Dawayne Michaels was skilled, yet a bored and somewhat slipshod individual. He lived what people call the “average teenage life” with a prideful and stubborn little charm to it. He was very attractive and intelligent though he just refused to care about much. Last Wednesday was when a much needed left turn in his life had come. It was shortly after one o’clock that he’d made his way to gym class? late again from simply taking his time. The gym teacher scolded as he took his seat on the bleachers. He had little to no reaction except a slight shrug of his shoulders. Towards the end of class he was shooting ball and caught the attention of Roman Ramirez, a member of the basketball team. Roman is tall with jet black hair and coffee brown eyes. He’s the type of guy that’s extremely straight to the point about things. He briefly contemplates, then determines what’s best and goes for what he wants. At that moment what he wanted seemed to be Dawayne. Roman sat back but observed him closely. Finally agreeing with himself that he’d seen all he needed to see, he stood up and called out to him.

“Hey Dawayne!” he exclaimed.

He beckoned him over as soon as he acknowledged him. Dawayne decided to make another shot first, moving on his own time. Moments later a soft swish echoed throughout the gym. He then made his way over to Roman, who had just started to think he was being ignored. As he walked he wondered, “What could he possibly want from me?”, but he figured he’d give the guy a chance.

“What’s up, man?” Dawayne said.
“Nothing much, I was just watching you shoot.”
“Really?” he said, straight-faced. “That’s all you called me o?”
“Have you ever considered trying out for the team?” Roman interrupted.
“The team?” he paused, “The… the basketball team?”
“Yeah, man. You really have some talent. You could do the team some good.”
“You think so, huh? Well, it has never crossed my mind.”
The bell rang.
“See you later.” Dawayne concluded.
With that, he proceeded to the other side of the gym to gather his things and leave. Roman refused to accept this apparent decline and gave his final try.
“Try outs start on next Monday! Just… give it some thought.”

Dawayne continued through the double doors of the gym. He went outside, got on the bus, and put his ear buds into his ears as soon as he was seated. He wasn’t sure how to feel after the short conversation. He was sick and tired of having that discussion. He wanted to be upset, but with Roman or himself? Certainly not Roman because he never would’ve known how he really felt. Dawayne was standing in his own way at this point. You see, the simple truth was that he strongly disliked all the responsibility and pressure put on a student-athlete once they played for a school team. It didn’t mesh well with his lackadaisical attitude. The growing number of people asking the exact question Roman had of him was starting to get under his skin too. He stared out of the bus window. He’d had enough. “These people don’t understand…” he thought, “Maybe I should send a mass text about how I’ll NEVER try out!” letting himself get angrier. It was no use though. He’d always been able to tell himself right from wrong and right now he knew. He hung his head as music swirled around in the background of his deep thoughts.
Why are the seemingly small things always the biggest issues for teenagers?

The bus finally stopped at his two-story, brick house. No one was home as usual. The dog was sound asleep in her dog house. His room was downstairs; He went straight there to lie down. He drifted to sleep with music still playing in his ears.

About two and a half hours later he woke up. He sleepily checked the time. It was 6:26pm. He remembered a homework sheet he had to do as his stomach growled. He went in the kitchen to fix himself a Hot Pocket. He put it in the microwave and his brain slammed its brakes. He realized he had a dream while he slept. He closed his eyes and focused, trying to remember it all. He was back on the court. He was… in a game? The ball had just been turned over to his team and it found its way into his hands.
“GO!” he heard loudly from somewhere behind him. He dribbled down the court to their basket and stopped suddenly at the three-point line.
“Shoot it Dawayne!” a team member yelled.
It was his best friend, Keith Kollins. He was on the team too? There was no time to question that right now. Dawayne shot the ball. The crowd screamed with excitement as the buzzer sounded.
POP!
His eyes shot open at the sound of his burnt Hot Pocket exploding against the glass of the microwave.
“Whoa”, he whispered.
After cleaning up the mess and letting another one cook, he headed back to his room. He completed that homework assignment and cut on his television. The dream crossed his mind over and over again as he watched one of his favorite sitcoms. He soon gave in, toiling at analyzing outcomes of the different decisions he could make.

“Maybe, just maybe, I’ll give it a shot… I’ll just have to talk to Keith first.”
The next morning he arrived to school, urgently searching for his best and closest friend. He saw him further up the hall and caught his attention.
”Hey Dawayne, what’s with you?” Keith said when he reached him.
“Yo, I had a crazy dream yesterday”, he said smiling.
“Ew, man. I don’t want to hear about that.”
“Whoa, no” he said laughing, “It was about basketball.”
“Oh, ha-ha, that’s different. What happened?”
Dawayne described the whole thing to him as they continued through the commotion of their fellow students. They’d stopped in front of their classes, each on either sides of the hall.
“Wow that is crazy.” Keith said. “You know what this might mean right?”
“I… I believe so.” Dawayne said.

Keith and Dawayne sat with Roman during lunch to get more information about tryouts. Dawayne also apologized about his attitude towards Roman during the conversation they’d had on yesterday. Both Roman and Keith were a bit surprised. Even Dawayne himself seemed shocked after the fact but he’d said it. The school day went on as usual. The weekend went by smoothly as well. It was soon Monday and tryouts began.

It was a two week long process. Dawayne and Keith successfully made every cut. Soon the team was formed and talk of their first game coming up had started. The team was excited and they’d been practicing hard. Dawayne was changing his careless ways slowly but surely. It was the evening before game day and Dawayne stepped out on to his porch. He went to feed his dog and saw the mailbox out of his peripheral vision. He was crossing the street to check it as a blue car turned onto his street. The car was moving at a high rate of speed for some reason. It flew down the narrow street with Dawayne directly in its headlights.

(To be continued)