Leticia dribbles the orange handball against the gym wall. Thump, thump, thump. The sound echoes loudly in the empty room.
She aims for the high shelf where the trophies sit. Whoosh — the ball bounces off her knee and hits the floor with a sad squeak.
Leticia picks up the ball and wipes it on her shorts. She takes a deep breath and throws again. This time, the ball rolls under a chair.
She crawls after it, pushing aside a stack of old mats. Her fingers brush the leather. A tiny pebble is stuck to the surface.
Leticia steps onto the court lines marked in white tape. She mimics a famous player’s pose from a poster on the wall.
She throws the ball hard toward an imaginary goal. It hits the backboard and ricochets straight into her open hands.
Leticia smiles and holds the ball close to her chest. The gym feels like her own personal stadium. She whispers, 'I am ready.'
She starts running drills around the cones. One step, two steps, turn. The rhythm matches her heartbeat.