*- NARRATIVE, CONTACTS

I woke up to someone kicking me.  I groaned, turning to bury my face into my pillow, but the insistent kicks continued.

"Wake up, Frankie," Liv snapped, shaking me softly.  "It's nearly 11."

"Fuck off," I grumbled, pulling the blankets over my head.  I heard the brunette sigh before getting off of the small bed we had shared, and a second later the scraping sound of the blinds being pulled open echoed through the room.  "Go away, Liv."

"Gracie and Mac are already at the mechanics to see what's up with the car.  And we have to leave for the game when they get back," she explained, pulling the blanket off of me.  "Come on, get up and go get ready."

I sat up, yawning and stretching my arms out, knowing my hair was already messy.  "What game?"

"As a payment to Malcolm for driving us and letting us crash here till the car is fixed, we thought it was a good idea to go to the girl's game this afternoon."

I sighed, rubbing my face as I groggily stumbled to the tiny bathroom connected to the guest room.  "I hate being the introvert of the group.  So many plans, 24/7."

"Just the game and maybe dinner or something after.  Then you're free to space out all you want," Olivia said, handing me some appropriate clothes to wear out.

"It's not spacing out, Liv.  I'm constructing complicated universes and scenes in my mind," I responded, turning my back to change.  "Meticulously crafted as a coping mechanism I've used since I was a kid.  I'm an artist."

"Well, Ms. Artist, hurry up because Grace and Mac are 6 minutes away and we'll go in 10," Liv called as she walked out of the room, leaving me alone in the bathroom.

I took one look at my face and groaned loudly.  "I'm a fucking mess, you know!"

"You have 9 minutes to un-mess yourself, Du Boise!"

-

"So we're stranded in the middle of Iowa for a week," Olivia repeated in shock, her face a mask of confusion.  "What's wrong with the car?"

From what I heard while I was sinking in and out of sleep, the engine had overheated and failed.  Due to its age and lack of use, the vehicle was much easier to break than we had first assumed when we had started the road trip in LA.

"The Jeep is old, like, really old," Mac responded, shrugging.  "Why didn't you guys take a, you know, newer car?"

"Aesthetic purposes, Malcolm," I stated with confidence.  "Aesthetic purposes."  The man shook his head in disbelief. 

-

"Which team am I supposed to clap for?" I asked as we entered the large stadium, just hours before the Iowa Hawkeyes faced the LSU Tigers.

For April, it was rather hot, and Liv had picked out a white shirt and long dark blue cargo shorts that skimmed my knees.

"Preferably us," Malcolm squeaked, chuckling. 

We walked into the large room, the sleek wooden basketball court sitting in the center of large rings of chairs, rising higher into the air until they almost hit the large, dome-like ceiling.  Bright lights shined down on us, and a series of large screens hung overhead and were placed on the walls.  Yellow, black, and white littered the arena, posters, flags, and other items decorated the home stadium of the Hawkeyes.

I looked around, spinning my body to see as much as I could.  "Wow," I murmured.  It was electrifying to be standing in here, even when it was empty.  I could imagine the game, the shots, the roar of the crowd.  So much effort and pride was put into this, the team, the decoration.  "Amazing."

"You guys want to shoot around while I go get the girls from the locker room?" Malcolm offered, pushing out a metal cart holding rows of basketballs.

"Oh..." I mumbled as Gracie grabbed one and attempted to dribble.  Olivia cheered, throwing a ball at me.  I fumbled to catch it before righting myself, looking between Malcolm and the hoop, which the two girls were making their way to.

"I'll be right back," the man stated before walking away, disappearing behind the stands.  I blinked slowly, feeling the rough pattern of the rubber in my hands as I tossed it between my hands nervously.

I wasn't a basketball player.  I was short as a kid and only managed to crawl to 5'7 in the more recent years.  I had tended to stick with drawing, and doodling in the stands as my friends spread out to play soccer, basketball, volleyball, andsoftball, and participated in track and field.

"Come on, Frankie," Gracie called, and her voice seemed to drag me over to them.  "What were you doing over there?  You froze."

"Uhm...you know, just lost in my thoughts...as usual," I stammered, turning back to the hoop.  The once magnificent feeling to be standing in the stadium was drowned by a sinking loneliness that was long embedded in my mind.

There's so much pressure, always.  To be that person everyone wants you to be, that everyone likes, and to be yourself as well.  They want a new album, I want a break.  No matter where I run, even in Iowa, I feel so, so alone in this sea of expectations.  I'm told to get more sleep, it should help my mental health.  I try yet I'm still exhausted when the sun rises.  I'm so tired of not being understood.

Sometimes I just wish someone could look into my mind and understand everything I'm going through.  Everything I can't describe, they see it.  They finally see it.

I take the shot.  I perched the basketball on my fingers as Augustin had taught me when we were kids and pushed it up, forward, high into the sky.  I watched as it slowly drifted away from my fingertips, watched as the bird opened its wings and flew higher and higher.

