Page 30 of Game On

“Like humiliating her?” Chase moves into the aisle and then takes a step down like he’s going to confront the Ballers.

Is he insane?There’s just him, and they’re the whole basketball team. I stand up and grab the back of his shirt. When he whips around to look at me, I whisper, “Don’t do this, okay? I’m fine. I’ll talk to you later.”

Creases run deep through his forehead. He’s staring at me like I’m from an alien planet and he has no idea why I’m just taking any of this. “They’re not even playing fair. They—”

“Actually, you won’t talk to her later,” Alec interjects. “Tessa’s really busy with basketball. Tell him, Tessa.”

I glare over at him. He’s not smirking. Not in the least. His lips are a thin line, but he doesn’t look at me at all. He’s staring at Chase like he’s just took the spot of enemy number one.

Sloan holds back a laugh. “Yeah, tell him Tessa.”

My face heats. Chase is one of the only people who’s being nice to me. The last thing I want to do is tell him I don’t want to talk to him, but I have no choice. “I, um…” Below us, the football team runs onto the field. The band starts playing the fight song. The crowd not sitting near us is clapping and cheering. I peek at the Ballers again. They’re dead serious.

“Save it,” Chase says. He gives me one last look and then starts down the stands, taking the steps two at a time. Like the assholes they are, the Ballers cheer for him all the way down. I sit down immediately. My face is hot, but there’s a chill in the air, so I shiver as I watch Chase make his way out of the football area, his cheeks a ruddy red.

The Ballers don’t look at me when they sit down, save for Alec. He shoots me a look that pins me in place, then turns slowly, allowing the girl who had her cheek on his shoulder to cozy back up to him again. I glare at the spot their bodies meet. For a moment, I could almost trick myself into thinking that Alec had another reason for not wanting Chase to ask me out. He seemed so mad. If this is just a game to him, why the clenched fists? Why the anger?

I already know my answer. They just hate me that much.

17

White-knuckled, I watch the whole game. I barely even move from my spot because I don’t want to catch the ire of any one of the Ballers even when I can feel my cell phone pinging like crazy in my pocket. I keep running through the scenario in my head. No matter how much I wanted to tell the Ballers to get fucked about who I hang out with, they determine what my fate with the basketball team will be. And basketball is my everything. Hands down.

After RHS loses the game—big surprise—the Ballers tell us we’re to help take the flatbed back to Alec’s family’s house. Matt, Shawn, and I trudge back over to the float where we start pulling off the decorations and throwing them into any available trashcan we can find. Soon, it’s whittled down to just the flatbed with the five metal folding chairs on it. Shawn and I jump onto the float to fold up the chairs. While we’re both bent over, he whispers, “If you tell anyone, I’ll deny it, but what they just did to you was fucked up.”

I look over at him, surprised. Surprised that he feels that way at all, but also surprised he would say anything.

He shrugs. “I had my own thoughts about you, pre-conceived notions you might say. At first, I thought you deserved everything you were getting. You surprised me,” he says finally.

I raise my eyebrows at him.

He chuckles. “I know. I’m serious about denying I said any of this though.” He stares at me a couple beats longer, his eyes turning almost black. “Don’t even think about saying anything to them.”

I sigh. “I’m not going to rat you out,” I tell him, realizing that just sounds fucking ridiculous. Rat him out when all he’s saying is that I’m not as bad as he thought I was. I should be insulted, yet, it’s coming off as a compliment.

“If I were you,” he said. “I’d probably grovel and tell that guy you’re sorry, but that doesn’t mean he should come around when you’re at a Baller thing. I don’t think they let shit like that slide easily. You wouldn’t want him to ruin your chance.”

I nod knowingly. When we fold all five chairs and push them to the edge, we both jump down. Alec backs up his old truck to hook up the flatbed as Matt grabs a couple chairs. Alec tells him to throw them in the back of the truck, so he does. Shawn and I grab the rest and put them in the back while Alec hooks the flatbed up to his truck. “Get in the front seat, Tessa,” Alec says, winching the fasteners. “Matt and Shawn, you guys can follow us to my house.”

I look up at him. “My car is—”

His gaze narrows. “I’ll take you back to your car, just get in the truck.”

I swallow hard. Shawn gives me an apologetic look, but I do what Alec says. Who knows what kind of torture he wants to put me through on the way to his house so we can put the flatbed away?

His passenger door creaks when I jump in. The interior has an old, used smell that isn’t unpleasant. It’s just not what I’m used to. A tree-shaped deodorizer hangs off the rearview mirror. When Alec gets in, it sways back and forth, giving off a lemon scent. I reach back to pull my seatbelt around me and have to try several times before I can get it latched, but at least when it’s in there, I’m not worried about it coming out easily. I’m more worried that I won’t be able to unlatch it when we get to his house.

“Definitely not your Mustang,” Alec quips.

I steel myself and take in a breath. I don’t even bother replying because nothing I say will probably make a difference.

“You’ve probably never been in a work truck before, have you?”

“No,” I reply simply. My dad had a truck-like vehicle once. It was an Escalade, but he traded it in for something else because he didn’t like it. My dad’s not me, though.

He shakes his head and snickers. He looks out the side mirror and then slowly pulls away from where he’s parked in the lot. The cars that were in the lot are pretty much all gone. Even the rest of the Ballers aren’t around anymore. “My dad used to use it for work. I got it as a hand-me-down. Sorry if it offends you.”

“Why would you think it would offend me?” I snap, my temper overflowing. I can’t even help it. I’m sick of people acting like those who are well-off are the devil incarnate. Besides, I’m not the one who’s rich. My dad is, and he fucking earned it.

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