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    with no limits – chapter 5: soul food

    CHAPTER 5: SOUL FOOD

    WEDNESDAY (Same Day – Chapter 4)

    Basketball Gym @ Miriam High School

     

    It was only a few minutes past 2 in the afternoon and the indoors basketball gym was crammed with girls from the 9th to the 12th grade. Cliques weren’t that difficult to recognize – the entire school was filled with those, and the buzzing was made even louder after the Head of School, Ms. Maria Elena Gomez, gave her speech, which was basically the same, year after year.

     

    A lot of the females didn’t mind waiting for Coach Ackland to take center stage and welcome the rookies to their elite basketball team – just so they could keep off the afternoon classes. They went on with their giggling, chatting, but some of them appeared anxious to start the ceremony and the player introductions.

     

    It wasn’t a secret to anyone that lesbian relationships had become quite a trend around campus. The freshmen were the most enthusiastic ones – Shane McCutcheon’s name had long been flying around the whole of Los Angeles, and just about any girl, with or without homosexual or bisexual blood, was more than interested to lay their eyes on her. To some, Shane was considered just a myth – good looks, an even more resonant charm, affluent, what more can you ask for? This legend-talk about her came from the “unfortunate” ones that have not seen her yet; and that was the reason why catching a glimpse of her in person – a living proof – was more important than anything else. Seeing is believing, after all.

     

    It was getting a bit more humid inside the gym now – probably because of the whispering from end to end; it was a much lesser noise than the usual racket, but a commotion nonetheless.

     

    From the dugout came an older man – his hair was thinning and grey now, eyes low and deep in their sockets. He had a familiar, confident swagger in him even at the age of 50 or 60; a stern look on his face, almost sinister, was evident. The man walked toward the statistician’s table, got hold of the microphone, tested it a few times before clearing his throat to speak. His name was Greg Ackland, the basketball varsity team’s head coach.

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    Comments

    1. Thank Jesus, u aint puttin dat bitch wit my gurl, Shane . . . dat would not flow, mane . . . Good job though . . . Whelp, like alwayz from me, Baby-girl, LYLAS ;-p . . . Stank . . . Da one and only, chicka =D

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