It was one of those summer days that only Boston knows. The sun was beating down on my tan skin. The humidity was getting to my already tired body. The air was heavy and it was pushing against me. Even without the sun, I was boiling. My movements felt sluggish and at that point, I would not have been surprised if a turtle overtook me. I could feel sweat drip down my face and into my mouth. A saline feeling came over it.
Three people stood between me and my goal. All I needed to do was elude them and pass to a wide-open Luke. His face reeked of expectation. The first up was Sydnie. She showed no expression whatsoever and she was gazing at me, but her mind was obviously elsewhere. My eyes stared back at her and with a quick motion, I crossed the ball over from my right to left hand. All of a sudden, she was three feet to the left of me. One down, two to go.

Next up was Dessie. She glanced down at the ball. I threaded the ball between my legs and blew right by her.
Finally, only Jean was in front of me. He was the toughest of the three. His eyes darted around, and he bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. I grasped the ball and forced it behind my back. I felt the ball on the tip of my fingers and heard it bounce on the heated cement. After I swapped the ball to my left hand, I snapped my wrist and got the orange-and-black sphere back to my right as the sun beat down on my hot skin. Feeling the adrenaline course through my veins, I flew past him, feet pounding on the ground, a rhythmic dance.

After juking half the team out, there was no one left. With a flick of the wrist, I shot the ball over to Luke, who stood near the hoop. The humidity caught up to us, but our opponents had not. With one graceful motion, the ball leaped up. It kissed the glass with the sound of perfection. It ricocheted off and it fell through the net with a “Swish!” And just like that, the game was over.

AUTHOR
Shulin R.
7th grade

Simmons Camp
Polished Piece

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