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required to dribble right into it, pull up, and look for an open teammate to pass to, while two hulking behemoths dressed like coaches waved their arms in

her face. An additional problem was that the only teammates she could pass to were short guards who were guarded by very tall forwards every step of the

way.

It made the situation difficult, to say the least.

The whistle blew, bringing Hodge back into the present, and she dribbled the ball toward the trap block, everything in her resisting the urge to exploit the

space between her two defenders that one could have driven an entire herd of elephants through, were one so inclined.

Pulling up as ordered, she attempted to ignore the hands waving in her face. Out of the corner of one eye, she spied a fast moving blur moving to her right.

In a move more instinctual than premeditated, she rifled a sharp blast toward the blur, all the while praying it was one of her own teammates.

Still blinded, she could only listen as the sounds of the ball being rapidly dribbled toward her goal reached her ears, followed by a long moment of silence,

and then a noise which could only be the ball swishing sweetly through the net.

Then more silence, dragging on until it was broken by the deep velvet voice of one Dylan Lambert. “And that, ladies, is how you break a full court press.”

Applause erupted, and Hodge stepped around her erstwhile defenders in time to catch both the smirk and the wink aimed her way. Helpless to do anything

but, she grinned back and mouthed a heartfelt “thank you” to her savior.

One eyebrow raised, and the ball was launched back to her, hitting her hands hard enough to sting. As she gathered it in, her grin broadened and her heart

felt lighter than it had in days.

*******

A slap on her back raised Hodge from her pleasant thoughts, and she turned to see Anya standing behind her, grinning like the cat who’d eaten the canary.

“Did you see the look on Caulley’s face when you made that pass? I thought she was about to birth an elephant!”

After checking over her shoulder to be see the woman in question deep in conversation with Dylan, Hodge allowed herself a broad grin and a laugh.

“Serves her right.”

“She’s a dragon lady alright,” Anya agreed, chuckling. “So tell me, how did you know Coach Lambert was going to be there to receive that rocket you call a

pass?”

“I didn’t. I saw a blur out of the corner of my eye and reacted.” Hodge laughed. “Then I prayed.”

“Somebody up there must like you, then.”

Hodge looked over at Dylan, who was deep in conversation with her assistant coach. Caulley was red-faced, her arms gesticulating wildly over some point

Dylan was making. After a moment, Dylan turned and walked off without so much as a backward glance. Hodge felt something in her belly shift. “I sure

hope so,” she murmured.

Caulley chose that moment to turn—still red-faced—in Cat’s direction, her eyes piercing and stormy. “Hodge, pack up your gear!” she yelled across the

court.

Cat’s heart stopped, then fluttered several times. “Coach?”

“You heard me. Pack up your gear. You’re outta here!”

Hodge clenched her jaw and turned on her heel toward the bench where her towel lay. The scrimmage had stopped and everyone was watching as Hodge

wiped her face with the towel before tossing it into the basket with the others. Two points. Fat lotta good that does me now.

“Everybody back to work.” Caulley called to the others. “Go on, or I’ll have you doing windsprints till you’re eighty!”

The rest of the rookies quickly snapped to, though several gave Hodge pitying looks as they did so.

Cat took a deep breath and mentally ordered herself not to cry until she was well away from everyone. She had known it could end at anytime, that nothing

in life was permanent. She had just hoped it would have taken a little longer.

Stupid, she whispered to herself as she crossed the court. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You should have known what was up three days ago, Cat. You obviously

don’t have what they’re looking for.

She didn’t even bother trying to read the look on Caulley’s face as she headed for the locker room, already knowing what she’d find there.

The locker room was empty and cold as she opened her locker and grabbed her duffel. The cursed tears escaped their confinement and rolled silently down

her cheeks as she fingered one of the uniform tops waiting so patiently for her to don it.

“Maybe next year, huh?” she whispered, causing more tears to fall.

With one last, long look, she quietly closed the locker, and trailed the tips of her fingers over the plate bearing her name which hung on the outside.

Using those same fingers to wipe away her tears, Cat turned and headed toward the door, only stopping when she pulled it open to find Dylan Lambert

standing on the other side, striking and a bit intimidating in a uniform Hodge was sure she herself would never get the opportunity to wear.

Tears sprung up in her eyes again, and she wiped them away with a savage swipe of her hand. “Sorry Coach,” she murmured, not able to meet the clear