Author: Eutie Lornandez

*Scene background music: https://youtu.be/A4Rr4IhTKwQ (0:00 until 1:08)*

I spoke too soon, again.

I thought I had been careful enough to whack Nadine when no one was looking, but somehow word got out that the local Priss was dead… and I was the prime suspect. 

The cops came to the house this morning and cuffed me in front of Chuck. I couldn’t look at him as they escorted me to the car. I couldn’t look at my neighbors peering from their windows and snooping from their front lawns. 

I was tempted to fight and tell the police officer I didn’t do it, but I didn’t have the energy. So, into the car and behind bars I went. Even dead, Nadine won. But little does everyone back home know that I’m working on a project. A story, if you will. The truth. Let’s just say I’ve got some dirt on the coach, and I’m itching to dig it up. Am I turning into Nadine? Perhaps. Only time will tell.

I spoke too soon.

In the midst of celebration, someone behind me rushes down the stairs and onto the court. It’s a girl and she looks vaguely familiar. Wait, is that the team booster? Nadine? She turns around slowly, as if she were performing an act, and she’s holding something in her hand. Oh. My. God. Is that my f***ing check?! She must have gotten it from the coach’s office somehow.

She looks me dead in the eye with a smirk on her face before opening her big mouth. Don’t you dare, my stare replies. She makes the packed gym go instantly silent as she screams the one thing I was afraid of the whole night: the truth. 

“If only you actually had real talent and not mommy’s money, maybe then you would get to play all the time.” Game over. Fury curdles in the pit of my stomach and fumes up my throat—I almost thought smoke was going to come out of my ears. Look at her, the local Priss Princess nosying her way into yet another person’s business. My son’s business. MY business. And she thinks she’s just going to get away with that? Negative.

Despite my boiling anger, one look at Chuck shatters me into pieces. He looks so defeated. Confused. Embarrassed. No, I think. I never meant to hurt you, honey. I just wanted you to have your chance to play. But before I can tell him this, he storms out the gym doors and I quickly follow. The silent packed gym is suddenly eerie and gives me goosebumps. 

I chase Chuck out to the parking lot and he screams at me to leave him alone. I let him down. I let my son down. At that moment, as Chuck turns his back on me and begins walking home, I decide to seek revenge on that little priss if it’s the last thing I do.

***

*Scene background music: https://youtu.be/cpbbuaIA3Ds?t=229 (3:49 until end)*

I wait in an alley behind the back gymnasium doors and the sky starts to turn purple. Am I really about to do this? I ask myself. But the second I see Nadine walk out those doors, the fury returns and I reassure myself: Positive.

I let her gain some distance before I race toward her. She hears me behind her and tries to escape, but she doesn’t have enough time to make a run for it. I swing my purse in the air and whack her as hard as I can on the back of her head. She goes limp and falls to the sidewalk. Blood pools under her forehead and she doesn’t move. 

“Game over,” I say to the corpse as I walk away.

*Scene background music: https://youtu.be/gO4eF7oBZnE?t=124 (2:04 until end)*

As the boys wrap up warmup, the coach holds out his clipboard and starts reading off the names of starting players. I know deep down he’ll call Chuck’s name, but I can’t help but feel a tad bit nervous. With just seconds before the game starts and only one player left to take the court, the coach quickly glances my way—which is enough to make my heart stop—then nods his head at Chuck. His teammates and nearly everyone in the crowd gasp as they watch my son take his position on the court. He looks so happy to finally play, and I couldn’t be prouder to be his mom.

Then, to show everyone what he’s got, Chuck scores a three-pointer within the first minute of the game! See? Money can’t buy that, I smirk at the coach left in awe. Chuck finally has his chance to prove his spot on the team. I clap and cheer at every point he scores, which, I may add, is a lot for his first game.

Time flies by. The two teams are neck and neck, and the coach calls a timeout to draw their final play. The crowd dies down, then comes back to life when the players return to their positions. I bite my nails as the ball is passed to every player but Chuck before my son steals the ball mid-air and makes the winning shot!

“Unbelievable!” I hear multiple people scream in the crowd.

Chuck’s grin gets wider by the second, and his teammates smother him with high-fives and pats on the back. It was all worth it. This moment was exactly what Chuck needed.

*Scene background music: https://youtu.be/_jiEz7M8VSQ?t=195 (3:15 until end)*

It’s finally Chuck’s big game, and I’m so excited to watch him play. I got my hair styled to look extra nice before heading over to the high school. As I am driving, I can’t help but notice a weird pulling in my stomach. Is this guilt? No, of course not… well, maybe. Look, I know what I did was (slightly) wrong, but I had the best intentions. I was just looking out for my boy—any mother would have done the exact same thing if they had the means to. 

I quickly dismiss it and squint my eyes as I find a place to park. So many cars are already here, but there can’t be that many people who showed up to watch tonight, right? The pulling feeling soon returns in my core, and I bite my tongue as I beat another mom driving a minivan to claim a spot. It takes me a few seconds to realize that my knuckles are white from clutching the wheel so hard. Calm down, Karen. Take a deep breath.

I make my way to the gymnasium where I hear music blasting and conversations murmuring. And just as I feared, the gym is absolutely packed. Nearly everyone in town came out to watch the game. Normally, I’d be ecstatic about so many people coming to watch Chuck play, but my reputation will be tarnished if they all knew what I did. Maybe they won’t even notice, I try to reassure myself.

With buckled knees and my heartbeat pounding in my ears, I sit by the aisle a couple rows from the court. I remind myself that I’m his mother and cheerleader for life—so, let’s put on a show and get this thing over with.