Page 62 of Game On

She waves at me again, and I scoot into the girls’ locker room before my dad can catch up to me. Maybe I’m being petty. I honestly don’t care. He had weeks and weeks to talk to me, but he didn’t. Now he can talk to me on my terms.

I stay under the spray of the shower for a long time. I think I’m half-hoping everyone will be gone when I get out. No Dad. No Chase. No Ballers.

I hear a noise behind me and turn. I jump when I find Ryan Linc standing in the entrance to the shower stall. “Ryan!” My voice echoes through the room as I cover myself up. My left arm comes over my breasts and the other splays over the joining of my thighs.

He walks past the shower curtain that’s way too small to cover the whole entrance and stands in front of me. I take him in. He’s all wild-eyed, hair a mess, but there’s more. There’s blood dripping from his knuckles.

Forgetting how naked I am right now, I walk forward and grab his hand. His freaking shooting hand. “What did you do?”

“This is it, Tessa. This is why I tried to keep my distance from you.” His lips shake as he speaks.

“What are you talking about?” I pull him closer, so the spray hits his knuckles. They’re split wide open like he punched something or someone. My stomach turns.Ryan...My Ryan is hurt.

“He just had to show up,” he says, shaking his head.

I blink at him. “What?” He just stares at me. To his credit, his gaze hasn’t dropped once. He’s too busy staring at me like he’s trying to burn a truth into my brain.

“I wasn’t pretending to like you at camp, Tessa. I did like you. I do like you. It was easier to keep you away. It was easier for us all to pretend. I could kill Alec for giving in.”

I drop his hand and just stare at him. The water from the shower soaks one half of his body. Drops drip from the corner of his lips as he talks.

“Is that what you wanted to hear? Does that make everything better? To me, it just makes everything worse.” He pulls his hand up, showing me his cracked knuckles. I hope to God he hasn’t sprained, or worse, broken anything. Then, his jaw hardens. “Don’t let Chase fucking Fisher come here again. We won’t be as nice next time. You’re ours, remember? He can’t touch you or have you or even talk to you. I won’t let it happen.”

He turns and leaves, his wet sneakers squeaking against the tile as he exits the bathroom. I back up until my back hits the handle for the cold and hot water, mind whirring about Ryan’s confession.

He likes me?

30

Tryouts are intense. The next few days fly by because of it. I barely pay attention in class. I hear Coach’s words over and over in my head about how to get better. As soon as I get home from practice, I’m out on the court working on whatever we did that day ten-fold. My mom keeps me fed and watered like I’m a puppy. I wake up early to run still, but only because I’m used to it. I don’t talk to any of the Ballers. It was almost like a subconscious decision between all of us that we not talk. I don’t want the distraction and neither do they. When Ryan, Alec, Sloan, and Hayes come to school the next day after the first tryout with bandages around their knuckles, I don’t even give them a second glance. Not my problem. Laser focus, full steam ahead. I’m getting a spot on the team and it’s not because at least three out of the five Ballers like me.

Lake can go suck a dick.

He’s ballsy with me in practices just like he was during the Baller trials. He posts too hard, he throws elbows. The only difference this time is that Coach will call him out on it. So, instead of stopping, he’s gotten sneaky. I don’t understand how he has a knack for knowing when Coach is looking and when he’s not, but nine times out of ten when he gives me a cheap shot, no one notices. Or if they do, no one’s saying shit. Lake O’Brien is a certifiable asshole.

I’m confident I’m doing the best I can, though. That’s all I can ask of myself. I’m glad I’m not choking or letting the pressure—oranyof the Ballers—get to me. Ignoring them, though difficult, beats letting them get into my head. After tryouts are over and I make the team, that’s when things can return back to a semi-normal with them. Just maybe not with Ryan.

It was clear that though they’ve claimed me, Ryan doesn’t want me around. Even if he likes me, he doesn’t want me around, which I don’t get in the least.

Tryouts are affecting them, too. Shawn and Matt don’t sit near them at lunch anymore. None of the guys have a girl with them at lunch either. Well, except Lake, but does that really shock anyone? Maybe if he spent as much time working on his game rather than flirting, I wouldn’t be rivaling him for shooting guard. At least, I think I am. It’s hard to tell, but I’m damn good. Of course, my opinion of him is swayed because he’s such a jackass.

On the day Coach is set to announce the team, I’m a nervous wreck. It’s Friday, the school is buzzing with the news. Just like any other RHS basketball activity, the public is allowed back in. I’ve even had media calling my house to talk to me about tryouts, which is absolutely insane. My mother’s been telling them I’ll be happy to talk to them after I make the team. This morning, Hayes shows back up at my car and walks me to all my classes again in his silent way. We get quite a few looks from people, but honestly, I’m used to it by now. The only time he doesn’t sit with me is at lunch.

“They keep looking at you,” Dawn says. She’s staring over at them again, so I tell her to stop.

“It is kind of weird,” David agrees. I’ve pretty much come to the conclusion that he’s a permanent fixture in our little group now.

“Right?” Dawn says. She’s sipping her milk, but her eyes are peeled to their table. “What do you think they’re saying?”

David snickers.

“What?” Dawn asks, finally turning her attention toward us.

“Nothing,” David says.

“No, what?”

David looks from me to her. “It’s not obvious?” When we just stare at him blankly, he says, “At least half of them…” He narrows his gaze and looks over again. “…more than half, are looking at her like they want to bend her over this lunch table right now.”

---