‘… and IT’S A GOA—— WAIT- OH MY, ARE YOU GUYS SEEING THIS?! CHOI INTERCEPTS THE REBOUND AND CHARGES THROUGH TO CANADA’S END OF THE COURT! WILL SHE BE 86TH TIME LUCKY TONIGHT?’ Tim O’Harrets, Canada’s favourite commentator announces through the speakers. Now, I’m usually pretty good at blocking out the loud voices of celebrated basketball veterans narrating the game, but upon hearing my previous goals being referred to as ‘lucky’, my calm demeanour evaporates.

I stop dribbling the ball, halting the match and stare directly into the commentator’s box, gifting a death glare. Tim visibly freezes and rephrases in a more accurate manner, ‘…[gulp] I mean, will all those LOOONG hours of hard training and skill reward Ahri Choi and Canada tonight?’ That’s better Tim.

Satisfied, I proceed to dribble the ball to the three pointer line and see the timer indicating less than 10 seconds remaining; the scoreboard reading Canada: 94 to South Korea: 96. The crowd is silent, sitting on the edges of their seats as I dribble the ball to sync to the rhythm of my heart beat. I can hear my team encouraging me, anxiously anticipating the next few seconds. My eyes search around the court for one particular individual though, and I see her out of the corner of my eye.  Wearing the South Korean jersey, she mouths, ‘Loser.’ I raise the dancing ball from between my legs to my chin, and release it from my sturdy grip, not daring to break her gaze. The buzzer times out moments after, and judging by the instant roar from the Canadian crowd and that scowl that forms on her face, I know we’ve won.  

Beads of sweat drip down as I sign posters displaying our porcupine team mascot. Canada’s male basketball team has the black bear, but our porcupine is definitely the more lethal force to be reckoned with. It’s come to be my spirit animal in a way and I’m lowkey jealous how they use their sharp quills to protect against stupid, backstabbing idiots. As if right on cue, I hear a familiar snicker and see Hana, the girl who was involved in the stare-off right before the winning goal, standing  in front of me with her arms on her hips.

‘Congrats Ahri,’ she begins in an exaggerated high pitched voice. I purse my lips and ignore her, signing the posters held by outstretched hands of our supporters.  ‘I’ve got to hand it to you, you’ve done a decent job making sure Canada doesn’t crap since I left the team.’ People are now staring at me as I continue to ignore her ‘praise’ however her icy glare literally gives me chills and forms goosebumps on my back, her tone indicating she is anything but sincere. I tell the crowd standing around to give me a moment as I slowly walk up to her. ‘Thanks so much Hana. It’s funny how well a team can play when we take out the trash,’ I reply calmly. Harsh, I know, and to the average bystander, totally unwarranted, however,  judging from her smirk, this is exactly what she wants. I tell myself to walk back before anything else can be said to endanger our team’s reputation of being respectful, polite sportswomen. Let it go Ahri, she’s not worth the energy anymore. ‘Til next time Hana,’ I mutter before I start power walking back to the group. Not giving up, she shouts, ‘Hey Ahri, Josh says hi!!’ Immediately, I halt mid-stride and feel my palms getting sweaty. A million thoughts explode into existence. Josh? He’s in Canada? Since when? Why is he here? How the hell does Hana, who lives in South Korea, know Josh is in town? The questions keep coming and I glance back at her. When I look at her this time, I no longer see the slender girl with perfect proportions and sleek, platinum blond hair. Instead, memory of the night that took place 2 years cloud my vision. That night when I decided to surprise Josh for his 17th birthday. That night when his door was unlocked and I recognised the sound of my best friend’s and boyfriend’s laughter coming from his bedroom. That night when stupidly I didn’t even stop for a second to think anything of it, and I excitedly entered his room, ready to bear hug my two favourite people in the world. That night when I saw a half Hana and shirtless Josh in bed together. That night when a guilty Josh told me he never liked me and only went out with me because he felt pity. That night Hana rolled her eyes and mocked my pleas to understand why they- why she- would do such a thing. That night when I learnt how easily trust is shattered. That night when I decided friendship and love were things I’d be better off without.

During my trip down memory lane, I don’t notice that Hana is standing right in front of me, mere inches between us. She’s in the middle of muttering something and I only catch the end ‘... so to be honest quite surprised you’re still here’

‘Sorry, where else would I be?’ I ask genuinely confused, snapping out it to focus on the present.

‘Oh don’t play dumb. Like mother, like daughter.’ I tense up. Nah uh, she did not go there. She did not just imply what I think she implied. ‘Hana,’ I say with a very steady voice even though I can feel my blood boiling. ‘I’m going to say this nicely once. Please shut the fk up and leave.’

‘Woah, little Ahri is getting mad. Why should I honey?’ She gives a short shove on my shoulders and continues, ‘It’s the 22nd, you do realise that.’

‘Stop Hana,’ I close my eyes, fully aware it is the 22nd of August and not wanting to hear what comes further. ‘No, that doesn’t ring a bell Ahri?’ Hana continues, as she pushes me again, relishing in the fact I look so weak right now.  I clench my fists and practise the breathing techniques my therapist harps on about. ‘Today marks the third year your precious mother killed herself to get away from such a disappointment of a daught-’ Hana doesn’t finish her sentence. She doesn’t finish because all self restraint and rationale has left my body as I begin clawing out her face like there is no tomorrow.

She screams, trying to shake me off. ‘AAAAH OWWW! WTF Ahri, get off me! You know I’m right, everybody in your life abandons you. Who would want to stay with someone like you?! When are you going to get it?’ I pull her hair even harder, my sole goal is to have her leave this basketball court with a bald scalp. In the distance, I hear my teammates running down and yelling at me to stop harassing our South Korean visitors. My coach orders them to pull me off of Hana and she gets helped by the rest of the Porcupines- some teammates they are pshht #betrayal. I try to resist the girls restraining me as I try to sneak in some hits upon her body but alas get carried away. While they drag me away, I quickly scout the area and luckily, I can see most of the stadium is empty. Looks like our little catfight went on longer than I thought as all the crowd has left, even the people I told to wait, and it’s just the players and sport officials.

The girls sit me down and examine my face, wearing disappointed and confused expressions, and hand me an icepack. Jenny, our vice captain starts the questioning. ‘Ahri, what the hell was that? You totally messed her up! How are we going to explain this to the Board?!’ My ears are delighted. Did she just say I messed her up? I look to admire my work and suss out the damage I’ve done to Ahri’s face and can’t help but be overjoyed when I see the scratches on her cheek. Her model agency is going to just love that. ‘She’ll be fine, it’s just a few scratches.’ I say light heartedly to the girls. ‘Besides, I hear scars are super popular in the fashion world right now. If she becomes besties with Kendall and Gigi next year, don’t say I didn’t call it.’ Jenny gives me an appalled look but I don’t care, I actually feel so much better that I lashed out. She puts her hand on my shoulder, and I can tell it’s going to be the beginning of yet another life lesson. ‘Ahri, I know something happened between you two and you’ve never been the same since. I get that she’s playing for South Korea now and that upsets you but players change teams all the time. She’s not the first to do it nor is she the last. Picking fights with her is not the way to move on. You need to-’ ‘AHRI CHOI, IN MY OFFICE NOW,’ my coach bellows and interrupts Jenny’s monologue. Suddenly dread washes over me as I see the coach saying goodbye on the phone and disappearing into his office. ‘Go Ahri, better to get this over and done with now,’ Jenny urges in a hushed tone. I take one final look at Hana who is getting bandages all over her face, and upon noticing my gaze, she flips me off. Yep, zero regrets.

...How wrong I was.