You blink, looking around as you hear a loud buzzing noise. The sound of dribbling basketballs fills your ears; you're in the gym! The rest of your team is doing layup practice, but something's...off. You watch, wide-eyed, as every single member of your team leaps into the air and dunks the ball!
"They're basketball stars."
You turn, and see Mark sitting on the sidelines next to you. He looks different; older, bigger. Much bigger than you; he's palming a basketball in one hand, and he's almost a head taller than you with you both sitting!
"Uh...what?" you ask weakly, your eyes drawing over his long, lanky frame.
"They're basketball stars." He says again, nodding toward the team. "Think about it, man. You're sixteen years old, right? And you're stuck on the JV team with us. We're all fourteen, or fifteen, maybe halfway into our growth spurts, and half the team is bigger and better than you."
"You're sixteen, too." You mutter.
"What do you think we'll look like when we're your age?" He asked as though you hadn't said anything. You turn and watch Tim, who's usually the shortest on the whole team, do a spin while jumping before jamming the ball through the hoop, hanging from the rim and hooting. His feet are pointed down, and the toes are a lot closer to the floor than they should be.
"Not like this," you say back, standing. You gulp as Mark slowly rises, and rises, and rises! "This...this is impossible!"
"It's because we want it," he insists, dragging you over to the team, and handing you the ball. You fumble it with both hands; he shakes his head at you and takes the ball back. He holds it over your head.
"Do you want it?" He demands, glaring down at you.
"What?" Your mouth feels dry.
"Do. You. Want. It?" He asks, raising the ball higher.
"Yes." You whisper.
"Yes what?" he asks, bending down to glare right in your face. It's like he's yelling at a small child! "What do you want?"
"I want to be a basketball star." You say, louder.
The rest of the team has stopped practicing. They're all standing around the hoop, watching you. They're all grinning.
"What?" Mark asks, holding a giant hand to his ear. "Can't hear ya, tiny. What do you want?"
"I WANT TO BE A BASKETBALL STAR!" You yell right back in his face, jumping for the ball.
Mark slams his hand on your shoulder, grabbing the hole side of your chest and forcing you to stand, lifting the ball over your head.
"Then WANT it," he whispered at you, staring into your eyes. "Reach for it!"
You reach up, stretching, straining. Your body feels tight, sweat beads on your brow. Mark only lifts the ball higher.
"I said....REACH!" He shouted.
You struggle, gasping and heaving your body out. You go on tiptoes, your fingers brush the ball! Mark only pushes down harder, forcing your heels back to the ground. Around you, you hear your team, your friends, they're all chanting for you! 'Reach, reach, reach, reach!"
You struggled harder, straining with your fingers for the ball. You snarl a bit at Mark, but to your own surprise you're grinning so hard that it's making your cheeks hurt. Your fingertips brush something at your limit....no! You can get it! You have no limit! You're -
"I'm a Basketball Star," you growl at your team-mate, glaring straight forward into his eyes. "Now give me the ball!"
"You got it, captain!" He grins, and lets you go. You jump, stretching out your arm, and finally make the grab. But it isn't the ball in your palm.
It's the basketball hoop.
Loud beeping wakes you up; you're panting and covered in sweat, but your head seems clear. When you feel your joints ache, you don't pay it much attention. When you feel a slight breeze around your ankles after you put on your pants, you ignore it. And when your toes jam hard against the fronts of your shoes as you cram the heels in, you just grin fiercely.
You have half a dozen eggs, four pieces of toast, eight sausages, and LOTS of milk for breakfast. Then you head to school early to grab some time at the gym, tugging down on your shirt as it keeps riding up. You've complained about being too small to play Varsity for too long; wanting it, working for it, REACHING for it is half the battle.
You're a basketball star.