Shy Annda is the quiet enigma of Martha Horton Elementary: a soft-spoken girl born in China who speaks so rarely that most kids only talk about her in whispers. On her first day, only Fussie Fran had the nerve to dub her “Shy,” and the name stuck like glue.
She keeps her asthma inhaler tucked deep in her pocket like contraband and turns scarlet at the tiniest praise; everything about her is the exact opposite of her loud, spring-loaded best friend Dewey. But the moment a basketball lands in her hands, the shy girl vanishes. Silky crossovers, buttery jumpers, impossible moves; she’s a walking highlight reel no one ever gets to see. Dewey still brings it up every time: “And you’re a girl?!” like he can’t quite believe the evidence of his own eyes.
With Dewey’s endless encouragement, Annda is learning to breathe a little easier, both with her lungs and her nerves. After the final bell, they own the empty courts, trading laughs and buckets in perfect secrecy. Now Dewey has one last impossible quest: convincing the best player nobody knows exists to finally step out of the shadows and play on a real team.
Good luck, Dew. You’re gonna need it.