Page 134 of Ruthless Court
“I don’t.”
“You do when you’re frustrated.”
Her certainty irritates me more than the criticism.
“What does frustration have to do with footwork?”
“Everything. You rush after a missed call. The next possession becomes personal.”
I stare at her.
She doesn’t blink.
“You decide you’re reaching the rim,” she continues, “then stop reading what’s in front of you. The defense takes away your first option, and instead of trusting the play, you fight the trap.”
Coach has told me I force possessions.
No one connected it to the missed calls.
Hannah rewinds three clips. Each begins after I argue with an official or take a hard hit.
My stomach tightens.
“How did you see that?”
“You repeat yourself.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
“It’s enough.”
“Hannah.”
She reaches for her Twizzlers.
I catch the bag first.
Her eyes flash.
“Give those back.”
“Tell me where you learned basketball.”
“No.”
“Someone taught you.”
“That isn’t a question.”
“Your father?”
The reaction is small.
A tightening around her mouth. Her fingers close harder around the candy bag.
“You need to stop digging.”
“I asked one question.”
