Me*: is it crazy to say I already like you?.
Natasha*: not really. You remind me every day.
Me*: yeah yeah I know. Just wanted to remind you. Again.
Natasha*: and I want to also remind you that I like you too. Switching topics. Any interesting thing in school so far?.
Me*: nahhhh. Life has returned back to normal.
Natasha*: and what's normal?
Me*: boring, boring's normal. Wbu?
Natasha*: nothing much, just thinking about quitting cheer.
Me*: you're joking right ?
Natasha*: i wish I was
Me*: but why.
Natasha*: the stress of travelling with the team and balancing my studies. It's taking its toll on me.
Me*: so next week is the last time I see you??.
Natasha*: I guess so.
Me*: ok. But then your school needs to fix up.
Natasha*: what do you mean?.
Me*: a school as big as starfield has no basketball court. That's a shame if you ask me.
Natasha*: lol. I knew you were gonna say that.
Me*: I'm not wrong though. Would have enjoyed a tour around your school.
Natasha*: sorry our court is under repairs. Would have loved to have you too. Maybe have a repetition of what happened in victory.
Me*: lol, you're very mad. I don't want something like that repeating, ever.
Natasha*: I know. Sorry I said that (with a couple sad emoji).
Me*: lol. I was just pulling your legs.
Natasha*: oh you thought I was genuinely apologising ( with a shocked emoji)
Me*: lmao. I fucking hate you.
Natasha*: awwn. That's the sweetest thing you've ever said to me.
Me*: lol. Where did I even know this creature from.
Natasha*: I wonder too. Well I'll be going now
Me*: just like that?.
Natasha*: last thing I need is my teacher seizing my phone. So bye for now. Okay?.
Me*: yeah. Byee. Ttyl.
Natasha*: okay dear.
Uhmmm, so Nat and I were in something of a relationship, don't ask me how that happened. Just be happy it did. I think I'm part of the reason feminist think men aren't worth the effort.
TRAINING ****
We've spent the last three hours working like slaves. Coach made it his goal to break our bones and body off.
Coach fuckface: I honestly don't know who to blame. Our dumb useless captain who found no other time convenient, but in the match to profess love. Or his stupid friend who made Mr Okoro's threat a reality.
Me: (looking at Jace) he's talking to you.
Coach fuckface: keima, I promise you. I'll be the cause of your pain if you say any other thing
Me: ouch coach. It's not my fault Jensen started thinking with his dick.
Coach fuckface: except from what he says, you gave him the confidence he needed.
Me: oh. (Looking at Jensen) Nice one bro.
Jensen: (laughing) someone had to go under the bus.
Coach fuckface: now pay attention. This Friday we face JRC high. If you look at the table, they are sitting comfortably at 3rd with only Starfield and us ahead of them. This won't be an easy match and they know it. As if that wasn't enough, we are playing Laurels College this Wednesday in the Round of 8 for the Kings Youth Cup, and then we play starfield for the away fixture on Sunday. Do you see now?.
Mathew: sorry coach, one question. Do we even get to rest?.
Coach fuckface: did you hear anytime of resting?.
Me: but we have to prepare for the baticadious.
Coach fuckface: you had 3 months, don't tell me you did nothing.
James: coach. Are we dead?.
Coach fuckface: yes. You're so dead. But look at the bright side. We push through and we have the double in the bag. So please focus. I'm about to get to the important part. I call this one 'follow the bait'.
Team: whoooo.
Jensen: Catchy name. Let's hear it coach.
Coach fuckface: from what I've gathered. Our trio have made something of a name for themselves. Everyone would be aiming at the neck of Jensen, Jace and keima. We'll be giving them a bait.
Jensen: by them do you mean starfield, laurel or JRC?.
Coach fuckface: all of them. So both kei and you would be our bait. You'd both be on the bench for this one.
Me: then how are the bait if we're on the bench?.
Coach fuckface: ohh. This is the salivating part. I wanna give Laurel and Starfield hope to just snatch it away.
Sometimes I forget coach Is something of a psychopath when it came to winning. Fucking weirdo. We love him though.
