The Profile Match

by Jill Williamson

  DATE AND TIME: Tuesday, November 20, 7:05 p.m.

  We won our first game of the season against North. Our second game was a local one against Pilot Point High School. By the time the JV girls, JV boys, and varsity girls had played, and we’d run out onto the court in our uniforms, the stands were packed full of people. We began warm-ups. I made a lay-up, rebounded, and passed to Chaz at the front of the line. As I jogged to the back, I looked for the PPH cheerleaders without it being obvious that I was looking for them.

  Seeing Grace was like a punch to the gut. I missed her so much. I just stood there in my warm-ups, staring at her until Chaz shoved me, and I moved forward in line. Jasmine saw this, elbowed Grace, then whispered in her ear. Grace glanced at me, looked guilty, then pranced away, nose in the air as if I wasn’t worth looking at.

  It made things easier, really, because it ticked me off. And when I was mad, I played better. I kept watching her from my side vision. Saw her talking to that bum Eli. I didn’t want to be jealous of a male cheerleader. I mean, come on. But there he was, hands all over my girlfriend.

  Former girlfriend.

  I still didn’t know what to call her. What a mess.

  “Spencer!”

  I turned at the sound of a girl’s voice and went into an instant daze. Brittany Holmes was here. With Meg Farland. Two actresses come to see me play? I snapped out of it and jogged over to them, hoping Grace would see.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “You look good in a uniform, NCAA,” Meg said, tracing my number 24 with her finger. “Really good.”

  I rubbed the back of my neck, suddenly embarrassed. Of course, I pretended otherwise. “I always look good,” I said.

  Meg chuckled. “So modest.”

  Brittany glanced past me, eyes roving the bleachers. “So where should we sit?”

  “Brittany!”

  A clatter on the bleachers behind us turned out to be Kip, all but tripping over himself and everyone else to reach the floor.

  Brittany smirked and set her hand on one hip, all attitude. “Kiplan Johnson, what are you doing here?”

  “I go to school with Spencer,” he said. “You ladies need a place to sit? I’ve got seats right behind the team.”

  Brittany glanced at Meg, then at me. I shrugged. “I’ll be in the game.” I left them there to figure it out and ran back onto the court. Alex tossed me a ball. I squared up on the baseline and shot from outside the three-point line.

  All net.

  I ran under the basket to get my ball and saw Grace standing with Jasmine, both staring past me to the bleachers where Kip was now seated with the actresses.

  I couldn’t help it. The look of helpless jealousy on her face made me exceedingly happy.

  I pushed her from my thoughts and set my mind on the game.

  It was always fairly close between us and PPH. They were a bigger school, but we were a better team. In the end, we beat them 68–61. Twenty-some of those points had been mine. After the game, Sue Adams from the Pilot Point Bulletin, my nemesis reporter, came up and asked me about colleges.

  “I’m considering several options,” I told her.

  “And your injury?”

  “My knee is in great shape,” I said. “I’m ready to play college ball. I just want to be sure I pick the right school.” Whichever school had mercy on my poor, battered soul. Hopefully Sue Adams would like my comeback story enough to print it. Any clippings I got would be emailed to recruiting coaches, especially those who’d asked about me or offered me once upon a time. Could be we’d get some renewed interest.

  When I came back from the shower and opened my locker, I saw on my phone that both Brittany and Meg had texted me.

  Brittany: we gotta go. u played great.

  Meg: Spencer, it was so great to watch you play. You’re really good. Your whole team is. But you are definitely the best! I’m sure by the end of the season, you’ll have your offer. Sorry we had to run. See you soon, I hope.