January 4th
Running as fast as he could without slipping on the ice that was on the sidewalk, Aaron managed to reach the school doors in record time, being immediately greeted by the heat felt inside with the heating working at full power.
"Hellish cold," Aaron couldn't help but complain, taking off his beanie while heading immediately toward his locker, the sound of his boots echoing through the hallways.
With every step Aaron took, he felt the gaze of the students immediately settling on him, and a series of murmurs also began.
"It's him," a boy said by his locker to his group of friends, who immediately looked at Aaron. "He's bigger in person," one of the friends said, seeing Aaron closer and seeing that he was practically more than a head taller, even though [the boy] was a junior.
"What did you expect? There's a reason he plays basketball and you don't," another said, joking with the boy in question while comparing their heights with his hands, earning a resentful look from him.
"There he is," said a girl who was with her group of friends whispering in low voices while discreetly pointing in the direction where Aaron was. "He's cute," said one of her friends, looking more closely at Aaron's face along with his imposing height.
"I saw him first," said the girl who had pointed him out minutes before, throwing daggers with her eyes at her friend who had made that comment, as if she were going to take a piece of meat from her.
"How old are we, ten?" the girl said boldly, rolling her eyes at her friend and ignoring the look she was getting. "Besides, I bet he can't resist this," the girl said while running her hand over her body, stopping longer than necessary at her full chest.
And the girl had reason to be proud; she had dated athletes before and knew very well what they liked and how to make a good first impression.
Separating from her group of friends, she went immediately in Aaron's direction under the attentive gaze of her friends and the rest of the people in the hallway at that moment, who were preparing to see the show.
"Hi," the girl said, standing in front of Aaron, preventing him from continuing his way to his locker. "Hi?" he responded, puzzled, trying to remember if he knew the girl who had blocked his path.
"You're Aaron, right?" the girl asked quickly, trying to start a conversation with the boy in front of her, who simply nodded in response, causing an awkward silence to settle between them.
Laughing nervously, the girl decided to keep talking. "I'm Heather, by the way," the girl said, introducing herself as Heather. "Heather," Aaron repeated the name as if that would help him remember if he knew any Heather or had spoken with her previously.
"Do you need something?" Aaron asked this time in a kind tone, wanting to know what the girl was looking for or if she needed something.
"I just wanted to congratulate you on winning the tournament," Heather said, giving her brightest smile. "Thanks, it was a team effort," Aaron responded quickly. "Is that all?" he asked, wanting to know if she needed anything else.
Fiddling with a strand of her hair while giving him her most flirtatious look, Heather said, "I was wondering if I could see your MVP trophy, you know, I've never seen one." That was the next thing she said to him.
"That one is at my house, but if you want the championship trophy, it's in the school's trophy case," Aaron said, pointing toward the other corridor that led to the part of the school where the sports trophies won by the school were exhibited.
"But then, why don't we go to your house and you show me your MVP trophy?" Heather asked with a sensual voice. "You know, I could recommend you very well," placing her hand softly on Aaron's arm and squeezing it.
Feeling her touch, Aaron immediately freed his arm from her grasp. "Sorry, but no," he said without giving Heather a chance to speak, as he turned immediately, leaving her standing in the school hallway.
The next second, Heather could hear the murmurs of the people who had witnessed the whole scene.
"Did you see that?" a girl said to her friend, who was laughing under her breath. "She deserves it," her friend responded, her voice dripping with venom toward Heather.
She hated Heather with all her soul because her now ex-boyfriend had cheated on her with her, and [Heather] had spread rumors that the reason they had broken up was because she had cheated on him.
Seeing her now being rejected in front of everyone in the hallway was a great satisfaction for her, and she thanked God for being able to have been in the front row to witness everything. "Spread the rumor," she said to her friend, who gave her a smile while immediately starting to type on her phone.
Heather, clenching her fists, immediately returned to her group of friends, who were also laughing at what had happened. "Not a word about this," Heather roared through clenched teeth, giving each of her friends a threatening look.
"Come on, Heather," said one of her friends, still laughing regardless of the look Heather was giving her. "I heard he even rejected the most popular girl in his year, so don't feel so bad," was the comment she told her.
Remembering the comment she had heard about how Aaron supposedly dated Meghan and they broke up in less than a month, and according to what is said in the hallways, it was because the girl was very jealous and intense.
"Whatever, his loss," was the last thing Heather said, heading toward the opposite side Aaron had passed, being quickly followed by her group of friends.
Finally, Aaron reached his locker where he quickly stored his heavy coat along with his gloves and other winter gear while taking out the textbooks for his first class of the day.
