Page 58 of Game On

“Am I?” I ask, holding my hands in front of myself. I already know I’m early. I was too excited; I couldn’t stand waiting at my house any longer. “Do you need any help?”

He sighs. “Sure. My mom was supposed to make the punch before she went out for the night, but she forgot.” I follow him into the other room and find a kitchen. There’s a punch bowl on the counter surrounded by soda and fruit punch. Ryan places his hands on the counter next to it and stares down. “Do you know how to make it?”

I pull my cell phone out of my pocket. “I suck at stuff like this, but that’s what Google is for.” I find a recipe that has just soda and fruit punch and tell Ryan how much to put in of each. He empties all of the fruit punch and most of the lemon line soda until he turns to grab the ice cube trays from the freezer. He pops the ice free, then dumps the ice into the bowl. “Anything else?” I ask.

He looks around the kitchen, surprisingly a little nervous. I didn’t think Ryan would actually care. He’s so confident and the type that likes to take charge. The guy’s a natural born leader. Why would he care what we think about his party throwing abilities? “I think that’s everything,” he says.

I stand there awkwardly for a second, but there’s been something that’s been nagging at me when it comes to the Ballers. I could be way off base, but I say it anyway. “It must be hard.”

He turns to look at me, wrinkles marring his forehead.

I take a deep breath. “I mean, knowing that some of us might not make the team. I bet it’s hard going through this every year. Just because they don’t make it doesn’t mean they’re not good people.”

Ryan’s gaze narrows. “It’s basketball, Dale. You’re either good, or I don’t give a shit about you.”

Not the answer I was expecting. I also think he’s full of shit which makes my hackles go up. If he didn’t care, why would he send me a text about helping Shawn and Matt? “You barely give a shit about the ones who are good.” His jaw hardens, so I tack on, “Barring the Ballers, of course,” with a slight eyeroll.

“Y0u think you have everything figured out, don’t you?”

He takes a step toward me. My heart beats hard once, but then we hear the front door open and step back quickly like we were about to get caught. Doing what, I don’t know. Fighting more most likely. Sloan calls out, “Yo, Ry.”

“In here,” Ryan says, eyeing me the entire time.

Sloan walks in and hugs me from behind. Ryan looks away after his pupils dilate slightly. “My girl,” Sloan says, playfully biting my neck.

“Not justyourgirl,” Ryan says, his voice laced in that same hard tone I’ve become used to.

“A man can dream.”

After that, the house fills with testosterone. Every single Baller just walks right into Ryan’s house. Shawn and Matt are the only ones who use the doorbell besides me. I can tell the Ballers are comfortable here. They sit on the furniture like they own the place. Someone puts on SportsCenter while the others are just talking about school, family, and whatever comes up. I’m pretty much just standing on the outskirts until Alec looks up. He motions for me to come over, but I hesitate. He pats his leg, and that I just can’t pass up. We’ve been so busy with baseball first, and then basketball stuff, that we haven’t had much time together. I settle down in his lap and join in on the conversation Shawn is having with him about baseball. When Shawn asks him if he ever thought about going to college on a baseball scholarship, Alec’s body stiffens underneath me.

Ryan hears this. From the corner of my eye, I see his shoulders tense. He’s talking with Lake—who hates that I’m here—so he’s pretending not to listen even though I know Ryan never misses a thing. I’m sure he knows more about me than I want him to and not just because the guys share things with him.

“Ha,” Alec says, his voice pushing for light-hearted. “No.”

I look back at him. Even I can tell there was a lie in there somewhere. My mouth opens to ask about it, but he quickly shakes his head. Instead, I bite down on my lip and face forward.

The Ballers have secrets. I always knew that. It wasn’t until I got more involved with them that I realized just how much they were all hiding. They aren’t just the kings of Rockport High. They have real lives, real problems. They care deeply, mostly about one another. In a way, it’s exactly what I imagined being allowed into their clique would be like, but in others, it’s completely different. It’s so abnormally normal.

I’m happy here, I realize. If I don’t make the team, I’ll be devastated. Not just because of all the plans I have for the future, but because as Ryan says, they don’t let in outsiders. Sure, they’ve claimed me, but how long will that last if I’m not one of them? If Shawn or Matt don’t make the team, they’re gone. They won’t be invited here or anywhere ever again, and I shouldn’t expect any different. The only upside to that will be the fact I can avoid Lake’s leering, pompous stare.

Alec rubs my back. “You okay?”

I nod. Heat gathers behind my eyes, but there’s no way I’m crying in Ryan Linc’s house over something so stupid. It reminds me of the “There’s no crying in baseball!” line from that Tom Hanks movie. I clear my throat instead. “Yep. Good. You want some punch?”

He looks into his empty cup. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

I get up at the same time a door opens somewhere in the back of the house. I saw there was an attached garage, so I think it’s just Ryan’s mom, but the way the Ballers all freeze makes me stand in place, my eyes darting from one to the other. Heavy footsteps hit the hallway.

“Ryan!” Alec hisses.

But then my dad peeks his head around the corner. His eyes go wide, as do mine, but then I’m smiling. I didn’t know Ryan invited my dad to this. It’s probably one of those traditions they don’t bother telling people. “Hey, Dad,” I say, moving toward him. We were supposed to get together last weekend, but he texted that something came up. I haven’t seen him in a few weeks and have only been keeping him updated over text about what’s going on with the trials and how nervous I am about the actual tryouts.

“Hey, Honey,” he says, his gaze shifting behind him.

You know that feeling when you know there’s something wrong, but you can’t quite place it? I’m having it now hardcore, but I don’t understand. I turn back toward the group after giving him a hug. Sloan is staring at his lap. Alec’s face is all red. Ryan, for once, looks like he’s caught in the headlights. Lake is just smirking, and Hayes’ face has a slight pout I don’t usually see. I shake it off though. Sometimes seeing my dad can be an event for some people, though I would have thought the Ballers would have gotten over it by now. “Shawn, Matt, this is my dad, Timothy Dale.”

Heels click across the tile my dad just came through. “Sorry, Honey,” a female voice calls out. “We forgot something.” I hear a “mmm” sound right before I hear a tiny slap, and my dad clenches. Ryan’s mom peeks out around my dad. My face drains. Mrs. Linc just smacked my dad’s ass. I look to my dad, who’s trying to keep a smile on his face.No. No, no.I take a step back. My dad…and Ryan’s mom?

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