Chapter Six When the Court Feels Empty
341 Words
The gym in Santo Domingo was boiling. The air smelled like sweat and rubber, the floor sticky from hours of practice. Dylan bounced the ball, trying to focus, but his mind wasn’t here. It was there—in Chicago, in that café picture.
His coach blew the whistle.
“¡Vamos, Dylan! Concentrate!”
Dylan dribbled hard, drove to the hoop, jumped—too high, too rushed—
CLANG.
The ball hit the rim, bounced off.
“¿Qué carajo?” he muttered under his breath.
The whole team stared. Dylan never missed that shot.
The locker room
Later, his teammate Mateo slapped his shoulder.
“Bro, you got problems. Girl problems, ¿verdad?”
Dylan stayed silent, towel over his head.
“Man, I seen you. Phone, scrolling, angry face. Esa chica got you.”
Dylan snapped, “Shut up, bro. I don’t care about her.”
But his voice cracked, and everybody knew he was lying.
Chicago nights
Meanwhile, Keisha lay in bed, the snow tapping against her window. Her phone screen lit up with messages from that same boy she’d had coffee with. But she didn’t feel her chest race like when Dylan’s name appeared.
She whispered to herself, “Why do I keep checking if he’s online? He’s not even… mine.”
Her best friend Mariah texted:
“Girl, you thinking about DR boy again?”
Keisha rolled her eyes, but her thumbs betrayed her:
“Maybe… idk. It’s stupid, right?”
Mariah replied fast:
“Not stupid. Maybe fate.”
The breaking point
Back in DR, Dylan lay in bed, phone in hand. He opened Keisha’s profile again, stared at the photo with the green-eyed guy. His chest felt heavy.
He whispered, “She’s living life… and I’m just here. Maybe she deserves better than a boy with broken grades and cracked courts.”
He typed a message:
“I think maybe we should stop talking. You got your life there.”
But his finger shook over the send button. He couldn’t press it. Not yet
- Writer
