Monday morning at school, Shaena walked quickly down the hallway. She passed several of her teammates, who all waved to her. They looked like they wanted to ask how she was doing, but Shaena just gave a half-hearted wave and darted into her classroom before anyone could talk to her.
First period had just started, and already she could feel the headache that had stuck with her all weekend starting behind her eyes. After Marisol had left Saturday, Shaena had spent her time either lying in bed or lying on the couch, bored and miserable.
It’s a good thing we have Jessie! Marisol had said. Shaena couldn’t seem to stop hearing those words.
After suffering through the school day, Shaena walked into the gym before practice. She found Coach Riley and handed her Dr. Lee’s note.
“That’s what I was afraid of,” Coach said after she’d read the slip of paper. “How do you feel?”
“Fine,” replied Shaena, tired of answering the same question. “Can I stay for practice?”
Coach checked the note again. “Yes,” she said slowly. “You can watch and learn our new play so you’re ready to jump in when you’re healed.”
Shaena grinned.
“But,” continued Coach in a stern voice, “that means no basketball — no dribbling, no running, no cheering. You’re just watching. Got it?”
Shaena let out a loud sigh. “Got it.”
“Good,” said Coach. “For now, take it easy on the bench. If you feel unwell or need anything, just let me know.”
Shaena nodded and sat down with a heavy thud, suddenly in a bad mood. She expected her mom to baby her but not Coach Riley.
Soon the locker room door banged open, and the team spilled out into the gym. Everyone was laughing and talking and ready for another practice.
Coach blew her whistle. Shaena felt a dull throb of pain in her head at the shrill sound, but she walked to the huddle with the rest of the team.
“We have a lot to get through before Thursday’s game,” began Coach Riley, “so just a couple of quick things and then we’ll get started.”
Coach gently patted Shaena’s shoulder. “As you know, Shaena took a hard hit at the end of Friday’s game. She’s suffered a minor concussion, so she’ll be sitting out until she heals up,” she told the team.
Shaena’s teammates voiced their shock with shouts of: “No!” and “Poor Shaena!” Immediately, Shaena felt even worse. She was letting her team down. Now she felt guilty and annoyed.
“She’ll be back soon, we hope,” Coach said over the chatter. “In the meantime, Jessie, you’ll have to step up.”
Jessie gave a nod and shot Shaena a sympathetic look. Shaena just studied a scuffmark on the floor.
Coach clapped her hands. “Now, let’s work on the three-person weave,” she instructed.
The team hustled into three lines under the basket for the drill. Shaena silently walked back to the bench on the sideline to watch.
Soon, the players were sweating and breathing hard as they worked to perfect their skills. The frustrated feeling grew in the pit of Shaena’s stomach as she watched her teammates. I’d give anything to be out there right now, she thought.
After the team was done with the weave drill, Coach Riley set up the new play. Instead of Shaena in the post, though, Jessie took the position.
Jealousy and fear surged through Shaena. Jessie seemed to understand the play on the first try. It was a twist on the traditional give-and-go, a move where a player passed the ball and then ran to the basket to be ready to receive it again. The play seemed specifically designed for Jessie and her hook shot from the middle of the lane.
The team ran the play until everyone had it down. Then Coach blew her whistle, and the girls stopped.
A loose ball rolled over toward Shaena as the team prepared for another drill. Half of the players were lined up along one long side of the court, with the other half of the team on the other side.
Shaena immediately recognized the exercise — a fast-break continuous three-on-two drill that Coach Riley called Guts and Glory.
The drill was fast-paced and fun — and it was Shaena’s favorite. Now she could only sit and watch.
For the second time in just a few days, Shaena fought back tears. She looked down at the ball by her feet. Technically, Coach never said I couldn’t shoot the ball, she reasoned.
Without another thought, Shaena grabbed the ball and defiantly walked over to a side basket.
Thunk. Swish. Bounce.
Shaena threw a short shot off the backboard and into the net. The movement and the thunk of the ball bouncing on the floor jarred Shaena’s head. But the sounds of the drill happening behind her made her more determined. She grabbed the ball again.
Thunk. Swish. Bounce.
Thunk. Swish. Bounce.
“Shaena!” shouted a voice.
Shaena looked over her shoulder. Coach Riley was running toward her. Her teammates had stopped the drill and were staring at her.
“Shaena, give me the ball,” Coach said crossly. “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you shoot. I realize I didn’t say that earlier, but you should know better — no basketball-related activities until you’ve been cleared by your doctor. If you can’t follow those rules, I can’t let you stay for practice.”
Shaena reluctantly held out the ball. “Sorry, Coach,” she mumbled. “It won’t happen again.”
The coach gave Shaena another warning look but took the ball and returned to the center court. Soon the team was running Guts and Glory again — without Shaena.
Shaena sat back down on the bench and waited for the end of practice, grumpier than ever. The occasional looks of sympathy from her teammates only made things worse.
Finally Coach Riley told the team she’d see them at tomorrow’s practice. Shaena felt relieved for the first time in her life that basketball was over for the day.
As she stood to leave, Marisol waved to her and called, “Shaena! Hey, Shaena!”
But Shaena pretended not to hear. Instead she walked as fast as her aching head would allow through the locker room and away from her team.