Then slowly, it tucked them close to its body, its wings clutched to its side as it dove down, towards the water, the circle of the surface they could break through the only thing it could see.  With a splash, it shattered the rippling water and slid into the depths of the ocean.
The basketball fell through the net swiftly and bounced on the wooden floor loudly.  I stared blankly at the hoop but could only see the water, and the bright blue sky.  The bird's dive had caused white ripples to float across the waves, away from the spot the animal splashed down on.

"I didn't know you could shoot, Frankie," Malcolm exclaimed from behind us.  I turned to see him and the rest of the team, all wearing similar white jerseys with their hair pulled back, watching me.

"I can't," I stated with a shrug, looking back at my wall.  "That was the extent of my basketball skills."

"You had good form too," he continued, and I groaned internally.  "Anybody in your family play sports?"

"My brother played basketball and volleyball," I responded, shoving my hands back into my pockets nervously.  "He showed me how to shoot when we were kids.  I suppose it was muscle memory."

"Sub her in during halftime, Coach," one of the girls called from the group, making my cheeks flush at such attention as everyone laughed.

"Yeah, yeah, shush, Gabbie," Malcolm chided, rolling his eyes.  "Alright, quick introduction before we practice.  This is Olivia, Gracie, and Frankie.  They're visiting for a little bit."

Olivia and Gracie smiled at the group as I awkwardly waved, already noticing every possible exit way to escape.

"This is the team.  We got Sydney, Taylor, Kylie, AJ, Molly, Kennise, Jada, Kate, Gabbie, Caitlin, Ava, Addison, Sharon, and Hannah."  Malcolm pointed to each one, and the girls smiled at us.  "Thanks for coming, ladies."

Olivia put on a brilliant smile, looking directly at her boyfriend.  "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

I coughed in my fist.  "Whipped."  That earned some chuckles from the other girls as Malcolm and the head coach Lisa Bluder organized warm-ups for the game.

I stood by the seats, watching as basketballs flew through the air, some hitting the backboard and bouncing away or swishing through the net easily. 

"It was a good shot."

"Huh?" I said absentmindedly, turning to my left to see a familiar face sitting on a chair close to me, looking at me while holding her water bottle.  I watched as she tipped her head back and squeezed the flexible plastic water bottle just enough to shoot water into her mouth.

"Your shot was pretty great." The girl watched me as I bit back a smile, shaking my head.  "And Coach was right, your form was excellent."

"You were watching my form?" I asked, smirking.  I received no reply.

"I'm Caitlin."

"Frankie."

"What landed you in Iowa?"

"A series of very unfortunate events," I grumbled, sitting down next to her.  "You've been here your whole life?"

"Uh, yeah," Caitlin responded, nodding.  "From Des Moines.  What about you?"

"Born and raised in France, moved here when I was, like, 16."

"You're French?"

"As American as you are."

We both chuckled softly, and I shook my head, smiling.  "You should go warm up," I told the girl, leaning back in my seat.

"And what if I want to talk to you some more?"

I thought for a long moment, amused by the woman as much as she intrigued me.  "If you win the game and you score more than 20 points, I will take you out for lunch soon.  Then you will have my full attention for at least an hour.  As payment for giving me food yesterday."

"Deal!" She stuck out her hand, grinning confidently.  "20 points is too easy."  I raised my eyebrows, shaking her hand firmly.

"Would you like me to raise it?"

"Nah, I don't want to fumble," Caitlin called as she got up, moving back.  "See you after the game!"  I was confused by her statement, and only later when I had called my brother in the silent night, in the safety of my bedroom did I learn what the sentence meant.

-

The crowd was far louder than anything I had expected.  Cameras had danced around us just moments ago, and our faces had appeared on the large screens.  I had smiled, all hesitation and shyness forced out of it as I gave a wave.  Our names had been announced dramatically to the audience by the commentators, and they had roared even louder.  I would not know how to explain to my brother why I was at a basketball game in Iowa, but would simply laugh and brush it off.

Then the players came out one by one, in a line.  They announced each girl, and the lights would dance across the court, the crowd, and the teams.  All I saw was yellow, black, and white, all I heard was cheering.  The chanting didn't seem to stop till we had returned home, far away from the stadium.

Malcolm had gotten us courtside seats, and I felt the energy through my feet, the rhythmic pounding as fans stomped their feet down along to the beat of the music.  It was overwhelming, but at the same time so thrilling.

Malcolm, Bluder, and the team were set up on the other side of the court, at the very far left end, while the opposing team, LSU, sat a handful of seats away from us, on the right side of the court.  I was tucked between Gracie on the right and Olivia on the left, who were soaking up the energy with their drinks and food in hand.

The start of the game was a flurry of blows from the Hawkeyes.  One bucket after another sank in, lifting their lead higher and higher.  Caitlin was making shots left and right, deep threes that miraculously made it in.  Sometime during the 2nd quarter, Caitlin had fired a shot in the corner, watching as it went in easily.  The woman seemed to be counting her points because as she ran past me, she grinned widely and waved at me, a sign that she had surpassed 20.

