"Man, I don’t think I’ve worked this hard in awhile," Ashley said breathless.  She leaned over, putting her hands on her knees.

"Are you okay?"  I asked walking over to her.  I tried to rest my hand on her back as I leaned down to get a better look at her face.  But as soon as I touched her she froze up. I backed up a little bit to give her some more breathing room.

"Yeah, I just need a few moments," she replied, still trying to catch her breath.  "Then, I’ll finish up winning the game."

"Win? You look like you can barely finish it."

She tried to laugh but it was overtaken by a cough. "Can you pass me some water?"

I ran to grab the bottle of water she’d brought with her.  As soon as I handed it to her, she gulped it down.  At first I had thought this may be a ploy to get out of the game.  But now I could see her skin had grown paler than it had been before, and the already dark circles around her eyes were deepening.

"Are you sure you’re okay?" I asked again.  "We can finish this later.  You don’t have to kill yourself to try to win a game."

"No, no," she said tossing her bottle to the side of the court,  "Let’s finish this."

Instead of arguing the point, I relented and agreed to start the game again.  After all, I wasn’t her keeper or even her friend, and she was obviouly only persistant because of some stubborn desire to beat me.  But that wasn’t likely to happen, and I didn’t want to give up the chance to knock her down a peg or two.

"Fine."  I said, walking to the three point line for the umpteenth time to check the ball. 

Ashley tried to guard me as intensely as she had before, but her fatigue showed in the way she dragged her feet and how she raised her arms as if they were strapped with weights.  Whatever she was wrong with her had slowed her down.  It was a weakness I decided to take advantage of.

I held the ball at my side, bracing myself for my next move.  Ashley was close, so close I knew this would be easy.  I made sure Ashley saw my eyes on the goal as I lifted from my crouched position and jerked the ball up as if I was going to make a long distance jump shot.  Just as I predicted, Ashley fell for it.  She jumped up attempting to block a shot that was never  intended.  I knew she would fall for it partly because she was tired,  but mostly because if I had made the shot from behind the three point line,  I would have gotten two points and won the game.

As soon as I saw her jump, I darted past her driving for the basket.  The pump fake worked so well, I didn’t even hear her footsteps behind me as I went in for an easy layup.  I rewarded myself for such a perfect play, by doing my own little happy dance.  Ashley must have been stunned into silence, because all I could hear was the ball finishing up its last few bounces before coming to a stop under the goal.  But when I turned to boast, I realized why she had been so quiet.  She was laying in a heap on the floor at the top of the three point line.  In the exact same spot where she had fallen for my fake jump shot.