The first day of tryouts. A new flock of butterflies gathers in my stomach and makes me uneasy with anticipation. I look around to see my more experienced counterparts making every shot, and my belly flips.
We all take to the court to warm up, but I can't shake the emotions that clutter my head and make me second guess the reason for me being here.
We start running, a task I can handle, and I feel myself climbing the invisible ladder that separates the junior varsity and varsity teams as I continuously beat most of the other girls.
By the end, I'm breathing heavily and my head is dizzy, but I don't care; I just hope they notice me. The coaches tell us that they will have the results for the teams tomorrow. They said they need 10 people, and I could be one of them.
The next school day is torture; all I want to do is go to practice to find out what all of my hard work has amounted to. By 3:30, I'm ready in the gym with my new Adidas shoes and cut T-shirt. As I sit there waiting to see if I made the cut, I feel a familiar knot forming inside of me.
The coaches sit us down to give us a talk. My hopes come crashing down as they tell us that they will not keep all of the new players that were just moved up. For us, our tryouts are extended for the rest of the week. For me, the misery is extended for the rest of the week, too.
At last the agony is over as Friday's practice comes to a close. The coaches call us over; it's the deciding moment. They said that they are for sure keeping one of us, and most likely two, but not all four. That leaves two of use to get moved back down to JV. But they still don't tell us who it is. They say to wait for Monday, and they will definitely know the results by then. So for now, more waiting.