Coach fuckface: here, (throwing bandages at us) tie this around your leg and hand. Here's the deal. You both got injured. Now I need you to sell it. Tell your friends, your teachers, your lovers. Tell everyone you got injured but you'd push yourself for the game against JRC. I need both of you to pit the blame against each other. I need your chemistry to die. I need you to be enemies. Not being able to stand each other guts. Every single team in the league have informants in this school. We need to sell this for them to follow the bait.
Me: I'm a pretty good actor.
Jensen: have you seen me act?.
Coach fuckface: this is why I love you guys. Now for the finalising. Even though both of you got injured today, you'll still start against JRC. And that's where your injuries would escalate. And the both of you will get into a fight to gel the 'no chemistry' part. Do you think you can achieve that much?.
Jensen and me: yes coach
Coach fuckface: as for you Jace, you're the only member of 'The unholy trinity' to make the team for all matches. God, who comes up with these names
Team: (laughing a bit)
Incase you were wondering who the unholy trinity were, that's what they nicknamed Jensen, Jace and me. And that proves my point, do you see how badass this sounds compared to my wonder kid?.
Coach fuckface: I know you Jace, You've always been my consistent player. This time you'll be doing a lot of carrying. Can you?.
Jace: yes uncle.
James: but coach, won't it look Sus if they just walk out of here with bandages?. How about we help them to the nurse offices and they start the acting there.
Coach fuckface: how did I not even think about that?.
**** AT THE NURSES OFFICE *****
Coach fuckface: can you believe that?.
Nurse: (laughing) that's hilarious.
Coach fuckface: I know right?. It's crazy.
Mahn, I just sat there staring at Coach, watching him for the first time in a long time chit-chatting casually without mentioning basketball, league, or tournaments. It was new, it was beautiful.
Me: coach, I'll be on my way now.
coach fuckface: you're forgetting we need to sell this properly. Matt, go get his roommates.
Matt: yes coach.
ABOUT TEN MINUTES ON****
Kayode: woah. What happened?.
Me: Jensen. That fucking bastard.
Kayode: calm down. Let's get you up first.
Me: it hurts like hell.
Nurse: (talking to Kay) I gave him some pain killers. Make sure he takes them.
Kayode: he definitely will.
Barry and kayode assisted me to our room and we spent the next couple of hours just talking and laughing, and doing what men normally do. Gossip.
Justin: does that mean you'll both be out?.
Me: out?. Like?.
Justin: like you won't play this weekend, or even next week, or the week after that.
Me: nahhhh, fuck that. I'm playing on Friday.
Kayode: dude, is that even advisable?.
Me: not really. But I know my body. If I just sit around, I'll never recover. Trust me, playing through the pain heals me.
Barry: You're fucking weird.
Me: trust me, it's the same for every Nigerian guy. You keep playing when you get injured, that way the pain heals faster.
Justin: Kay?.
Kayode: I don't think you want me to answer that.
Barry: he's a fucking bookworm. Does he strike you like someone who would even step outside his room to walk in the rain?.
Kayode: ouch. What the hell?.
Barry: am I lieing?.
Kayode: no, but----
Me: but nothing. You should be in streak, cause you act like them.
And then about ten seconds of pure silence cause no one knew what to speak about
Kayode: so, keima. How are you and Tephnine?.
Me: the fuck kinda question is that?
Kayode: just answer.
Me: in love
Kayode: oh
Me: yeah, in love
Kayode: I don't think I'll ever fall in love
Me: trust me. That's what you think until it hits you like a trunk.
Justin: I'm a living testimony
Me: you have a girlfriend?
Justin: yeah, this person is all I ever wanted
Barry: good to you guys then.
Kayode: Barry You're a Playboy and I can barely talk to a girl. What do you mean by good to us?.
Me: wait a bit. What about the girl you took to our valentine dance?.
Kayode: what about her?.
Me: who's she?.
Kayode: my partner on Mr God'spower science project.
Me: he had a science project?.
Kayode: strictly for Streak and top five of Gamma.
Me: at this point, just make a cult and call it drunk in knowledge or something. This is simply unhealthy.
Kayode: sorry we're all not lazy like you.
Me: whatever.
Barry: Back to what we were saying. How did you ask her out?.
Kayode: i just told her.
Me: and she just accepted?. What was her reaction?.
