Wednesday night we have a game. It's a home game and that means my dad and my grandparents will be there. It's nice that they show up and support me, but I just wish Grandma Carolyn would stop yelling my name out. It's both distracting and embarrassing. She doesn't understand basketball, so she keeps yelling how the other team isn't playing fair when they have just stolen the ball from our point guard. Even though I am no where near the guy, she keeps yelling my name. "Stop him, Rory."

Thankfully, none of the other guys have paid attention to it, because no one is giving me a hard time. The coach is putting me in more than Taylor. Every time I return to the bench Taylor is the only one who won't high five me or even look me in the eye. He's too busy sulking.

"What's up your butt?" I whisper.

"Why isn't he putting me in? Howie Benjamin is making mistake after mistake. Why doesn't coach pull him out and put me in?" Taylor says in a low hiss.

"Ask him."

He looks at me with a sour expression. "Sure, French, I'll do just that," he snarls.

"French, you're in. Take over for Carlton," Coach yells from several feet away.

I jump up and go check in at the scorekeeper's table. I would feel bad for Taylor but he hasn't caught on that his attitude is keeping him benched. I know why I'm being put in. I'm one of the tallest players on the team. Taylor is one of the shortest.

Even though half the team hated me at one point in the season, they are starting to pass the ball to me more and more. I have a killer floater, where I jump and shoot while in mid air. Even the coach told me he hasn't seen any sophomore in his twenty-plus years of coaching who could do that.

When the ball lands in my hands just four seconds before the end of the game, I channel the basketball player in my soul and shoot. It hits the backboard with a thud, and drops in. It ain't pretty, but it's three points.

I look over at the bench and everybody is jumping up and down. Coach is standing straight up, arms up in a victory stance. The look of sheer happiness and surprise is priceless.

I scour the stands and see my dad. His usual stoic expression is split ear to ear with a smile. He raises his hand and gives a thumbs up. Grandma Carolyn and Granddad are, I'm sure, bragging to everyone around them that I am their grandson.

I glance at the bench and see Taylor. His sour pus look is unchanged. He's grabbing his warm up jersey and his half empty Gatorade. To look at him, you would never know his team had just won the game. He couldn't have looked any less enthused if he were headed to a funeral.

It really kind of bothers me. I don't understand people like him. Why not be happy for all of us? If he had just scored the winning basket, I'd have hauled ass out on the court and probably picked him up. But he isn't like that. He's the kind of guy who goes through life looking for his own reflection every where he turns.

I start to go back to the bench to collect my stuff, when I hear my name being called.

"Rory!"

I spin around to find Cassie standing just a couple feet away.

"Rory, you were so good out there tonight," she says. She's wearing a thin blue shirt that keeps slipping off of her shoulder. And from what I can tell, she's not wearing a bra. Either that or it is seriously cold in the gym, if you get my meaning.

"Hey, thanks."

"I never knew you could play like that."

"There's probably a lot you don't know about me," I say, then wink like I've seen my dad do.

"Something in your eye?" she asks.

"No. I was- never mind."

She dips her head just enough for that beautiful mane of hair the slide forward. It takes every ounce of resolve not to touch it. "Well, I just wanted to tell you I think you were the best one out there."

She starts to walk away. Panic builds and I know that if I don't do something right this minute, I never will.

"Cassie, wait. What are you doing Saturday night?"

"I was going to-."

I stop her. "You are going out with me."

"But you don't have a license."

I fake a cocky smile and lean in to whisper to her. "Don't you worry about it. Things have changed in the past couple of weeks. I'll pick you up around nine."

This angelic look of confusion settles on her face. "What are we gong to do?"

"Go to the party of the year, what else?" I say, then turn away leaving her staring at me like she's seeing me for the first time.

I gotta say, it's a damned good feeling.