Yet Another Court Drama

With lips pressed together in determination and a blush of effort across my nose, I tried shooting the ball on the deserted court. It missed the net.

I hiked my underpants out with both hands. Then scampering over I bent to pick up the ball, fumbled it, and caught it again. Timidly I backed off a bit and shot once more, from nearer this time.

Still I missed. I parked my hands on my hips, the picture of a boy who just couldn't get the hang of it. So how was it fair that a girl could?

I drew a deep breath. Maybe it was time to try something even more dreaded. Recovering the ball, I put my sneakered feet together and prepared myself. The thought of having to do this in an actual game of one-on-one so frightened me that even practicing made me scared, but I had to learn to get good at it or I'd always lose.

Quivering, I began to walk slowly. At the same time I tried to bounce the ball with one hand, pushing it not slapping it like I'd been told, and above all trying to make it look like I wasn't even trying. Some hope!

Because no boy had ever looked so scared. What was worse, this had always been a tantalizing skill for me and the ball just wouldn't do what I wanted. Sure enough, it skittered from my fingertips in no time and got away. Uhh! I flicked my hair irritably, as if my fringe was what was annoying me so bad.

Scampering after the ball again, I stooped and scooped it up. A girl was practicing on her own on the court opposite mine. Disconsolately I stood, holding the ball, and watched her for a bit. She was fast. Fair hair streaking out behind her, and she never put a foot or hand wrong as she bounced the ball. How I envied her! It stung me deeply that a girl could do that better than I ever would.

She sped for the net but suddenly slowed and walked, teasing imaginary boys, daring them to take the ball and switching it to her other side when they tried. Was she showing off because she knew I was watching, and had seen I wasn't able to get that right? I fidgeted, more jealous than ever.

The girl had clearly booked her court for just one hour, the same as me, because we finished practice at the same time. Afterwards she was beating court-dust from the back of her white underwear while I was slumped in a seat, trying to wind down but still smouldering at her.

Finally she stopped and straightened up, so her pleated mini-gym skirt slipped down again to more or less cover her butt. Only then she seemed to notice I was there. She gave me a grin as cheesy as her knickers, and my heart fluttered.

"Wearing white ones not a great idea, when it's as dusty as this!" said the girl.

This made me squirm. "You're really good," I admitted with great reluctance. In fact, although embarrassed to admit it, I could maybe pick up some tips from this girl! "Could we play?" I asked shyly.

"From watching you practice I don't think you're quite at my level yet," the girl declared. Colour mounted to my cheeks.

"Don't start talking like a gym teacher, not after watching me the whole time and giggling at how I couldn't get it right!" I yelled at her. "I've had enough of stuck-up show-off girls like you, flaunting your knickers like that!"

"Don't be a bad-tempered little boy," she scolded me. "It's not my fault if I'm on Advanced Grade and you're still Beginners."

This made me feel exactly like the petulant little boy she'd described. I snatched up my ball and made to stomp off, but next second - swish! - the thing had vanished from my fingertips.

And the girl was holding it, demurely.

I gaped at her. How had she done that? It was almost as if by magic. I knew she was good at this game, but I'd barely even seen her move!

She proceeded to bounce it, with perfect balance and ease. Sping, sping! It was a maddening sound, inviting, like a dare. Carefully I timed the slow bounces, heart beating hard. Then I shot out a clumsy hand, only for her to whip the ball away. Suddenly she was holding it over her head. She was taller than me, but I was so infuriated I couldn't resist.

I jumped. My straining fingers drew nowhere near, and I blushed helplessly as I came back down again.

Then held the ball right under my nose!

"Don't tease me!" I gasped, absolutely incensed.

I couldn't resist and made a snatch for it, only for her to move it out of reach again, as I'd known all along she would. I began to cry.

"Please, I can't go home without it," I begged the girl, sniffling. She didn't look like she felt at all sorry for me, even though she'd teased me until I cried. She just held the ball there in front of me again, all innocence. Furiously I dashed the tears away and made another grab. Right away the girl moved the ball behind her.

She poked one toe and then proceeded to bounce the ball, without looking at it or even me. I could see it through the gap between her legs.

Nothing could have driven me so up the wall as to be shown the thing I so badly needed, while that girl stood between me and it the whole time! The provocative way she was bouncing the ball just by her butt was too much. I pictured the little fingers I couldn't see, deftly flicking the ball up and down, and it made me boil over.

I started forward and tried to blunder around her, but she just turned so she stayed facing me as I ran. All the while she still bounced the ball up and down. Flustered I tried to scamper in the opposite direction, but it was as if she could anticipate my every move! No matter where I skidded to a halt, she was always between me and the ball.

"You know I can't get it back off you," I pleaded, as that was the only thing left to do. "Stop being so horrid!"

At long last she passed the ball back to me, hard.

"Then stop saying inappropriate things about my knickers," she replied primly.