We had been on the basketball court for nearly forty-five minutes. There was Allie (my friend), me, and another group of ( extremely annoying ) teenagers that contained two males and one overly dramatic female. One of the bothersome guys tried to impress his female friend by hitting the ball hard and missed. The ball soared over to where Allie and I were standing.
The group of kids started to giggle. Why did they think is was okay to laugh at me getting hurt? I really don’t know. When I saw the shadow of the ball I wanted to move but I couldn’t move my feet. I felt stuck. I tried my hardest to not stare down the main red headed girl laughing, while also trying not to look mad, even though I am 99% sure that they noticed. One girl with bright red hair said “I’m sorry.” Although her words made sense, her tone made it sound like she really wasn’t sorry and actually thought it was funny.
Most of the time I don’t really care if someone notices if I get hit with a ball or bumped. But for some reason this time was different. I suddenly felt so self conscious of every shot I made. Maybe it was because I wanted to look good in front of my friend Allie. It might have also been because it seemed like the guys in the group were watching me closely. I don’t know what it was but I hated the feeling.
Earlier that evening, Allie, my mom, dad, sister and I went out to dinner at the Morris Mountain Grill. Every summer my family goes to Smugglers Notch Resort in Vermont and our favorite place to eat is at this restaurant. They have the best food in the whole resort. In the main dining area they have long rectangular tables in one section and square shaped ones in the bar room, which is also part of the restaurant. It was around the time of the 4th of July that we came this year. Usually the restaurant is crowded with a lot of people and screeching kids but, that night it was surprisingly quiet. Once a week the restaurant has a magician come and entertain the customers. When the magician came to our table he made a grape colored marble show up by blowing into a bubble wand. It was something we had never seen before!
After dinner Allie and I walked over to the blue outdoor basketball court to escape the rest of the family, and to get some fresh mountain air. The mountains always seem to have the cleanest and crisp air.
“Allie… do you recognize that redhead from earlier, or is it just me?” The girl was tall and was as pale as a ghost. She had freckles on her nose and cheeks that went well with her strawberry colored hair. She also wore white as sunglasses, but they did not go well with her smeared pink lip gloss. We didn’t want to ask her what her name was so we just referred to her as “The Red Head.” I tried to not to stare but it’s very hard not to when someone is wearing such a crazy outfit. Why was she so over dressed? She was wearing a silver sparkly crop top with black shorts and very old looking flip flops. I didn’t see why she was so dressed up. But then it hit me. Ding! Maybe she was hoping to meet a guy that she liked.
“Ya, she was the girl we saw at the pool earlier” Allie said. Earlier that day we had gone to Court Side Pool which is one of the thousand pools at the resort. Court Side has one large size pool, a yellow slide, and two hot tubs. We saw the “Red Head” in the hot tub with her brother. She seemed over dressed then too in a white sparkly bathing suit. She didn’t want to get out of the hot tub so she told her brother she would “pay him a thousand dollars to get her a towel.” Lazy. Why would she waste money on that? Where did she get all of that money?
Allie and I were minding our own business just shooting hoops. We might have been eavesdropping but she was practically yelling at her brother.
“It’s about time. I’ve been waiting for like an hour now.”
“Sorry. I was busy.” The boy replied tossing the towel to her. I couldn’t understand the problem since she could have gotten up herself if she was so desperate. I hated it when my sister acted like my mother so I felt sympathetic for the boy.
“With what… It’s not like you have anything to do.” Why was she so mean to him? It’s not just what she said that I thought was mean but the way she said it. The tone of a person’s voice says a lot. Despite what the person says you can really tell what they mean by the way they say it.
We attempted to shoot the large orange ball into the net. Most of the time I would throw the ball too hard and it would hit the backboard or I would throw it too lightly and it would just hit the pole that keeps the basket ball hoop up.
“Heads up!” I shouted. I had attempted ( key word attempted) to shoot the basketball at the hoop and as per usual I hit the backboard. I wondered if there was a trick to make the basketball go in. When I saw the ball hit the backboard I looked at Allie and we both started to laugh. Next thing I knew my ball had rolled over to the other group. I hadn’t noticed until then that another older guy probably a year or two older than the girl had joined her and her brother. The other guy was wearing a blue faded top, short khakis, and leather flip flops. I wondered if the guy was going on a date with the “Redhead” and if he was he was way underdressed compared to her. He might have been just her other brother. I don’t know. We referred to him as Blue Boy because we didn’t know his name. He grabbed my runaway ball and handed it to me.
“Here you go.” His voice was somewhat raspy and low which took me by surprise although his tone was very kind. At that moment when I saw his face I recognized it. I was trying to think of where I recognized it from then… Click. He was the guy that had gotten into the pool when Allie and I were there and splashed me in the face. He had said he was sorry and knew we were annoyed. Since he was near me again I sort of wondered if he was flirting with one of us.
“Haha… um… thanks.” Swiftly I grabbed the ball and ran back to Allie. I was so embarrassed.
“Ya ya, very funny Allie.” A few minutes passed and the next thing I saw was a shadow of a orange ball soaring in the air heading toward us. At that same moment I could smell the faint aroma of food cooking at the Morris Mountain Grill which made me feel sick because of the enormous dinner I just ate. Then. Thump!
“Ouch.” I screeched.
“Hahahahahahaha” the other group laughed and they almost sounded like hyenas. Allie walked over to the Blue Boy’s ball and kicked it toward the parking lot.
“Really” the girl said in a snotty tone, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. I wanted to roll my eyes right back at her but I didn’t want to start a fight. Allie gave her a big blinding smile. The Blue Boy was trying to not laugh but failed miserably. Meanwhile, I could feel the lump starting to form on my head. While eavesdropping we heard the girl make a bet with her brother.
“I bet you I could make the shot from here.” She was standing at the three point arc line. I was afraid of her missing the hoop and that I would get hit in the head again if she missed.
“Go for it. If you don’t make it I don’t owe you any money.”
“Fine!” the red headed girl said confidently. I was surprised by her actions because she could have made a lot of money off of her little brother. Why would she do that? “Ha-ha” the redhead grunted as she threw the ball. Bong! The ball hit the backboard and went on the rim and hit the backboard and bounced off and slowly rolled toward them past us. We just watched the ball roll along. I wanted to laugh but I stopped myself. Just as she was walking by returning from getting her runaway ball I cleared my throat.
“Excuse me?” She said looking for trouble. I thought “What is her problem? What did we do to her?”
“We didn’t say anything to you” Allie said in a bit of a sassy tone. I wanted to say something but I just couldn’t think of what to say that was reasonable. “I am not leaving until they do” Allie insisted.
“Okay.” We spent at least a half hour stalling acting like we had something to do.
“Can we go now? I am cold and it’s getting dark. I can’t even see the basketball hoop.”
“Fine “ Allie groaned.
Before that night I had never realized how tone can really make a big difference in what you say. For instance is you say “I’m fine” in an angry voice it really shows you are not fine. To this day I recognize the tone in which people use and how much it can change the meaning.