Finn cares about his sister, his mind already going to the worst possible scenario. I know because that similar thought has crossed all our minds. It doesn’t have to be spoken aloud for us all to think it.
Would Rory run away again?
I want to say the chances of that are slim, but I can’t be sure and that’s stressful. How many times has she said after she turns eighteen, she’s gone? Too many to make anyone comfortable.
“I texted Hailey. She doesn’t know either,” Finn says.
That’s when things first started to shift. I’d searched for Rory up in her normal spot right before the start of the game. Same as I do every time, only this time Hailey was by herself.
She shrugged her shoulders, looking as baffled as I felt.
Trying not to overreact, I gave my girl some time, thinking she might be running late. Quarter after quarter passes, and nothing. By half, all the hellhounds are way past freaking out.
My senses are on high alert, knowing something’s wrong.
Coach is still chewing us all out, but it’s useless because you can feel the weight of defeat. It hangs in our circle like the stench of stale urine.
The team’s tired, beaten. No one has the same energy as normal. The willingness to push through the struggle of downfall isn’t there.
We have too many wins to not make it to districts, so we have that going for us, but it still sucks. Our plans for a perfect regular season stretch further out of reach.
Perfection rapidly depletes, slipping away with each new tick of the clock. We win as a team, and we lose the same way.
The shooting guard’s been acting like he’s still out with injury. His ballhandling skills are absolute trash tonight. Eli, our anchor on defense, is one more bad block away from getting his ass thrown out of the game.
And our power forward, yeah, don’t even get me started on what the fuck he’s attempting to do. He’s acting like he’s never set a screen in his life. People passing left and right.
I can agree I’m not playing my best either, but my dead grandfather could block better. And he’s been dead for twenty-plus years, buried in the Kellet family’s private mausoleum.
“That new phone I gave her has a built-in tracker. Her phone says she’s still at the Caspers’,” Eli says, trying to be helpful.
If I wasn’t so distraught over how helpful that is right now, I’d be pissed at him for setting that up. Not only because he’s disregarding Rory’s privacy but for going behind our backs.
“She left her phone last time, remember?”
“I know,” Eli says, answering Finn quietly.
Finn groans, frustrated as he tracks the unnamed faces in the stands again. Coming up empty, same as every other time before.
“Casper!” Coach’s voice booms over everything else. “Eyes on the ball, not the crowd. Focus!” Yelling at Finn when he misses another shot a little while later.
His signature bank shot coming up empty again. Each one becoming worse the more off balance he gets. The longer we play, the more he gets in his head.
Another whistle is blown, and this time, it’s Eli who’s grunting. Charging with annoyance as he takes his seat on the bench, fouling out for the rest of the game.
Not that any of it makes a difference by this point.
I can’t remember in the four years that we’ve played on this team ever doing this awful. It’s like our team has been swapped with a completely different one. This isn’t normal.
None of us are working together, we aren’t being a team. It looks bad from down here, so I can only imagine how bad it looks from the crowd’s point of view. As disappointing for them as it is to us.
We have a reputation to uphold.
My phone has been in my pocket the entire time and I haven’t felt a single vibration.
I tell myself I’m overreacting, but that’s it. I don’t believe a word of it, not when it involves the love of my life. Not when something like this has happened before.
“Anything?” Finn asks briefly in passing.