I'm gonna get to you (Bakeson)
Oct 3, 2015 9:53:43 GMT -5
Post by Jacob Tapper on Oct 3, 2015 9:53:43 GMT -5
Jake wasn't having the best of weeks. It started on Sunday with his piss-poor 'performance' with Jackson, which he had tried hard to convince himself was normal but about which he still felt somewhat insecure. Then on Monday he'd been late to math class, and he'd gotten scolded in front of everyone - though his homework had been good enough that, while he still had to do quite well on the next quiz, he was no longer in any immediate danger of being benched. Then on Tuesday some crazy chick had watched him showering while disguised as a boy (he hated Hammel sometimes...). Then on Wednesday the Coke he'd bought with his lunch sprayed all over, including on his shirt, so he'd had to run back to the dorms and wash it before it stained. Then on Thursday he'd had another fruitless conversation with his trainer, in which he'd tried to explain that he could see the future and his trainer again did not believe him. Some support system.
By the time Friday's game rolled around, he was fairly ready to just crawl into bed and sleep until the weekend was over. And that was still his plan when that week's game ended, Hammel losing by just a few points to a school a few towns over. Admittedly, Jake had lent less than 100% of his effort to the cause; his head just wasn't in it that day. He hadn't played terribly, but there were a few layups he shouldn't have missed and a few blocks he could have executed more precisely.
Practically collapsing on the same bench he'd managed to avoid spending the whole game on - thanks in no small part to Jackson's having done the first half of his homework for him - he groped through his gym bag for his water bottle, pouring some of it over his hair to cool him off, and taking a swig of what remained. The crowd was already dispersing, the loss having given them no need to stick around, and Jake was thankful for that. If he could just get through the rest of the afternoon, he'd be home free - literally.
By the time Friday's game rolled around, he was fairly ready to just crawl into bed and sleep until the weekend was over. And that was still his plan when that week's game ended, Hammel losing by just a few points to a school a few towns over. Admittedly, Jake had lent less than 100% of his effort to the cause; his head just wasn't in it that day. He hadn't played terribly, but there were a few layups he shouldn't have missed and a few blocks he could have executed more precisely.
Practically collapsing on the same bench he'd managed to avoid spending the whole game on - thanks in no small part to Jackson's having done the first half of his homework for him - he groped through his gym bag for his water bottle, pouring some of it over his hair to cool him off, and taking a swig of what remained. The crowd was already dispersing, the loss having given them no need to stick around, and Jake was thankful for that. If he could just get through the rest of the afternoon, he'd be home free - literally.