A Sharp Endless Need

by Marisa Crane

To us, basketball was a historical record of all the ways a body can move with and for another. What could be better than the strange and perverse pleasure of being known?

We wanted speed, reckless speed. The white-hot heat of a fast break pecking at our heels. The court opening up before us like a parted sea.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t threatened by her talent—it was easy to see she had something special—and it was because of that intimidation, which bordered on aggression, that I permitted myself to also want her. I couldn’t explain my desire to myself, let alone anyone else, but I wanted to be next to her, I wanted to crawl inside her so I could get to know her heart, her lungs, the curl of her ribs from the inside out. I was in trouble.