Page 11 of Game On

“Miss Dale,” he says on a sigh. “I, personally, don’t care who your father is. I expect you to follow the same rules as all the other students.”

My face burns. I’ve never once in my entire life used the fact that my father is Timothy Dale to get anything. His insinuation makes my skin crawl. I step forward, my lips pulling back so I can tell him off, but instead, Dawn’s right there. “I’m sure Tessa just didn’t know.”

Fuck that, I want to scream.

“Consider this your warning, Miss Dale, only on the account that it’s your second day of school.”

Dawn tugs on my hand and starts toward the glass doors. I look back to give Mr. Holden one last glare, but instead, a coif of dark hair catches my eye. Alec Christopoulos is standing just outside the vice principal’s office. His lips pull apart in a slow smile, but then he looks away as Holden approaches him. The sight of the two shaking hands is the last thing I see of Rockport High that day.

Dawn and I head out toward my car. Once we’re inside, I mutter, “Fucking assholes.”

“Amen to that. They’ve really got a boner about messing with you. By the way, who the fuck’s your dad and why does Holden give a shit?”

I look over at her. She pulls her seatbelt around, messes with her hair, and then checks her reflection in the mirror on the other side of the sun visor. I’m still looking at her when she turns toward me. “You don’t know?”

“Ummm…” She smiles and looks off to the side. “No. Should I?”

I lean back in the seat, feeling small against the comfy cockpit seating. “My dad’s Timothy Dale.” When she doesn’t say anything, I look back over. She looks as confused as ever. “Timothy Dale,” I say again.

She bites her lower lip. “Sorry?”

I close my eyes. “He’s—”

“A professional basketball player? Yeah, I know,” she says, smacking me in the arm playfully. “Well, at least I do now. I had to look him up on Google during second period after I heard some douche say something about your mom trapping him with a baby at the height of his career. Did you know your dad built the Rockport High Basketball Court? It’s named after him.”

I laugh at her. “Of course, I know. I was fucking here when construction first started, and I was here during the ribbon-cutting ceremony, too.” And many more times after that.

“No wonder why the Ballers hate you.”

I take a deep breath and start the car. Backing out, I head toward town since it sounds like Dawn wants more gossip. “Come again? They hate me because my dad’s a basketball player?”

“No, you dipshit. They hate you because you threaten their masculinity or some other misogynistic shit.” I look over at her, not understanding what she’s saying, and then turn back toward the road.

She points toward the next left. “Let’s go to that ice cream place.”

The place isn’t nearly as far from the school as I want to be, but I figure what the hell. I put my blinker on and wait for traffic to clear.

“Tessa, The Rock Ballers are the it—” She actually uses air quotes. “—boys at school. Now, the daughter of a basketball great, who’s also really amazing at basketball, waltzes into their town. You disrupted the status quo, and they don’t like that. They want the attention on them.”

“Too bad,” I say. Inside, though, what Dawn says makes a lot of sense. I just thought they didn’t want me here because they don’t particularly like me. I knew they’d be pissed once they learned I was trying out for the team, but I didn’t expect all of this right now. My stomach settles with a resounding freefall. That only means it’s going to get much, much worse. You know that saying, It’s going to get worse before it gets better? I’m not sure this will even get better. Even if I make the team, I don’t know if they’ll accept me.

“You knew these guys before,” Dawn says as I pull into Scoops parking lot. Just beyond the little shack is the athletic fields, the dome of Timothy Dale Court rising above it all. “You must have known you’d get some sort of reaction from them.” Her eyes widen. “You must have huge lady balls, my friend. I’m liking you a lot more now.”

I laugh and then push my car door open. “Come on, let’s get some ice cream.” We order, and I pay while Dawn walks off to the last picnic table. As I walk toward her, I hear the crack of a baseball and then a smattering of applause from the crowd. “Shit. Is that Rockport?” I had no idea they were playing today.

Dawn turns toward me, eyes ablaze. “I have to see Alec in his baseball uniform. I need it, Tessa,” she says again after I give her a look.

“Let me get this straight, you want to ogle one of the guys tormenting me?”

She takes my hand and yanks me toward the fence, heading straight for the third base line bleachers. “It’s not really him doing it. It’s mostly Ryan.”

If she thinks Alec is a saint, she’s mistaken. “Sure, Ryan’s the ringleader, but—”

“I told you it didn’t matter. I don’t want to talk or hang out with him. I just want his dick in my—”

I push her to keep her mouth shut. We’re about to pass a mom with a young son who’s bent over at the waist to pick a flowery weed. “Jesus, Dawn. You have such a big mouth.”

She laughs heartily. “All the better to…” She makes a motion of her fist against her mouth, and then laughs so hard I think she’ll faint when my face turns fifty shades of red.

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