Page 21 of Game On

She leaves after that. My mouth drops open, but I quickly force a thin, straight face. When I look over at Dawn, she’s smiling, too. I don’t doubt she heard everything. “Who the hell was that?” I ask, twisting in my seat to find the girl. I see her heading over to a table with a bunch of girls with the same look. When she sits down, she winks at me.

“Christie Fisher. She’s in my Psych class. Field hockey captain, I think. At least, that’s what I’ve gathered.”

It’s a good thing Dawn pays more attention than she pretends to. For a new girl, she’s got everyone pegged. Maybe that’s the result of the school she came from. Maybe she had to know who everyone was and what they were involved in.

Dawn leans forward. “I told you people would be sick of their shit.”

I don’t know if that’s it or not, but it’s clear someone else doesn’t like all the misogyny happening. Maybe I should start a girl power club where we sit around and listen to Spice Girls all the time.

My internal humor is short-lived. Dawn doesn’t care about any of that. She hurries me through lunch, telling me I have to meet my ‘secret admirer’. I blush at the label. Clearly, she believes in all that stuff more than I do. In my experience, guys play with you. It’s like a sport. Or, they carry you around like a trophy. That doesn’t stop my body from responding to her words though. It would be nice to have someone here who looked at me like they actually cared for me instead of the social outcast the Ballers want me to be.

Before I know it, I’m walking down the hall with very little prodding from Dawn. I want to see for myself what’s going on. My heart is thumping in my chest. It’s so loud I can feel it beat in my ears. When I get to the stairwell, there’s no one there yet. I’m a little early, but it’s probably not even that. Maybe the guy won’t even show up. I go to the window and rise to my tiptoes to see through the glass. There’s a great view of the sports fields outside. The football field will be rocking tomorrow. Homecoming is the only time anyone gives a shit about that sport in this town. My dad goes to the game because they celebrate all alumni there. He likes to preen, but he actually really cares about this school. He cares about the students that go to this school and others, which is why he started the basketball camp.

A presence looms behind me. I try to turn, but a body presses against me from behind, two hands enclosing me to dig into the windowsill. “Tessa Dale,” the figure hisses.

I know that voice. I know this body. At the same time I freeze, my body heats in response. I’ve always been a sucker when it comes to him.

“You’re so desperate for attention,” he hisses. His hot breath caresses my ear, and I suck in a breath in response, clamping my jaw shut tight so I don’t moan. We’ve played this game before, and I lost every single time.

“N-no,” I say. Even as I say it, I know I don’t sound convincing. It’s like Ryan Linc has a sixth sense when it comes to me. He knew if he left that note on my locker, I’d come. Maybe I am starved for attention. Who could blame me? My home life is fucked. My ex liked to drag me around to parties more than he liked to show me that he actually cared.

“It’s just so easy to tempt you.” He drops his hand from the ledge and splays it against my thigh. He brings his hand up, raising my skirt with it until his finger passes so close to my slit I nearly cry out. He keeps moving upwards until his hands are spread out over my stomach. “I didn’t mean what I said in the letter,” he says mockingly. “I’m not impressed.”

“Because you’re scared,” I say, trying to find my voice. “You don’t want me to beat you.”

His fingers dig into my skin. If my shirt wasn’t in the way, I’d probably have the shape of his nail indented there. “Wrong again. You’re always wrong.” His hand dips lower. I close my eyes. I know he’s just teasing me. I know this is wrong, but I can’t seem to tell him to leave me alone either. I like what he’s doing to me. Heat pools through my center, and I squirm. He holds me steady, pressing against me. I gasp when his I feel his hard length press into my lower back.

I can’t hold it back any longer. I groan hard. “Oh fuck.”

He freezes. For a second, his breath comes out in a harsh curse. Then, he chuckles darkly. He leans over me, forcing my front against the wall as he presses into me. The cold, colored brick wall is a stark contrast to my flushed skin. “Enjoy tonight, Tessa, because things are about to get so much worse for you.”

His fingers have stopped exploring. There’s a ringing in my head, and even though I know he’s said something, I can’t stop picturing his hand sneaking further down. Lifting my ass in the air, I rub into the crotch of his jeans. I’m having deja vu. The past is repeating itself when it comes to Ryan Linc and me. I swear he likes torturing me. Really likes torturing me. Maybe in a sadistic way, but it’s terrible that I crave it too. It’s as if whatever scraps the Ballers try to give me, I eat up.

His finger drops an inch lower, dancing around my clit. Another moan I can’t stop escapes me. He teases around the outside, but never presses on my nub. He’s playing me. I know he is, but I’m letting him. Shame will hit me later, but for right now, Ryan Linc is touching me. I’ve dreamed about this. I’ve dreamed about four out of the five Ballers. Lake is a dick, an irredeemable one at that. But the other four? I’ve thought about them in so many different scenarios.

His pointer finger lifts from my skirt. I force my hips forward, searching for his relief in the dark. I’m almost panting with pent-up need. Then, the bell rings overhead, reality crashing down on me. I’m in a school hallway with Ryan Linc who’s made it his mission to make sure everyone here hates me.

He pulls his body away from mine. I turn at the sudden loss of him only to catch his last glimpse of me as he readjusts himself. “For the record, Tessa, no one wants you. Trust me, I know. I could’ve bent you over just now, but…” He shrugs and fakes a tremor going through him. “…just no.”

Ryan Linc leaves me in the stairwell, the mark of his fingers still fanning the fire he built inside me. I don’t understand the reasoning behind how easily I get caught up in him—in all of them. I honestly wish I hated them. It would make it so much easier to deal with all of this.

For the rest of the day, every guy I come into contact with asks me to the homecoming dance. The first one got me. I tried to stammer out a response, but before I could, he burst out laughing, doubling over at the waist, letting me know what he truly thought of me. After that, they all just laughed as soon as the question lingered in the air. They’ve stopped bothering to pretend anymore.

13

Dawn went and got herself a date to the homecoming dance, so she texted me to meet her there. Apparently, her getting a date didn’t mean I could get out of this. Ryan and the rest of the Ballers will be there. Girls will be draped over them like it’s the only thing they want to do with their lives. And I’ll just watch from afar.

When I get to the school, no one is guarding the school parking lot, so at last, I get to park there. When I stand from the car, I pull the back of my dress down, making sure it covers my ass. It’s the dress I wore to an event with Dad. There’s plenty of dresses in my closet just like it. I have an event wardrobe and a normal, everyday wardrobe. I used to have my academy uniforms, too, but they’re all gone now. Anyone else might feel like they were trading down. Not me. I knew I was making the right decision even if the Ballers were going to taunt me along the way.

Once inside, I head toward the gym and find Dawn leaning against the retracted bleachers, a guy standing over her. He has his hand by her head, and she’s just staring up at him, a happy smile plastered over her face. When I get close enough to say something to her, I almost turn around. She looks so happy, and with my reputation, I don’t want to ruin it for her. I’m off-limits, and I don’t need to be spreading that to Dawn, too. By the time I’ve decided to turn, though, Dawn sees me. She waves and slips under her guy’s arm. “Tessa!”

She runs over and grabs my hand, her nails digging into my palm. She leans over and whispers. “Holy shit. Look who I’m here with.”

When I glance up, I notice the guy is handsome. He’s big with wide shoulders. He has an unusually large smile that immediately puts me at ease. I hold my hand out. “I’m—”

“Tessa Dale,” he says. “How could I not know?”

He shakes my hand, and then I immediately move it behind my back. It was a decent question on his side, but now I’m just shifting from foot to foot. Awkward moments are my friend. They happen a lot to me.

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