Mia walked to the line. No dribble. No deep breath. She just looked at the rim like it owed her something.
Coach Harris laughed, a short bark. “Mia, this isn’t a carnival game.” allie adams let me try
“Allie Adams… let me try.”
For three seconds, no one moved. Then the bench erupted. Coach Harris blinked twice, looked at his clipboard, then back at Mia, who was already jogging to the defensive end. Mia walked to the line
It was Mia Chen. The sophomore. The one who never started, never complained, never even asked for the ball. She sat at the end of the bench with her warm-up still zipped to her chin, her hair tucked under a headband, her sneakers unscuffed. Most people forgot she was on the roster. She just looked at the rim like it owed her something
After the game—a win, because Mia hit another two from the corner in the final thirty seconds—Allie caught up with her in the tunnel.
“Fine,” Allie said, tossing the ball underhand. It bounced once, then slapped into Mia’s palms. “Knock yourself out.”