Page 61 of Game On

Her mother comes up behind her and smiles at me. “Sorry.”

I shake my head. “It’s nothing.” Then, I put my hand out. “I’m Tessa Dale.”

Mrs. Christopoulos shakes it. “My son has told me a lot about you.” She squeezes her daughter’s shoulders. “It’s time to let Miss Dale warm up, okay? We can watch her from the stands. Where we’re supposed to be.”

“Sure, Mom,” Roberta says.

They walk off, and when I turn back toward center court, Alec is staring at me. He’s half smiling, half hopeful. The good news is, Roberta’s gift has actually made me a little less nervous. Seeing other people here rooting for me helps. After that, I try not to look in the stands at all. I don’t want to see my father. I’m not ready to face him, and I know if I see him, I won’t be able to stop my mind from going to what he did to us. I need to keep my focus.

“Alright,” Coach Bradley says in his booming voice. “Line up.” We do as he says. When we’re in place, he tells Ryan to give us a short warm-up.

We do some jumping jacks, lunges, arm swings, and more stretching until I’m nice and limber. After that, Coach tells us to run a few lines, but then we’re into basketball drills that test our footwork, speedwork, and ball handling. I’ve sat through this tryout before. I know it’s not going to be too tough, but it’s also amazing how you can pinpoint the weak ones even from a simple workout.

I have to admit that Matt is doing better than when we were in the Baller trials. In some small way, I hope I helped him with his conditioning. He’s not even the slowest on the team. I give him a nod during our passing drills. When we take a water break before the last shootaround, I run to the side of the court and grab my water bottle before chugging it down. Ryan’s voice is distinct above all others when he says, “What the fuck?”

I turn to see all the Ballers huddled around one another, blocking Ryan from the crowd. Their bodies are tense, and they’re eyes are blazing as they gaze into the stands. I don’t even think twice before I follow their line of sight. My heart leaps into my throat. Chase Fisher is sitting in the front row. He smiles and lifts his hand to wave at me. I smile back at him awkwardly. I never responded to his text and the last time I saw him, the Ballers pretty much told him to get fucked, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t like him. I just don’t like him like I like the Ballers. Well, most of them anyway.

I walk back out onto the court. Though he’s trying to be quieter, I can still hear him. “I thought we told him to stay away,” Ryan seethes.

I’m trying my best to ignore them, but I still don’t understand why he cares about Chase or anything to do with me for that matter. I turn my head to look toward Chase again to make sure he’s the reason Ryan’s getting upset when my gaze catches on my dad. I freeze, my fingers halfway through my ponytail. He’s staring at me, watching me from the sidelines like he’s done so many times before. However, he’s sitting next to Ryan’s mom, which makes me spitting mad. He couldn’t even watch tryouts by himself? I shake my head and turn away.

Coach blows his whistle. “Shootaround!”

Fire sings through my veins. I line up with the rest of them for the round robin shooting and make every basket I take. My shots swish through the hoop, or I run up with the layup, each shot is placed with perfection. My fingers tingle like a live wire. The line moves fast, but not fast enough for me. I’m feeling it so much, I want to show everyone what I can do right now. When Coach blows the whistle at the end of practice, it’s like the signal for me to start breathing again. I look around, shocked that the shootaround went by so quickly. “Damn, Dale,” one of the players says. “Do they call you the Real Deal too?”

I smile at him. I have to admit, that felt good. Sweat drips down my face. I use the bottom of the practice jersey to wipe it off. Before I can drop it again, I catch Ryan’s eyes. He’s staring at me like he’s cocked and loaded, Coach in his ear about something. When they break, Coach turns and finds me. He strides over. “Just wanted to say nice job today, Tessa. I’m sad I’ve never seen you play before today. You’re good.”

The nerves ease in my stomach. “Thanks, Coach.”

He nods. “See you here tomorrow.”

The guys all jog toward the boys’ locker room, and I go the other way. I need a shower, and then maybe I’ll soak in the hot tub when I get home even though I know I should use an ice bath. I just can’t stand them. When I make my way over to the far side of the court, I see Chase stand. I wave to him and walk over to greet him. I know I’m a complete mess, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Wow, Tessa.”

“Yeah?” Even though I’m already over-heated from practice, I can feel my face flame at his compliment.

He looks away and lifts on his heels. “I can tell you love the game.”

I rub my cheeks. “Thanks. And, um, I’m sorry about what happened at homecoming.” It seems like ages ago, but I guess it’s only been a couple weeks.

“And not responding to my texts?” he asks, his eyebrows rising.

I try to hide my face and then look up at him.

“I get it,” he says. He shrugs and jams his hands into his pockets. “Just, if you ever want to talk or go out, you have my number.”

“Tess,” my dad calls behind me.

I look and see him walking toward me, alone.

“Isn’t that your dad?” Chase asks. His face flushes and I see a little bit of that fan thing happening. I need to get out of here because I can’t sit through someone gushing about my dad right now.

“I’ll see you around, Chase.” I walk away, not bothering to stop when my dad calls my name again.

Roberta waves at me like crazy from the stands, so I wave back. Dawn jumps up and down at the very end. I wave at her, too, then call out, “I’d hug you, but I’m gross.”

“You did so good!”

I laugh because she doesn’t even know that for sure. She’s just guessing. Or David told her I did good, I’m not sure which. “I’ll text you!”

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