"But they’ve got Louis down low. Man's a brick wall."

"Yeah, which is why they aren't expecting it. I think you can get two or three good drives off him before they adjust and then start looking to Z and Malone. Don't need it to work all night, just to rattle them and gain some momentum."

Florida Gulf is a fifteen seed - nobody expected them to give us trouble tonight. Wes is right, if we get some momentum and throw them off, they'll likely crumble.

"Alright. Far be it for me to go against your years of coaching experience."

Relief smooths out his features. “Alright then. Let’s have a game.”

Yeah, let’s have a game.

38

JOEL

The bus to the airport is quiet. We pulled out the win, but it was a wakeup call to how quickly the season could end. Even if by some miracle we make it back here next year, I know it won’t be the same without Z. He’s made me work smarter and push harder. Playing with a guy of his talent makes us all look better because we strive to be better.

Wes nudges me as I’m about to close my eyes. "Nice job out there."

"Yeah, you too. I know I give you shit about coaching, but you've yet to lead us wrong. And you didn't even have to give the heart pep talk."

"Didn't have to, someone else beat me to it."

Katrina.

Wes and I almost always sit next to each other on bus rides. Wes would never admit it, but I think he likes how I don’t sit and brood like him or Z. I’ve never had a problem speaking my mind, getting things off my chest. But tonight, I’m lost in my head and he seems to sense that.

"So, she's your lucky charm, huh?"

Fucker read the text.

As if reading my thoughts, he says, "Had to make sure it wasn't going to mess with your head. I like the chick, but not enough to gamble a national championship on her words of wisdom."

"Yeah, I guess she is.”

“You know what your problem is?” Wes angles his body toward me, and I groan. Just what I was hoping for, a critical review of my shitty performance.

“What’s that?” I ask dryly, only humoring him because I know the fastest way forward is not resisting.

“You think the fadeaway is your only move. It's not."

“Fine, I’ll bite. What the hell does that mean?”

“It means you’re one of the best all-around ball players I know. You don’t have to stick with your signature moves. Try new things, take risks. You were amazing tonight.”

“Thanks, man.”

“While I’m doling out the advice, I feel compelled to say that I think you could do the same off the court.”

Ah, there it is. I knew this pep talk was going to lend itself to a personal intervention.

“You’ve seemed happy this past month. I didn’t really realize it until you weren’t. I mean you’ve always been carefree and the life of the party, but since Katrina, you’ve just seemed… happy. Fuck, I don’t know how to explain it. I’m sorry if I wasn’t supportive in the beginning. I was wrong.”