"Well look, if it isn't the STOP-DWI Holiday Classic MVP," a voice said behind Aaron, who didn't have to turn to know who it was while rolling his eyes at that comment.
"What's up, Drew," Aaron said, closing his locker with a dull thud and turning toward his friend, who was giving him his widest smile.
"Nothing, nothing, but how's your MVP?" Drew asked, still messing with Aaron by calling him MVP.
At that, Aaron simply rolled his eyes more, knowing that Drew was only trying to mess with him; however, he was still debating if he should give him a hit to bring him to his senses.
"Could you drop that, please?" Aaron asked, not wanting to dwell on that matter anymore.
"Come on, it's fun," Drew said, brushing it off. "It's not every day you know someone who appears in the newspaper." While saying that, he took the backpack he was carrying on his back, opened one of the pockets, and rummaged through, pulling out a magazine.
The magazine itself was The New Yorker, which had been published a few weeks ago; on the cover, it talked about politics and more relevant topics.
Drew quickly set about flipping through the pages until he found the section he was looking for in "The Sporting Scene" section; in it, it talked about the season the Knicks were having so far.
But in one of the corners, in a tiny space that not many people would see unless they were looking for the news, it read: "The Christ the King High School Royals win the important STOP-DWI Holiday Classic tournament." Then came comments about the tournament until, in a paragraph near the end, the journalist wrote:
"The surprise and revelation of the tournament was 15-year-old Aaron Reed, who not only surprised all the spectators of the tournament but also won the tournament MVP. Is this the name of a future NBA player?" was the question written at the end.
"So, tell me what it feels like to be famous," Drew said, wanting to know what Aaron thought about having appeared in a major magazine read by hundreds, if not thousands, of people.
"It's just a small article; I don't think anyone has read it," Aaron downplayed it, as he hadn't even been interviewed nor had he found out that The New Yorker had done a note on a high school tournament.
"But this is only the beginning of the legend of Aaron Reed," Drew said, standing on his tiptoes to be able to wrap his arm around his friend's shoulders while with his other hand he pointed toward the horizon, as if he already saw Aaron's future.
Shaking off his friend, Aaron set out to walk toward his classroom, being quickly followed by Drew, who wouldn't stop talking.
"I only ask that you don't forget the poor when you're making millions in the NBA," Drew said, bringing his hand to his chest in a clear sign of drama.
"That's a long way off," Aaron responded. "And instead of thinking about that, you'd better worry about your training," he said seriously toward his friend, who deflated the moment he heard the word training.
"Relax a bit, man," Drew said meekly, trying to change the subject. "Besides, didn't you guys play a game on the 1st?" he asked, remembering that they had indeed played against the Neumann-Goretti Saints.
At that, a grimace formed on Aaron's face remembering that specific game; and the thing is, after three consecutive days of high-intensity games and only one day of rest on December 31st...
Coach Arbitello had therefore decided to give the entire starting lineup a well-deserved rest, not even putting them on the list of players who would play the game, giving the substitutes the opportunity to play.
73-65 was the final score of the game.
The Royals team had lost the game on their own court by a difference of only 8 points, ending their streak of consecutive victories.
Aaron, along with the rest of the players, although they hadn't been put on the list to play, were in the stands along with some students who had also gone to support the team in this match.
Shaking his head, Aaron decided to forget that defeat, focusing on the game they would have tomorrow against the St. Francis Terriers on their court in Fresh Meadows.
"That game doesn't matter," Aaron downplayed it. "Tomorrow we have another game," he responded while they were just passing by the trophy case where the trophies were exhibited.
Next to the trophy for winning the tournament was a photo of the entire team sitting on a bench in the school gym next to Coach Arbitello, who was wearing a suit and had a serious look on his face; underneath was an inscription that read:
"STOP-DWI Holiday Classic 2009 Champion Team" in capital letters and high relief.
"It's still a bit surreal, you know," Aaron said suddenly to Drew, who simply kept silent, giving him his moment.
"I just concentrate on my game and always doing my best, but now people in the hallways see me as if I were the second coming of Michael Jordan," Aaron said, laughing under his breath at the absurdity of his comment.
"And is that bad?" Drew asked, curious to know the answer.
At that, Aaron simply remained in silence, reflecting seriously, to then simply smile while shaking his head. "Not at all; it will simply generate more expectations for me, which I plan to meet," he said, just before the sound of the bell echoed through all the hallways of the high school, informing the students that classes were about to begin.
"Let's go, or we'll be late for Chemistry," Drew said quickly, adjusting the backpack on his shoulder while walking toward the classroom.
Giving one last look at the photo and the trophy, Aaron immediately headed toward the same hallway Drew was crossing, hoping the door was still open or he would face a reprimand from the teacher.
Authors thought's
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