Kayode: well. She just smiled, giggled and said yes. Something of she's been waiting. I mean, I guess no on asked her yet. Maybe she was desperately waiting for someone.
Justin: my God. You really know nothing about women.
Me: wait lemme get this straight, a girl who immediately accepts your proposal, smile and giggled at you. Even said she's been waiting. And your first thought is maybe she was desperate as she saw no date.
Kayode: wasn't that the case?.
Me: no!. You stupid blockhead. She likes you.
Kayode: wait really. Is that what all those meant?.
Justin: how did I even know this virgin?.
Kayode: I'm not a virgin.
Me: yeah, and Isaac newton didn't discover gravity.
Kayode: why do I feel hurt by that?.
Justin: maybe don't lie about being a virgin. There's no shame there.
Barry: you guys stop teasing him. The important question should be, do you like her?.
Kayode: maybe. I mean she's really smart. Like really really smart.
Me: what the fuck are you on about?.
Kayode: I'm trying to say she's smart, she's beautiful too. And she was a great lab partner. She made me realise I still had ways to go to get to where I want.
Barry: so..... You like her?.
Kayode: I think?.
Justin: bro just fuck outta here.
Me: you're genuinely the worse Kay.
Kayode: whatever, let's just talk about you. How are you feeling now?
Me: uhh?.
Kayode: your leg. Your fractured ankle?.
Fuck!. I totally forgot about the Hollywood performance coach assigned to us.
Me: it's killing me. I really trained, I put my fucking all to make sure I get ready for our match, but now all thanks to Jensen, that's become a far fetched dream.
Barry: what really happend?
Me: that bastard sabotaged me. He wants us to think it was by accident. But I can feel it. I know he did it on purpose.
Barry: again. What really happened?.
Me: I really don't wanna talk about it right now.
Kayode: yeah that's okay with us. Right Barry?.
Barry: yeah, yeah. It's all good.
Justin: switching topics. How's everyone coming up with their project?.
Me: terrible
Barry: massive destruction
Kayode: other than Tephnine, the rest are making it their goal to see me dead.
Me: damn. We're all so dead.
Justin: yeah. You guys are.
Barry: you guys?.
Justin: yeah. My team's doing so well. In our final stage right now.
Me: you're joking right?.
Justin: I wish I was
Barry: how are you getting the best trea---
He was interrupted by my ringtone. And the caller was no other than Natasha.
Me: excuse me guys. Need to take this
Kayode: yeah. Knock yourself out.
IN CALL****
Me*: hey angel
Natasha*: What's wrong. You haven't been online for the past 5 hours.
Me*: sorry, sorry. Just rounded up training.
Natasha*: you guys closed late today. What happened?.
Me*: I was in the sick bay receiving treatment.
Natasha*: did anything happen during training?.
Me*: yeah. There was an accident between me and Jensen, and I somehow dislocated my right ankle.
Natasha*: I'm so sorry babe. What about Jensen?, did anything happen to him?.
Me*: yeah. He also dislocated his right shoulder.
Natasha*: so you won't be playing this Friday?
Me*: fuck no, I will be playing
Natasha*: You're injured babe.
Me*: and so?. We play with injury all the time back home. What's gonna stop me now?.
Natasha*: what if it worsens?.
Me*: I don't even know. But I'd prefer leaving tomorrow problem for tomorrow me.
Natasha*: sorry about your ankle babe.
Me*: it's not your fault. You don't need to apologise.
Natasha*: I know, but still. You must be in a lot of pain.
Me*: honestly. Yes I am. But what can a man do?.
Natasha*: (chuckling) and when did you become a man?.
Me*: ouch. My pride
MATCH DAY. STARLING STRIKE VS JRC*****
The silence in the locker room wasn't the usual tense kind, it was heavy, artificial. Jensen and I sat on opposite benches, staring at the polished floor. My right wrist and ankle were bound tight with bandages, and I was making sure every movement looked slightly painful. We couldn't even risk exchanging a knowing look, even inside our locker room. The performance had to be flawless right here.
Coach Fuckface stood in the center, his eyes sweeping over the team, but always landing back on us.
Coach fuckface: Look at the schedule. JRC, Laurels, Starfield. Mr. Okoro tried to break this season using money and influence. Now, we break them using lies and psychopathy.
