Just beyond her stood Polly, with her pompoms waving and her perfect Ariana high pony. Most gals would’ve hated the girl who was dating the man they loved, but I couldn’t. I’d known Polly since we were children. She was a sweetheart. I couldn’t hate her, no matter how much I tried. Besides, it was my fault they were back together.
I’d made peace with that fact. It was time I moved on. It was time my heart said a final goodbye to Mason. And that’s what I was attempting to do as I watched the last few seconds of the game. I wished Mason nothing but happiness — and that included winning the biggest game of his high school career.
The timeout ended and Silver Lake took possession of the ball, throwing it into play. I held my breath as they dribbled it down the court to the opposite side of the gym. Their point guard was a short guy with quick hands and sharp elbows. Mason kept his vision trained on him the whole time, his muscles coiled and ready for attack. I recognized that expression in Mason’s eyes. This game wasn’t over yet. If anyone could make this win happen, it was him.
It wasn’t until the clock trailed down to five seconds left that Mason made his move. He struck faster than a python, the tips of his fingers knocking the ball loose from Silver Lake’s possession. It bounced a few feet, before Mason snatched it up and made a full court sprint toward the goal on my side of the gym.
I held my breath and tried not to squeal with worry. The muscles in Mason’s legs worked hard as he was flanked on both sides by Silver Lake team members. They did their best to knock the ball loose, to shove him around, but Mason kept firm control o
f the situation.
He was indescribable. He looked like an action movie hero. If I could’ve captured that moment in time in the shape of a marble sculpture, I would’ve stared at it for the rest of my life. As Mason’s feet left the ground in a layup, the ball flew from his fingers and hit the rim, bouncing back and forth. The entire gym inhaled in anticipation. Never had a second in time lasted so long. And as the scoreboard timer gave off a final, deafening buzz, the ball dropped into the basket.
“Rock Valley High wins the game!” the announcer screamed into the microphone.
A loud cheer left my mouth as I clapped my hands as hard as I could. My heart couldn’t have been happier for Mason. It swelled with pride as the Rock Valley High fans emptied the bleachers and swarmed the court.
This was the win that Mason had needed. Not only for his team, but to show the rest of school that he wasn’t some sickly person at death’s door. They’d been reminded of his strength. And no matter the outcome of his recent scans, I hoped people remembered that Mason wasn’t a victim. He was a fighter and he had so much left to give to this world.
As the crowds celebrated, a sudden weariness overcame me and I backed out of the doorway. It was time to go home. Today had been a difficult one, but I’d made incredible progress on my sculpture for one day and that was all I could ask for.
Mason had his win and I had mine. That counted for something.
I was halfway down the hallway when I heard my name being called. I froze, not sure I wanted to turn around. The exit wasn’t far away. If I really wanted to, I could sprint and make it there in time. But the sound of heels clicking in my direction forced me to face my fear. Mrs. Drew came up on me quickly, a warm smile on her face.
“Trina, I’ve been looking for you all afternoon,” she said, squeezing my shoulders. “We’ve got to talk about your presentation.”
I sighed. This was the conversation I’d been avoiding. I wasn’t used to failure. It was going to be painful to hear about how I’d bombed the presentation. But this afternoon, while I was welding pieces together, I’d decided that that was no longer going to be in my profile. The new Trina accepted failure and kept on rolling. It was a part of being human.
“Thank you for being on my panel for Research Methods,” I said, giving her a grateful smile. “I didn’t expect it to go that way. I wish I could’ve given you a heads-up.”
“None of us expected that,” Mrs. Drew said with a laugh. She shook her head with an amazed expression. “Girl, you’re the kind of student every teacher dreams of. Your presentation was so honest and raw. Professor Garret was raving about it. She’s never had a student take this project so seriously. She loved your take on ethics in research.”
My mouth fell open and I stared at her wide-eyed. “Wait...what? What does that mean?”
“It means you aced your project!”
Joy burst inside me like a warm water balloon. I grasped her hands and bounced on my feet. “Are you serious? I passed?”
I’d been fully prepared for that F. I would’ve worn it on my heart as a badge of my growing up. But this A was a totally new lesson to add to the list. It was a reminder not to count myself out of the battle before the flag was raised. Life was incredibly unpredictable. I was starting to like it that way.
“You passed with flying colors, baby.” Mrs. Drew elbowed me playfully. “Got to say, I was fully prepared to be in my after-lunch coma during your presentation, but you woke me up with that declaration of love. Where is the lucky guy? Why isn’t he trailing behind you, counting his lucky stars?”
“Ha!” I swallowed down the slight lump in my throat as my joy dampened. “Let’s just say, he’s trailing behind another girl right now.”
Her eyes narrowed and her mouth turned down in sympathy.
“No, don’t worry about me,” I added. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I’ve got this. Thanks to you, my really difficult day just got better.”
Two out of three wasn’t bad. I aced my presentation. Finally got the nerve to talk to my parents about my future. If anything, it was a victory. If only my heart would stop seizing every time I thought about Mason.
“Well, I’m glad I could help a little bit,” Mrs. Drew said, giving my arm a last squeeze. “Have a good weekend, Trina. Go make some art. Revel in the temperate beauty of this world. You’ve got a soul worth sharing.”
I thanked her and continued on my way to the back parking lot where my Chevy was parked. My arms hugged my torso as I thought about her words. Today was really the first time I truly believed that I had something worth sharing. My art. My opinion. My truth. It felt good. It felt beautiful. And I knew that beauty would come out in the class sculpture.
And as I pushed through the doors to the parking lot, the noise of the celebrating crowds dulled behind me. The night was clear and crisp, the kind that made the tip of my nose freeze as I stared up in awe at the inky black sky and the handful of stars brave enough to weather the winter. The sight soothed the ache still throbbing beneath my left ribcage and caused hope to blossom in my heart.
Mrs. Drew was right. This world was so beautiful — even during the most painful of goodbyes. There was a sharpness, a clarity, to seeing it like this.