2: Max the Skeptic

Max was convinced that there was a basketball-shaped cloud hanging over him. There was no other explanation as to why he was so sweaty and sad. Maybe sad wasn't the right word. He was expectedly dejected about not making it onto the team. Sure, tryouts weren't over, but he was so used to disappointment settling in that he didn't wait for any official news. Like the earth, his disappointment came in layers.

Crust: "Eh, I probably won't make it. No biggie."

Mantle: "Don't even bother with the high school jerseys. Your boy's going to the NBA!"

Outer Core: "God, Max, you haven't even won a game against Sam. No offense to him, but he's not that good. What makes you think you have what it takes to beat all the other somebodies?"

Inner Core: "I'm definitely going to make the team. It's just JV. How many other losers are trying out? Probably just freshmen, right?"

The last person he wanted to see was Jess, yet there she was, scribbling in a notebook just outside the gym's double doors. What was she doing here? "Jess?"

She put her notebook in her backpack and scrambled up to hug him. Max's body tensed. She was cool and all, but they certainly weren't close enough for her to just hug him willy-nilly. "How'd it go?"

Max was at a crossroads. He could let her in on his probably-obvious insecurities or he could just grin and lie. He shrugged. "Okay."

Jess frowned. "Just okay? What'd Coach make you do?"

"Just some drills and other stuff."

Her hand grazed his forearm. "Hey, chin up. You still have one more day to impress them. It's all about the attitude."

"No, Jess, it's all about the skill. Coach doesn't care if‒"

"Max, trust me. Just...have a little more confidence, okay? Things will work out."

Jess made it seem so easy. Just have confidence. Like you could run to Walmart and pick up a bottle for $3.49. Max suddenly asked, "Do you believe in fate?"

Jess' smile softened, and she answered without hesitation. "Yeah. Do you?"

"Well, no. There's no way there's some guy up there controlling everyone's lives."

Jess shook her head and bent down to swing her backpack over her shoulder. "That's different, Max. That's religion. This is fate. Everything happening for a reason. You don't believe in that?"

"You do?"

"I'll let you know. Can't say until I'm on my deathbed."

The corners of Max's mouth quirked. "That's morbid."

"But hey, if you don't believe in fate, that's good." Max furrowed his thick brows. Jess continued, "Getting on the team is entirely on you, and you like that, right? Not having to depend on other people?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Have faith in yourself, Max. I know you know you can do this."

"Thanks, Jess." Max adjusted his backpack. "Are you walking home?"

She shook her head. "No, I have my car here. Want a ride?"

"No, it's okay. My mom's gonna get me."

"All right. I'll see you later, okay?" Jess said before rounding the corner, out the double doors to the parking lot.

☁

Everyone at the lunch table could tell that Luther was more bitter than usual. If his freckles could shoot missiles, there would be war on Charlie Fitz, and at this rate, everything in between would be collateral damage. Few people knew why Luther was especially sensitive on December 3rd, but Max and Sam knew it to be Luther's Darkest Day, or LDD. No one had remembered to warn Jess to leave Luther unchallenged and unprovoked.

Jess the table to get Luther's attention. "What's wrong with you today? You haven't even gotten lunch yet."

"Nothing," Luther replied.

"Did something happen with Annie? What am I missing?"

Luther swung his body around and stared into Jess' brown-eyed soul. "My life doesn't revolve around Annie." He stood up to leave. "Don't talk to me."

Once he'd stalked out of the cafeteria, Jess glanced between Max and Sam. "Okay, what just happened?"

"LDD," Max said.

"Luther's Darkest Day," Sam said. "Every year, for as long as we've known him, December 3rd is just when he lashes out at the world."

"Like his personal purge," Jess said. "Anyone know why today in particular?"

Max didn't know if he was allowed to tell Jess about Luther's business. Luther wasn't one to just spread their personal business, none of them were, but he felt uneasy about keeping Jess in the dark, especially after what she'd just experienced. While it was nothing compared to his usual LDD snaps, Luther must've appeared so hostile compared to normal. Sam must've been going through the same debate because he stayed silent too.

Max's interactions with Luther's father were always brief, positive, and controlled. When Max first heard about Luther's home life, he was reluctant to believe that Mr. Sullivan was the violently unstable man Luther made him out to be. Despite Max wanting to tell his parents, he'd made Luther a promise that afternoon in Sam's treehouse. Luther's voice had been low. "Sullivan secrets are supposed to stay that way. Swear to me you won't tell anyone about this. Neither of you."

Sam broke the silence. "I'm not sure."

"You're his best friends," Jess said with accusing eyes. "You should know. His parents are divorced, right? That could be it."

"If he doesn't want to tell us, that's his business," Max said.

"Oh my god, wake up! This is a cry for help!"

"Jess, just leave it. Trust us," Sam said.

She looked apologetic. "I can't just leave it, Sam. That's just not who I am. If he doesn't want to tell me, fine. But someone should be with him in case something happens. And if that's not you two, then I guess I have to." Jess stood up and rolled a clementine to Sam. "Your move."

☁

Max felt sweaty and dizzy as Coach gathered everyone to announce the JV team. Coach Chen, unlike the football coach/assistant principal, still had a full head of hair. He loomed over everyone but Blake Watkins, who was the tallest, lankiest person Max knew. Blake was the first to be called. Then, "Ryan Carters, Rodney Andrews, Jack Smith, Jared Hernandez, Max Bishop, Tyson Adams..."

Max went still when he heard his name. He'd actually done something right as a Bishop for once, and he couldn't wait to go home and tell his parents. He burst out the gym doors, still red and sweaty, expecting to see Jess sitting outside like she'd done yesterday, only to be met with mild disappointment. It then occurred to him that she'd be with Luther, and maybe Sam.

Max let out a frustrated sigh and started jogging toward Luther's house. He knew he should've been with Luther, not at basketball tryouts. He didn't care about basketball, not really, not compared to his friend. He pushed himself to run faster and pressed his feet into the concrete. His backpack and duffel swung in the air, pelting his sides and back, and when he knew his weak, unconditioned body was at its breaking point, he bent over and panted heavily.

Basketball: the rise of Bishop, the deterioration of Max. 

Read my work on Inkitt (in the external link). I'll post chapters there a little earlier than on Wattpad.  https://inkitt.app.link/RA_Tiffany