But that day, he wasn't on the court. Amber scanned the grounds, wondering where he might be. Suddenly, Calvin appeared, jogging toward her from the direction of the snack shop, his hair damp with sweat and his steps hurried.
He stopped in front of her, catching his breath. "Hey," he said, startling her.
Amber's heart skipped a beat. Calvin was talking to her.
"Can you do me a favor?" he asked, holding out a black plastic bag.
Amber hesitated only for a moment before nodding eagerly. "Sure, anything."
"Great. Can you deliver this to the third stall on the left in the girls' restroom? It's for a girl named Iris. She needs it urgently."
The words hit her like a blow. The excitement she had felt seconds ago evaporated, replaced by a hollow ache. But Amber swallowed her feelings and took the bag.
"Thanks," Calvin said, flashing a brief smile before running off.
Amber had done as he asked, rushing to the restroom to deliver the bag to Iris, who looked up at her with teary gratitude. Even then, Iris had the same effect on people—a delicate vulnerability that made you want to protect her.
Years later, here Amber was again, running errands for Iris, this time in a storm.