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[LYourLocalAutist]

There were times to sit down and frown and beat himself the up at how he'd let his social life end up like this and then there were times to play. The following few seconds were the latter.

Manuel's eyes were furrowed in focus as he surged forward with determination. He already knew the exact move he'd use to end this, steps before he even began to make it. On a good groove. Tension so high. Deep breath in and dribble. He immediately began to swerve off to the side slightly, though still maintaining forward momentum. He intended to get his opponent moving towards the rim of the goal. In that short meantime, get that shuffle up: can't well set something up without a ball in hand.

[Dr Adjective]

Manuel certainly didn’t stay tilted for long, and his opponent likewise locked in. She kept her stance lighter this time, looser. They’d both succeeded before with lightning-fast, ankle-shattering misdirections, and this time Heather intended to be ready for it. No getting up uncomfortably close and leaving room for a quick dash aside.

So, Heather stayed back a pace or two, made her body and arms cover - or threaten to cover - as much of the court as physically possible.

As Manuel veered off towards the sideline, Heather mirrored, biding her time. He’d been ready for the lunge, maybe he wouldn’t expect her to try and block the shot this time rather than attempting to prevent it outright.