Chris, The Student Athlete

Three minutes left. Chris looks at the clock, down by 8. This is where I shine, he thought to himself as he headed into the time out. He looked out to centre court, there she was Chris's girlfriend, Kylie, currently blonde and in a cheerleader uiniform but he knew deep down she was an alt girl with tattoos and a lust for life. They made eye contact, she gave him one of her warm but crazy smiles and continued with her routine.

At five foot eight, he wasn't exactly the prototype for a college basketball shooting guard. He knew it. His coaches knew it. Every opposing defender who'd ever looked down at him before a tip off certainly knew it. What Chris lacked in height, he made up for with a first step that left defenders reaching at empty air, a ridiculous shooting touch, and the sort of stubbornness that made him believe every shot was going in before the ball had even left his fingertips.

His shoulder length red hair was damp with sweat, copper strands sticking to his forehead and curling around his ears. Under the harsh arena lights, his freckles stood out across his cheeks. He'd never bothered growing facial hair; partly because he preferred the clean shaven look, mostly because he couldn't. He was built more like a soccer player, he favored cardio, leg and core work outs over upper body workouts. After all, shooting strength, came from the legs, and accuracy came from the core. At eighteen, he still had the youthful face of someone who occasionally got mistaken for a high schooler when he walked around campus.

Hunched over next to him in the time out. LMJ, LeMichael Jebron, if the name alone wasn't enough, he lived up to it. Six foot nine, broad shouldered, and built like someone had designed a basketball player from scratch with no regard for reasonable proportions, LeMichael was an absolute monster. His arms were thick, his chest filled out his jersey, and his legs looked as though they belonged to a heavyweight boxer. He moved with an ease that seemed downright unfair for a man his size, gliding across the hardwood with a fluidity that made defenders look as if they were running through mud.

And tonight, like most nights, he'd been unstoppable. Forty points, twelve rebounds, a number of blocks that left the opposition reconsidering their life choices at the rim.

LeMichael Jebron may have a 40 point, 12 rebound game, but it was time to show people why he was the Kobe to LMJs Shaq.

LeMichael caught Chris's eye and grinned.

"You ready, little man?"

Chris rolled his eyes. "You done padding your stats, big man?"

LMJ laughed, the sound booming over the noise of the crowd. "I've been carrying you all night."

Chris chuckled "And we're still down, don't worry, I'll take us to the promise land."

"Lets go get those eight points then." LMJ replied

Coming out of the time out, the coach spewing the same old stuff Chris and LMJ nodded at each other, a bond that's grown over the last 15 games and one that was going to grow over the next 4 years. Both of them had spoken about it, they might not win it all but before they graduate, they both want to win a National Championship.

Chris loved the guy, it was tough not to. Everyone did, really. LeMichael was the sort of person who could walk into a room full of strangers and leave with twenty new friends. He was funny without trying, confident without being obnoxious, and so comfortable in his own skin that Chris sometimes wondered whether LMJ had ever experienced a moment of self doubt in his entire life.

Probably not, Chris thought bitterly.

It wasn't that Chris hated being short. Well, not exactly. He hated the way people reacted to it. The coaches who'd overlooked him during recruitment. The opposing players who assumed he couldn't finish through contact. The casual jokes about his height, always delivered with a smile, as though that somehow made them less irritating.

And then there was LeMichael.

Standing beside LMJ made Chris feel smaller than his five foot eight frame already did. The difference was almost comical. LeMichael could rest an arm across Chris's shoulders without reaching up; Chris had to tilt his head back to meet his eyes. Their matching jerseys looked like they belonged to players from entirely different sports.

Chris envied him more than he cared to admit.

Not just the height, either. It was the whole package. The broad frame, the deep voice, the effortless masculinity. Hell, they shared a locker together and Chris knew that even his package was gifted. LeMichael seemed to have been handed every physical advantage Chris had ever wished for, and he'd somehow managed to become a genuinely good person on top of it all.

It was infuriating.

The referee handed the ball to Chris.

Enough thinking. He inbounds to their point guard, Derrick, and runs the path, LMJ sets the screen under the rim, he uses it to run through to the three, LMJ seals his player under the rim as Chris catches the pass from Derrick, Chris throws a fake to LMJ, a play they ran earlier his defender takes half a step back and SPLASH! Chris' quick release does it, now its a 5pt game.

Opponents come down, they hold the ball and take the possession slowly, take a long two and somehow get the rebound, for fucks sake, Chris thinks to himself hustling back to find a body, who the hell didn't box out. The opponents burn some more clock and take another shit shot, thank god for LMJ, he gets the board, outlets to Chris as he's running the transition lanes, as they're collapsing on Chris he does a hesi to shake one defender goes behind his back to split the defence, through the middle for the easy floater. Three point game Chris thinks to himself.

Another stop followed by a LMJ turn around dunk that got everyone in the crowd cheering and here we are now.

14 seconds left, ball in their hands, we initiate a press to try and get the steal, they break it and Derrick fouls to send them to the line with 6 seconds left. The opponent makes the first, remembering what Lebron did to gilbert Arenas, Chris takes a step forward and whispers to the shooter "if you miss this you know I'll send you home with the L", Chris was 5/5 from the three point line today, 3/5 from the midrange for a nice game 23 point game so far and he was feeling himself.

The opponent looks at Chris in disgust "Imma make this and the worlds gonna see you for the bitch you are."

Chris wasn't ready for a response, it stunned him for a second, the opponent shot and a clean swish. They're up three with 6 seconds left. LMJ grabs the ball out of the net and sends a quick long pass to Derrick, Chris is sprinting before he knows it, by far the fastest player on the court, he runs the wing, Derrick places the perfect bounce pass into the shooters pocket, Chris grabs it, rises in one motion and shoots to send the game into OT.