Allie Adams Let Me Try -

Second shot: Swish. Someone in the crowd whistled.

Allie glanced at the scoreboard. Down by four. Two minutes left. Her own hands felt heavy, foreign. She’d been gripping the ball too tight, thinking too hard about her father in the stands, about the college recruiter near the concession stand, about the ghost of her own reputation. allie adams let me try

Mia stopped, unzipping her warm-up for the first time all night. “Yeah?” Second shot: Swish

“Where’d that come from?”

Allie Adams stood frozen near the sideline. Her mouth opened, then closed. She felt something strange—not jealousy, not anger. Something sharper and sweeter. Relief. Down by four

Allie nodded slowly. Then she stuck out her hand. “Next practice. One-on-one. Let me try to guard you.”

“Let me try,” Mia said again, standing now. Not loud. Just steady. “Three shots. If I miss one, I sit down and never mention it again.”