Damn it, why did he have to be so good at flustering her? Thankfully she was so flushed there was no way his unexpected comment would make a difference on her face. He wouldn't know. "Don't patronize me," she told him, her patience short. Amber snatched the bottle, squeezed the top, and drew in water. It was like walking into sunlight after a year of night: god she was thirsty. Hadn't realized it until now. She'd taken the bottle mostly to mess with Eric, but now that the water was in her mouth, she couldn't stop chugging; only stopped when she needed air.
"Unhh," Amber breathed out, wiping her brow again. Passed the bottle back to Eric; it must've been half-empty by then. "One day," she declared, narrowing her eyes, "I am going to clean the floor with you." Tremors ran through her body from the exhaustion and the strange desire to push herself to do more, like run to the basket again. She had the ball, why not insist they play up to twenty-two points? But if she pressed on, mostly likely he'd beat her by more than half. She knew when to cut her losses. Her heart hammered away in her chest, showing no sign of slowing down, and everything seemed too sharp, too immediate.
Amber leaned to the side to gently place the ball on to the floor and retied her ponytail, which was perilously close to becoming undone. With her elbows up in the air as she rearranged her hair, she turned around, taking stock. The game that had stopped on her behalf had gone on, and fewer people were paying them any attention. But a couple were still darting glances her way. Amber winked at them and, leaving the ball behind-- Eric could keep it, all the good it'd do her now-- she sauntered to where she'd dropped her tank top, bending over to pick it up.
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"Unhh," Amber breathed out, wiping her brow again. Passed the bottle back to Eric; it must've been half-empty by then. "One day," she declared, narrowing her eyes, "I am going to clean the floor with you." Tremors ran through her body from the exhaustion and the strange desire to push herself to do more, like run to the basket again. She had the ball, why not insist they play up to twenty-two points? But if she pressed on, mostly likely he'd beat her by more than half. She knew when to cut her losses. Her heart hammered away in her chest, showing no sign of slowing down, and everything seemed too sharp, too immediate.
Amber leaned to the side to gently place the ball on to the floor and retied her ponytail, which was perilously close to becoming undone. With her elbows up in the air as she rearranged her hair, she turned around, taking stock. The game that had stopped on her behalf had gone on, and fewer people were paying them any attention. But a couple were still darting glances her way. Amber winked at them and, leaving the ball behind-- Eric could keep it, all the good it'd do her now-- she sauntered to where she'd dropped her tank top, bending over to pick it up.