Basketball Diaries Novels & Stories

He cleared his throat dramatically and started reading from his phone. “‘I can’t get enough of them. Caspian fucks me so deep I forget how to breathe. Luka’s tongue on my clit makes me shake until I can’t see straight. And Asher… God, when he takes me from behind I feel completely owned. Sometimes I wonder if I’m addicted to them. If I’m becoming someone I don’t even recognize.’” Oh my God, my diary, the words I’d poured out in the safety of my own room now broadcast for the entire school.

"Fine. But I'm not going to watch." He stood up and walked to the window, his back to Damian, his arms crossed over his chest. Damian slid the rubber band off and opened the diary. The first page was dated seven years ago. Sebastian's handwriting was smaller then, more careful, like he was still learning how to take up space on the page. "Saw him today. The junior tournament. Number 17. Rebels. He scored twice. I couldn't stop staring."

“Why basketball?” “What will you do if you fail?” Ezra always answered. “I won’t.” “Because it’s the only time my head shuts up.” “Because my dad needs something to believe in.” One day, Ezra slid a folded paper across the table. “What’s this?” Matteo asked. “A schedule. My games. In case you ever want to see one.” Matteo stared at it. “Why would I?” Ezra shrugged. “Because I’m going to be great.”

Now I'm naked, just standing there watching myself. My dick hangs soft, with my balls below. I run my hands over my chest, feeling the smooth scars from surgery. This is me, Jordan, a trans guy owning his body. I turn to the side, checking out my hips and thighs. It all feels right. I wanna feel everything, touch every part until I explode.

I was in the newsroom late, tapping out notes from the last game, when she leaned across her desk with that catlike smile of hers. “You’re glowing.” I blinked at her screen, pretending I hadn’t heard. “It’s the laptop light.” “Mm.” She didn’t look convinced. “Funny, because I don’t remember the laptop light making you smile like someone just sent you a love letter.” Heat crept up my neck. “I’m just… happy the article’s coming together.” Maya cocked her head, studying me like I was an unfinished draft. “Since when does basketball coverage make you hum?”

"Why?" "Because Carter’s mother is dead." The voice on the other side stopped instantly. A beat later, low, mocking laughter from a man echoed through the wood. The door slowly swung open on silent hinges. The hallway beyond was empty. But lying right on the threshold, slowly rolling into the room, was an old, scuffed basketball. The leather was worn dark, covered in faded markings. Written across the center in dark ink was my name. I took a step toward it. "Carter, don't touch it," Jace warned, his voice taut.

It wasn't him I was nervous about. It was the building… the feeling of being trapped. I released a slow breath. "Thanks." She bumped her shoulder lightly against mine. "Don't make it weird." I chuckled softly. We walked in silence for a while until we rounded the corner and found ourselves standing in front of several posters plastered across the walls. BASKETBALL FINALS. TOMORROW. 3:00 PM. My steps slowed automatically as my chest tightened. I pressed my lips together and forced myself to look away.

Nate stepped forward. “Who?” Elena looked at him. “The person who wrote it.” “Who is that?” “I don’t know.” She reached into her coat and pulled out another phone. She opened a page. Then she handed it to me. It was Sweet Rush. A new confession had been posted. The title made my blood run cold. THE GIRL WHO FORGOT. I opened it. The first line appeared. She thinks she survived three years ago. I couldn’t breathe. The next sentence appeared underneath.

The stupid boy had a passion for art and photography, yet he was being used by that bastard. If we truly were brothers separated from birth and we grew up together, we would have been two poles apart because I'd rather fry my brains out than write a diary. And I loved sports and business management. This one was quite the opposite. Bored and weary of flipping through the diary, I placed it back the same way I saw it and groaned at how dirty the sheets were. I sat on the bed, lost in thoughts when the door swung open.Craig Dimitri walked in, bathed in sweat. My heart began pounding with raw fear and hatred for the swine.

Lyon said "How did the book get here, if the writer lives in basinview?" "I have no idea, we’ve been reading this diary for almost an hour and all we got is river high academy is located at basinview, this is a waste of time" She said "Just skip some parts or maybe start reading from this page" he said as he flipped the pages She adjusted her sitting position as she crossed her leg and held the book with her right hand, she furrowed her eyebrows in deep concentration after the change of position.