“Tired, Matt?” Sloan asks.
I look over and see him bent at the waist, his hands on his knees. They would have to run me ragged before I ever showed I was that tired. Rookie mistake. “Two more lines.”
Matt doesn’t argue. Good thing. He toes the line. I follow. I have to wave Shawn to the line, too. Just before Sloan tells us to go, he gets it. Whatever one of us does, we’re all doing. No matter what. We finish the lines, and I come in second again with Matt trailing a little further back.
“Don’t let Dale beat you,” Ryan shouts. “Again! Two more.”
We all toe the line and run two more lines. I beat Matt again. I can’t let Matt beat me even though Ryan’s going to yell at him again. If I let him beat me, it’ll just make everything doubly worse.
“Again!” Ryan eyes Matt while he’s running. “Do you like getting beaten by a girl? Stop letting her win.”
“I’m not letting her win, Ryan,” he says, breathless.
I feel pretty good about that, but I also know he should’ve kept his mouth shut. “Oh, so your training just sucks? Is that what you’re telling me, Dempsey?”
“I’ll work on it,” he says.
We finish with the lines, and I beat him again. In fact, I almost even beat Shawn out. I run across the edge of the court just a split second behind him.
I can feel all of the Ballers eyes on me more than the other guys. Assessing, picking me apart. Hopefully, maybe, they’re also a little impressed. Not that they’d ever admit it.
When we line up after that, Alec tells us we’re doing foul line shots. The air is getting cooler, and I’m getting hotter. A chill goes through me, but there’s no way I’m saying anything. Ryan, who’s had the ball the entire time, throws it to Shawn. “Don’t stop until you hit ten in a row.”
Because Matt is sucking in air like he might die, I position myself near the rim to get the rebounds. Shawn makes his first two, then misses the third, so he starts all over again. He has to start all over again a few times, even once when he was all the way at nine baskets made. I can see the frustration growing within him, but I give him encouragement every time I throw the ball back at him. He’s at five made when I say, “You got this.” He actually smiles at me then. “Nice and easy. You can do this all day.”
He does. He makes the next five shots with little effort.
“Alright cheerleader,” Alec says, “You’re up next.”
The nickname doesn’t bother me. That’s what being on a team is all about: encouragement. I only have to start over once at four baskets made. I throw it just a tad too hard and it hits the back right where the hoop meets the backboard. The whole thing vibrates with a resounding duuuuuuung. I don’t let it get to my head. If I do, I know I’m screwed. I just accept the rebound from Matt and jump up ten more times, hitting all of them in a row. Shawn moves forward to give me a high five when I finish.
Now, it’s Matt’s turn. He does surprisingly well after the suicides fiasco. I have a sinking suspicion he wouldn’t be doing so well if he’d been made to go first. He misses the first basket, but then makes some adjustments and sinks the next ten. I clap as soon as the tenth swishes through the net. “Nice!”
“That’s it for tonight,” Lake says. When I look up, he’s glaring at me, but I just let it slide right off my shoulders. I know I did well tonight. Probably better than they thought I would do. “We’ll expect you at the homecoming game tomorrow.”
My stomach tightens. Of course they do. After tonight, the last thing I want to do is show my face so soon in front of the whole school after they all just saw a dick drawn on my face, but there’s nothing I can do about it.
“Huddle up,” Ryan says. We all move forward. The Ballers are still in their nice dance outfits, looking sleek. Even though I’m still in my dress, I know I look like a hot mess. He grabs his phone from his pocket and gives it to Matt. “Text your phone from mine, so I can get your number.”
Matt does it first, then Shawn.
“I’ll give it to the rest of the guys.”
Shawn goes to hand Ryan’s phone to me, but Ryan snatches it out of his hand. “I have Dale’s already.” I don’t know why that makes a triumphant smile come to my lips. It makes me feel important even though the only thing he’s ever texted to me is threats.
“Good job tonight, guys,” Alec says as the group disperses. He looks straight at me when I meet his gaze. He’s giving me a once-over I don’t quite understand, but out of all of them, he’s looking at me almost peculiarly, like he hasn’t been able to figure me out yet.
Shawn, Matt, and I walk away and grab our bags by the edge of the court. I look over at Matt while he bends to pick up his stuff. “You know, if you ever want a running buddy, I’m available,” I tell him before pulling my gym bag back over my shoulder. His shoulders stiffen. I want to roll my eyes, but instead, I push forward. “I run most mornings.”
“Thanks,” he says, his voice gruff, then he walks off toward a back street.
“See you tomorrow, Dale,” Shawn says.
I nod, still watching Matt as he walks away, then head back out toward my car. All five Ballers are still on the court. It makes me nervous to see them all together and obviously discussing something. A pinch of unease runs up my spine, but I shake it away and get in my car. At least the first trials event is over with.
When I pull away, one thought gets stuck in my head: I wonder why my dad never said anything to me about trials.
15