The end of the 2nd and length of the 3rd was mostly LSU making a powerful comeback, nobody could stop the players as they charged through to score layups or shots from deep.  They were close by the end, with Iowa winning by 7 points.

The win was amazing, as LSU had beaten them in this same round last year.  To see the girls cheering, confetti falling, and the crowd celebrating was thrilling.  We clapped from the sidelines, the standing ovation just growing.  The team danced in a circle in the center of the court, cheering loudly as a large wooden trophy was held up by the coaches, hats and T-shirts given out to the ladies.

"So...they're going to the championship?" I asked, looking at Olivia and Gracie.  They both shrugged, just as confused.

A group of fans behind us started talking at once, calling our attention to them.

"They're going to the Final-"

"The Final Four!"

"Go Hawkeyes!"

"Wooo!"

I laughed at the enthusiasm, grinning widely.  "You guys enjoy the game?" I asked about the noise and received many agreements.  "Who's your favorite player?"

"Caitlin!"

I raised my eyebrows at such an enthusiastic response from the large group.  "I guess she is alright," I admitted, shrugging as they dramatically gasped or jokingly booed.

"Just alright?  I scored 20 points just for you, pretty girl," a soft voice murmured in my ear.  I tilted my head to the side to see Caitlin smiling, waving at some fans.

"Don't start fires you can't put out, Clark," I advised, smiling politely as somebody held a shirt out for both of us to sign.

The woman gave me a nudge, greeting some fans.  Her body was pressed against my back, and from the corner of my eye, I could see Gracie and Olivia talking to Malcolm and some other girls.

"Can I pick where we're going for lunch tomorrow?" Caitlin asked confidently as she placed a long arm around my shoulder.  We waved goodbye to the group before I was led towards the other side of the court.  "Please?"

"Picking wasn't in the deal, Caitlin," I reminded her, observing the bright wooden basketball court.  Each step felt like an echo in the massive stadium, and for a moment it felt like there was no noise.

The only noise was the faint cheering of the team from one end of the court, taking pictures and laying on the confetti that littered the floor, our footsteps didn't make a sound, and it was just Caitlin and I standing in the center of the court, her protective arm around my shoulder.  I had known her for barely 24 hours, yet something magnetic pulled us together.  I felt as if I was in the eye of the storm, where nobody's opinions could touch me or their insults couldn't rake my skin and mind like claws. 

"Well, what will it take for you to allow me to pick where we eat?" The player inquired curiously as she was congratulated by some strangers as we passed,

"Hmmm," I thought for a long moment.  "Your phone number and a jersey of yours.  Please."

Caitlin laughed, patting my head.  She was so tall, much taller than me that I felt hidden in her shadow, quite literally.  "It's too easy to please you," she commented.  "20 points for lunch and my number and jersey so I can pick where we eat?  I thought it would be harder."

"Don't get too confident, superstar," I quipped, patting her lightly on her chest.  "So...your number?"

The brunette tipped back her head and laughed, sounding as sweet as honey and addicting like sugar.  I watched in a daze as she laughed and laughed, such a pure sound, before looking back down at me with a dazzling gleam of humor in her eyes.

I pouted, though a smile was edging its way into my lips even as I said, "Hey, it's not funny!"

"You're hilarious, Frankie, you know that?" She grinned as she looked at me.  I ignored her as I took out my phone, holding it out.  Caitlin took it with ease, typing rapidly before handing it back to me.  "I texted myself."

"Glad you didn't give me a fake number, Clark," I commented teasingly, glancing through a flurry of messages from my brother.

"Why would I do that, pretty girl?"

I chuckled, shoving the girl playfully.  "I gotta get going, superstar," I stated, glancing behind me to see Olivia and Gracie waving for me to join them near the exit.  "Send me the lunch details?"

"As you wish."

I shook my head and laughed as I began to walk away.  "You're such a dork!"

"Just for you!"

As I approached my friends, they had amused looks on their faces.  "So...when are you guys gonna fuck?" Gracie asked, maintaining a straight face.

"And don't give us the we're-just-friends bullshit," Olivia added as we began the large hallway out.

I groaned.  "We're just friends, though!" I exclaimed, earning a slap from Liv.  "We met barely 24 hours ago!"

"You had literal heart eyes.  And she wasn't much better," Gracie pronounced, opening the glass doors that lead to the bustling parking lot, fans still hanging around the stadium.  "I heard you were taking her out to lunch too!"

"I offered to pay her back for the food last night.  Since none of my friends were paying attention to my pleas," I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest.  "Plus, she's picking."

"Oh, so it's that kind of date," Liv drawled out, grinning.  "Can we help pick out your outfit?"

"Please, pretty please, Frankie!" Gracie begged, shaking me violently.

"Yeah, yeah, ok, just let me go, man!" I yelped, scrambling to back away from my insane friends. 
"You two are scaring me."

"Frankie's got a date!" They chanted as we walked to our car.

CONTACTS

- S