my attention. Thank you for your adept aid." Luke's tone was calm, professional. It put distance between them, furthering Jerry's sense of loss.
"You'll come back, won't you?" He had to ask, to get some assurance. This was an opportunity too good to pass up. He'd already began to envision a future with Luke as the steady hand of the team.
"No. I don't think I will."