I had to suppress a smirk, the man was a genius in his own insane way.
Coach fuckface: Our enemies expect us to be limping, scared, and, thanks to the two idiots I'm looking at, divided.
He fixed his gaze on me, then Jensen.
Coach fuckface: The bait has been taking. The spies here tonight have already reported the injuries and the fighting. Now, we go out there and deliver the performance of our lives. Keima!, Jensen!. You will start this game. But tonight, you are enemies. You will treat the other one like a contagious disease. No Passing to each Other. If they see you make a single clean give-and-go, the entire scheme is going to be under high surveillance. Only pass to Jace, or to Matt, or to anyone who isn't standing next to the other one. I want Continuous Arguing. Every missed shot, every missed rotation, you two will scream at each other. You will question the other one's parentage, intelligence, and commitment. Make it look real. Make JRC think you're more focused on winning your personal fight than the game.
Coach drew a thick, angry circle around the End of the Second Quarter on the whiteboard.
Coach fuckface: This is the deadline. We establish dominance in the first half. We need to completely destroy them by the end of the buzzer. Keima, Jensen. The final act happens just before the half-time buzzer. You will execute the collision exactly as we practiced. You will both collide going for the same loose ball. Make it massive, make it believable. Your injuries must escalate. This takes you both out for the rest of the match, and gives you a week's worth of believable, bigger bruises for Laurels and Starfield to plan around.
This wasn't just a normal game for coach anymore. This is a coach showing his hunger.
Coach fuckface: This is dirty, yes. Is it psychological warfare?, yes. But it is necessary. Tonight, we prove that even when we are injured, even when we are divided, we are still the best team on the damn court!.
He lifted his voice, the passion ringing through the small room.
Coach fuckface: Now, you go out there. You sell the lie, you win the game, and you bring the victory home. Let's go!.
I slowly pushed myself up, favoring my bandaged ankle. I finally caught Jensen's eye, and he gave me a minuscule, imperceptible nod. It wasn't the usual brotherly affirmation, it was a soldier acknowledging his mission partner. We were going to war, and the first shot fired had to be a perfectly crafted lie. This was the easy part. Winning the game by the first half would be the hard part.
The roar of the JRC crowd was pathetic compared to ours, they were thin and anxious. We strode onto the court, Jensen and I favoring our wrapped limbs just enough to draw attention. The moment the whistle blew and the ball went up, the performance began.
JRC point guard won the tip. He tried to work the perimeter, but I was focused entirely on my own play. I didn't care about whatever scheme or tactics they came up with, I cared about selling the lie. I stripped the ball from their point guard near the sideline, and the court opened up before me. Jensen was a clear option for the fast break, running perfectly on the wing. But I had to ignore him completely. I drove straight through two defenders, contorting my body with a move that was equal parts ballet and brutality, and hammered home a powerful, one-handed dunk. It shook the entire backboard.
Commentator 1: Goodness!, Keima with the steal and the monster dunk!. That kid is just pure, uncut talent!.
Commentator 2: you couldn't have said it any more better. But did you see that Jeremiah?. Jensen was wide open on the break, a guaranteed assist. Keima completely ignored the Captain.
Commentator 1: I think we all saw that. There's rumour of locker room conflict.
On our next possession, I called for the ball at the top of the key, this was part of our play. Jensen was holding it, calmly surveying the defense. His eyes met mine for a brief, cold second. He didn't even acknowledge the call. Instead, he initiated a perfect give-and-go with Matt, weaving through the defenders like a phantom. He ended the play with a beautiful, soft floater off the glass, a shot of clinical precision. This was the cue for the next part of our acting.
Me: what the hell was that Jensen?. Are you deaf?. You couldn't hear my call or what?.
He walked past me, his face a mask of disappointment.
Jensen: Focus on the defense, Keima. You're not on my level. Never have been, never will be.
The crowd ate up the drama we just displayed, except our fans of course, they were all confused. The JRC players, sensing our 'disunity' tried to press us. That was their mistake. They didn't realise that our discord wasn't chaos, it was a highly organized system of two selfish superstars operating independently, but aimed at the same goal: destruction.
