Page 55 of Game On

I can’t blame him. I take basketball camp just as seriously as my regular season games.

“I’m going to pick you up tonight,” Sloan says, his hand trails down my arm. It’s the first evening we don’t have to do anything related to baseball, so I half expect Ryan to ruin our plans. I caught him when the last out was made during the last playoff game. His shoulders relaxed. He was relieved even if Alec wasn’t. Ryan Linc is truly the point guard in the Ballers real life, too. He likes to make sure everything is planned out ahead of time and moving along smoothly.

“Yeah?” I ask. He’s walking me out to my car at the end of the day. He told me I can park in the lot again, even Ryan grunted out an agreement, but I don’t think so. “What should I wear anyway? A dress?”

Sloan bites his lip then scales down my body. I push his shoulder. He smiles. “Yes, a dress or a skirt. Something fancy but not too fancy.”

“Your parents know I’m coming, right?”

His face pinches into a scowl. “Yes. They can’t wait to meet Timothy Dale’s daughter.”

“I’ve met them before.”

He smirks. “I know that. You know that. They’re clueless. They like to do this thing when greeting someone where it’s ambiguous if they’ve met the person before. You’ll see.” He leans down and kisses my forehead. “Five-thirty, Daddy’s girl.”

I get in my car and drive home. When I get there, my mom is dusting the living room. I’m glad to see her doing that again. She’s a neat freak, but she let the house go when Dad left. And by let the house go, I just mean that it looks like everyone else’s house in America instead of a place you can’t set a dish down without her freaking out. I walk up behind her and give her a hug. “Hey.”

“Hey,” she says.

I squeeze her tighter. She’s even gained a little weight. Good. Going out for those happy hours is great for her. “I think you missed a spot,” I say teasingly.

She whirls toward the TV stand, but as soon as she does it, her shoulders slump. “Ha. Ha. Regular comedian.” Now this, this feels natural.

“What got you in the cleaning mood today?”

She shrugs, then plops down in the leather couch. “I’m just trying to get back to my old self little by little. Or maybe my new self but add in the things that used to make me happy.” She always said cleaning made her happy every time my dad suggested we get a maid. I have no idea what’s in her head, but it’s not in mine. Cleaning is the worst. Especially when your mom is the clean Nazi who’ll inspect your bedroom. If it’s not up to standards, she cleans it herself, which a teenage girl never wants.

“That’s good, Mom.” I kind of want to ask her if she’s spoken to Dad lately, but since she’s having this epiphany of moving on, I don’t want to push it. So, instead, I say, “I have a date tonight.”

“Andrew?” she asks, eyebrows raising.

“Ha. No,” I tell her. “Sloan Ivy.”

She tilts her head. “The Senator’s son, right? Plays basketball?”

“That’s him. I guess there’s a dinner at his parents’ house tonight, and he’s invited me.” I don’t know why I’m worried about what my mom will say. Maybe because I also haven’t told her I’m seeing Alec at the same time. She’s going to think it’s weird. Hell, I think it’s weird, but if they don’t care, I’m certainly not going to care.

“Good, Tess. That’s great. You’ve been so involved with basketball lately that it will be good for you to get out and have fun.” She stands up and continues to dust. “I don’t understand why tryouts haven’t even started yet and you’re already so busy.”

I stare up at her, regret setting in. Maybe I’m leaving her alone too much. Dad left her, and now I’m too busy. The only thing is, I don’t see a way out of it. I’ll just have to try harder and encourage her to go out with her friends instead of staying home. “I know,” I say. “I guess it’s just tradition.”

Her shoulders move up slightly. I bite my lip and look around the house. The place seems so big with just the two of us in it. Dad was larger than life, his presence everywhere you looked with loud stories, invitation announcements, and basketball, basketball, basketball.

“Can you help me pick the perfect outfit out for tonight? I guess it’s Mr. and Mrs. Ivy with a few of their friends. Sloan told me to where something fancy, but not too fancy.”

Mom turns, a smile on her face. “Men and their descriptions. What does fancy but not too fancy even mean?”

“Good question.”

Her eyes glitter, and she waves me toward the stairs. “Come on. I’m sure you’ve got something. Lord knows we’ve gone to plenty of parties.”

My mom and I spend the next couple hours picking out the perfect outfit and styling my hair. We don’t always get to do this because I’m not usually the ‘let’s do my hair’ kind of girl. Don’t get me wrong, I love to dress up, but I don’t need to dress up to practice, train, or play and I’m always practicing, training, and playing.

When Sloan rings the doorbell, my mom squeezes my shoulder as we look in the mirror. Then, she goes downstairs to let him in as I turn in the outfit we picked out. It’s a sleek navy blue dress that hugs my body but has a little flair to the skirt after my hips. Downstairs, I hear Sloan and my mom making small talk, so I hurry. The small heel I’m wearing doesn’t bother me as I descend the staircase. I’m not one for high heels. I’d spend the whole time tripping all over myself.

At the bottom of the steps, Sloan looks up past my mom once he hears me. His jaw drops a little and suddenly, I feel like I’m going to prom or something. “Too much?”

He shakes his head immediately. “It’s perfect. It’s just I’m used to seeing you in regular clothes or workout clothes.”

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