Malik was supposed to meet me here to watch me practice my three-pointers, but nope. I don’t see a man in a flannel anywhere near me. I mean, I don’t NEED him here, but it would’ve been nice to have some support. Just in case, I checked my phone to see if he texted me about not being able to make it. Lo and behold, I just got one about him getting caught up with family. Sounds like something he’d say. The guy has a big family, so I can’t blame him for skipping out on me this time. I guess I’ll shoot hoops without an audience to cheer me on. Man, this sucks. I do better with positive reinforcement.

Even though I was quietly grumbling to myself, I didn’t care that much. I didn’t want to practice on my own, but it can’t be helped. Three-pointers were my weakness, so I had to make sure to get it all down. Ball after ball I kept missing the hoop, much to my frustration. I usually don’t get angry, but I was getting irritated.

“Okay, if I don’t make this, I’m throwing myself off a cliff.”

Yeah, I didn’t make it. You know that thing that people do with balls in their hands when they’re frustrated? They throw it to the ground and watch it bounce into oblivion. That’s what I did. Something had to face my wrath, and unfortunately, it was the basketball in my hands. I turned my head and pouted, trying to calm myself while my ball ricocheted around the court. I didn’t turn back until I heard a THUNK followed by a verbal “OW” that caught my attention.

I snapped my head back to see what happened. OH GOD, I JUST HIT SOMEONE WITH THE BASKETBALL-. I was already in front of the stranger, checking to see if they were alright.

“I’M SO SORRY.” I frantically apologized before looking at them properly—… wait a minute.