Im A Baller Novels & Stories

the coach yells, pointing right at me. Before I can protest or say I don't know how to play, I feel myself getting dragged toward the center of the wood floor. I suck at basketball and I am never fast enough to keep up with these Alphas. The orange ball flies through the air with so much force my brain freezes. I stand there like a statue, staring at the ball heading straight for my face. Goddammit, It’s going to break my nose. Suddenly, a large hand swings in from the side and snatches the ball out of the air before slamming it toward the goal with a loud crash.

Today is one of my very frequent mental health days. A time I take to be with myself and avoid anything that could stress me. School especially. This time, I'm at the basketball court. I'm not playing, but rather running around and bouncing the ball. "That's hot." My body suffens so badly even the sweat doesn't roll down my skin. It's Ander. Even if he didn't say anything, the sweet scent of his perfume would've given him away. "What are you doing here?"

I should’ve done a lot of things differently. The gym smells like sweat and rubber and noise, the kind of place where everything is loud enough to drown out thought if you let it, and that’s what I try to do. I focus on the ball, the rhythm, the bounce against the floor, the scrape of shoes, the numbers being called, because if I stop, even for a second, I’ll see his hands again and I don’t trust what I’ll do with that. “Damian!” someone yells.

I lingered for a moment longer, gathering myself before stepping into the grand hall. The ball was in full swing, the air alive with music and chatter. My gaze sought out Kiara, and when I found her, my heart faltered. She wore a gown that shimmered like moonlight, her beauty captivating and undeniable. But it was evident she wasn't accustomed to such attire. Her steps were hesitant, almost awkward, as Ariel walked slightly behind her, her head bandaged from the recent incident. As I approached them, my fleeting happiness evaporated when I noticed Veryon behind her. His smug smirk soured the moment, and I clenched my fists at my sides, resisting the urge to confront him.

Caleb screamed then threw the ball. Half way into it, I started to enjoy myself, actually running with the ball now before it got stolen from me. They let me set up my camera stand-- all by myself, not like I had a problem with it, but I asked for Nelson and one glare from Cyrus was enough to answer. "Describe your playing style in three words," I sat on the bench, legs crossed as I interviewed them one by one. "Fast, strong and a little bit of aggression," Jamal listed.

"Shoot me," Kim muttered under her breath as she stared blankly at him addressing the students. Maybe she was hallucinating, she raised her finger to her skin and pinched herself hard in an attempt to snap out of her trance, but he was still standing right there in his glory, his plump pinky lips moving perfectly like it's being automated by a system or something. Never have she seen someone that complete before, he had the look of a fallen. angel. Kim could hear the other students gasping and gushing over his magnificence.

I beamed with matching salute. I did mention that the Valler House trains its members to be excellent and close to perfection in all fields right? Well, I was trained by a professional Volleyball player ever since I was 11 years old. I didn't particularly dislike the sport and with all that harsh training, I could say that I should be competing in an All-International game right now if I pursued Volleyball as my main career. But I didn't.

You are not the only one with moves Edward. Changing into tights and sleeveless shirt I entered the basketball court room. He was standing there, six feet three inches tall. Taller than all the guys in my group! Man I just love heighted guys. Probably that’s why I like basketball the most. You find tall players in the sport. He was standing there bouncing the orange ball and then shoot...it went straight inside the pole. “Paul!” He turned around, “There you are. I thought you were ditching me”

I’m undoubtedly another eligible candidate for the basketball varsity team, and I’m sure I’m going to be the best asset on their team, but I know what I want, and I prefer kicking balls rather than shooting them. “Man! That was so greedy of you," Greg cried in crushing defeat impulsively throwing the Ping-pong balls away. “No, I’m not that greedy man. I’m just gifted, and you aren’t,” I said avoiding further conversation with him and his gang as I suddenly grabbed the beer before deciding to start having the real fun tonight which is to find someone to bang and settling on a couch with a few girls gossiping. I snaked my arms into a random girl’s shoulder.

"This is couture. Ramon called in every favor he could to get it for me. Not that you'd understand anything about that." Her voice went sharp and brittle, like glass about to crack. "All you ever do is wave that musty old rag in my face like some kind of weapon. What else have you ever given me? I'm Mr. Green's principal dancer now! I'm about to blow up, and you're not going to hold me hostage with your pocket change from the past." The department head, Jack Shuttle, came scurrying out from backstage, drenched in sweat. Eager to shield his school's "rising star," he didn't bother with pleasantries and jabbed a finger toward the exit.