Jace was the only bridge between the two of us. He was our safe zone, our delivery system.
I drove hard, drawing three defenders, then kicked the ball out to Jace. He didn't hesitate. Swish! Three points.
A minute later, Jensen zipped a pass out of the double team straight to Jace in the corner. Swish! Another three.
The Commentators were going nuts:
Commentator 1: Jace, 'The Rainmaker,' is the glue holding this Starling team together!. He's the only one Keima or Jensen will pass to!. It's like they're sending him passive-aggressive gifts!
Commentator 2: Does it even matter. You can't argue with this result, can you?. They might hate each other, but the 'Unholy Trinity' is dominating JRC with solo genius.
By the middle of the second quarter, JRC was exhausted, their rotation confused by our contradictory play. Jensen ran the offense with surgical precision, scoring or assisting on every deliberate possession. I took every selfish, spectacular shot I could find.
Jensen's baskets were pure mid-range jumpers, perfect fast-break layups, never missing an easy look. He was the epitome of Starling's Light, bright and predictable. My baskets were the sound of tearing nets and frustrated opponents. I hit a contested step-back three, with a defender in my face, and then followed it up with a ferocious chase-down block, slapping the ball into the stands. I was the Wonder Kid, all risk and reward.
The scoreboard screamed our success: Starling Strike 58, JRC High 32. A 26-point difference with less than 30 seconds left in the half.
Coach's plan had to be executed now, before the buzzer.
JRC desperately launched a contested three. It clanked hard off the back iron. Jace grabbed the rebound and, seeing me already streaking down the court, gave me a nod and fired a long, straight outlet pass.
The ball hung in the air, arcing towards me near the three-point line. This was the drill Jensen and I practiced. Just as I reached the ball, I felt a shadow, a blur of white jersey coming from my left.
Jensen, who had no business being that far down the court that fast, lunged.
The timing was terrifyingly perfect. I reached for the ball, and he lunged for it too, selling the desperation that the pass was for him. Well like you expect, instead of snatching the ball, he got me. A loud, theatrical thump echoed through the gym.
Jensen's shoulder slammed into my ribs, and his momentum, combined with my forward motion, sent us both tumbling to the floor. My already bandaged ankle twisted just enough beneath me to sell the pain, and I let out a loud, convincing gasp, fighting to show I was winded. The collision was a masterful piece of body language designed to look career-ending. The JRC crowd went momentarily silent. We sold it that well. We deserve oscar awards I tell you.
I lay there, clutching my ribs, fighting to breathe, fully aware of the eyes watching. Jensen was draped over me, groaning loudly. He looked up, his face a perfect mask of agony and rage at whatever got him like that, chill the fuck out, we're just acting for heavens sake.
He rolled off me, but as he did, he subtly placed his hand over my taped wrist. His fingers pressed a sequence: tap-tap-tap, then a hard squeeze. Why the fuck is he using morse code on me?. Well I got the picture: It's time for the Final act.
I didn't need any more direction. I started yelling, pushing myself onto my elbows, staring straight into Jensen's eyes with manufactured fury layered over the professional performance.
Me: You fucking idiot!. You absolute, selfish asshole!. What the fuck is wrong with you?.
I screamed at the top of my lungs, making sure the entire arena could hear my outrage. Jensen roared back, clutching his own knee dramatically.
Jensen: Me?!. Are you fucking dumb?. Are you fucking blind?. Didn't you see the ball was for me?.
I made myself stand to sell my final act, and immediately fell holding the ankle while moaning and screaming in pain.
Me: I'll kill you Jensen!. I'll fucking kill you!.
Jensen just remained knees down, holding his right shoulder obviously acting his part, but also shocked at my choice of words.
It didn't take much time before the coaches from both teams flooded the court. The buzzer sounded, mercifully ending the half. But I'm thinking we over sold it cause JRC were looking petrified. They probably haven't seen "injuries" like this, or this sort of reaction between teammates. All's well that ends well I guess.
As Coach Fuckface and the team medics reached us, I locked eyes with Jensen one last time. We were both being helped off the court with stretchers, two great actors succeeding in the role of the injured and broken. The lie was complete. We had won the battle, but we had both paid a price to set the trap.
TO BE CONTINUED******