Fatty's Court

Chapter Four: Putting Aside Emotions, Starting Basketball

After returning home, Harry applied the muscle rub to his joints exactly as Coach Ruby had instructed. Once finished, he collapsed onto his bed and instantly fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next morning, the soreness had lessened slightly, but his knees were still incredibly painful. He had to grip the handrail tightly just to shuffle down the stairs.

Seeing Harry’s stiff, awkward gait, his mother felt a pang of worry. "Harry, honey, don't rush this weight loss thing. Take your time, okay?"

Harry forced a smile. "I'm okay, Mom. I know what I'm doing."

After a quick breakfast, Harry headed to Summit High. Since it was senior year, school life was a monotonous grind of exam prep. Most students at a top-tier school like Summit were incredibly studious, and the atmosphere was always tense.

During a break between classes, Harry turned to Charlie Logan. "Charlie, I want to learn how to play ball. Can you teach me?"

Charlie looked at Harry in genuine shock. "Holy crap, man. Did you actually damage your brain when you jumped?"

"Stop joking," Harry said seriously. "I'm for real. I want to lose weight, and I want an extracurricular activity I can actually get into."

Charlie grinned. "Alright, but you’re buying lunch."

When the bell rang for lunch, Charlie dragged Harry to a small bistro near the school. Since Summit High didn't have a formal cafeteria, the local restaurants were always swarming with students at noon.

They were lucky enough to snag two empty tables. Just as they started eating, four students walked through the door. Harry recognized one of them immediately—it was Brittany.

Brittany and her friends noticed Harry at the same time.

Harry greeted her with surprising casualness. "What a coincidence, Brittany."

Brittany looked at him, her expression polite but cautious. "Are you... feeling alright, Harry?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm good."

Brittany hesitated. "Actually, about the other day..."

Harry interrupted her with a calm smile. "It's okay. I really don't mind. You guys go ahead and eat."

After a few more polite words, Harry sat back down. Charlie, leaning in close, whispered in disbelief, "Are you brain-dead or just pretending to be a gentleman? Since when are you so chill about her?"

Harry didn't answer. He just said, "Eat your burger."

At that moment, Harry realized his feelings for Brittany had truly vanished. Instead, a flash of memory crossed his mind: Ruby Sutton handing him that water bottle last night. A warmth filled his heart. How wonderful would it be to have a friend like Ruby?

He immediately dismissed the thought. Judging by her looks, Coach Ruby was probably around 24—young, beautiful, and athletic. She definitely had a boyfriend. Why would she be interested in a guy like me?

After finishing, Harry did something that made Charlie think he’d officially lost his mind: he paid for Brittany and her friends' meal. Charlie was so annoyed he looked like he wanted to walk out.

As they left the restaurant, Charlie muttered, "Fatty, I know your family has money, but that was pathetic. She rejects you, and you buy her lunch? You’re just letting her slap you in the face twice."

Harry said calmly, "It’s precisely because I’ve let go that I’m at ease, Charlie. Brittany and I have been classmates for years. That meal was just a way to say thanks for the 'darkness' she gave me."

"Darkness?" Charlie asked, confused.

"The awakening," Harry said, sounding a bit poetic. "That feeling of wanting someone but not daring to confess, watching her from afar, suppressing everything so you don't scare her away... watching her laugh and wishing you were the reason. It was an experience. But now, it's over."

Charlie stared at him for a long beat. "This world has gone mad. You really did scramble your brains in that fall."

Harry ignored him. "I paid for your lunch like you asked. So, when are you teaching me basketball?"

Charlie’s opportunistic side instantly took over. "Look, Fatty, basketball takes a lot of time to master. We're seniors; we barely have time to breathe, let alone run drills."

Harry leveled a stare at him. "I see you on the court every single day after school. Don't play me, Charlie."

Charlie didn't even look embarrassed. "Okay, fine. How about I teach you over Winter Break?"

"Fine," Harry shrugged. "I was planning to take you out to a steakhouse every week as thanks, but if you're too busy, I'll just find someone else to teach me."

Charlie perked up instantly. "Wait! Did I say I was busy? Who am I? Your best friend! As the captain of the school team, nobody can teach you better than me. Consider me your personal trainer. Follow me to the courts after school tonight."

Charlie put an arm around Harry’s massive shoulder, making a verbal guarantee he probably wouldn't keep.

After school, Harry followed Charlie to a public court near the school rather than using the school’s gym. Charlie’s usual crew was already there.

Once they arrived, Charlie grabbed a ball, showed Harry a few basic dribbles, and said solemnly, "Brother, a teacher can open the door, but you have to walk through it yourself."

With that "deep" piece of advice, he promptly abandoned Harry to join a 3-on-3 game with his friends.

Harry stood on the sidelines, dribbling the ball awkwardly. He didn't mind. He knew basic skills had to be practiced until they were muscle memory. Besides, his knees were still throbbing; a high-intensity game would be suicide.

As the tallest guy on the court, Harry naturally attracted attention. People stopped to look at the giant "mountain" of a man. But the moment Harry started to dribble, the interest vanished. The ball bobbled away, and it was clear to everyone that he was a total amateur.

Slightly embarrassed, Harry moved to a far corner of the court to practice in private.

His movements looked like a bear trying to juggle—clumsy and heavy. Some passing students even stopped to giggle at the sight. But Harry was locked in. He focused all his energy on the ball, gradually increasing his speed. Even when the ball slipped away, he just chased it down and started again.

After about thirty minutes of focused dribbling, Harry waved goodbye to Charlie and started his journey home.

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