Page 63 of Game On

Dawn gasps, then sputters on her milk, spraying some of it on the table between us. She blinks at me. “Half the Ballers want to fuck you?”

“More than half,” David corrects.

I let my head drop back. “Why are we talking about this?”

“You’re not interested?”

“Not right now,” I tell her. “I have so many things to worry about. Shit, I almost put my shoes on the wrong feet this morning. My mom almost didn’t trust me to drive myself to school.”

She gives me a slight frown. This morning I told her my dad’s been calling. He keeps telling my mom he wants to talk to me, and she’s telling him she’s not stopping me. She’s not. I know I’ll see him tonight, so maybe, maybe, I’ll talk to him then. That’s a big maybe. “Right, of course,” she says. “Lots to worry about. Including how you’re going to handle that many cocks.”

My mouth drops. “Dawn!” She bursts out laughing, David right alongside her. I follow suit. “What the hell?”

“I couldn’t resist,” she says, leaning on David for support. “It literally just fell out of my mouth. I couldn’t stop it!”

David just shakes his head at her while he squeezes her shoulders. I run a hand through my hair, hoping no one else heard that. “I can’t think about cocks right now,” I whisper to the both of them.

“Whoa,” a voice says. Christie sits down next to me, her hair high in a ponytail. “Came in at the wrong time in that conversation.”

“Hey, Christie,” I say, giving Dawn a look to keep quiet.

“Hey,” she says. “I just wanted to tell you good luck tonight. I hope you make it.” She sends a scathing glance over my shoulder. “Only partly because I want you to wipe the floor with the assholes who took shots at my brother.”

Dawn sucks in a breath. “What?” I never told her about Ryan coming to visit me in the shower and what happened after that. She assumed they were all wearing bandages for some basketball reason, and I never told her any different. “They hurt Chase?”

David shifts in his seat. Obviously, I wasn’t the only one who knew. I stare back at her. “Christie, I—”

“Don’t sweat it, Dale. I know it’s not your fault. I meant what I said, kick their fucking asses. Hurt them where it matters most, their pride.” With that, she stands to leave.

Dawn’s jaw is unhinged. She gawks at Christie as she leaves, then she turns toward me. “You bitch.”

“I wasn’t sure,” I tell her.

She blinks. “Are you serious? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Come on, Dawn,” David says, patting her leg.

“Oh, I’m not really pissed, David. You really have to learn my social cues. I’m just saying, I had no idea. They beat Chase up for you?”

I shrug, which only makes David laugh. “All the cocks, remember?” he says when I try to deny it. “I’m a dude. I can spot it.”

My next class may as well have been taught in Latin for all I understood or cared to listen. Once in gym, I walk toward the locker room to change, but I spot Coach talking to Miss Lyons. “Dale,” he says, calling me over.

My stomach drops, hoping this isn’t a goodbye talk. I jog up to them, my heart in my throat. “Hi, Coach. What’s up?”

He scratches the side of his face. “Remember the drug test you guys took after practice yesterday?”

“Um, yeah.”

He pulls out another plastic container. “I’m going to need you to give me another sample. Something happened to yours.”

“Oh,” I say, staring at the plastic container. “Yeah, sure.”

My face heats out of embarrassment. I take the container and head toward the locker room. Miss Lyons follows me all the way there and to the corner where the stalls are. Before I step inside, she says, “Bag?”

I hand it to her. This is the same deal as yesterday, though I didn’t have someone right there to watch me. Miss Lyons doesn’t stare at me while I fill the sample, but she looks off to the side. I don’t care. I have nothing to hide. When I’m done, I set it on the toilet back behind me and finish up, quickly pulling my pants back up. Miss Lyons pulls on a plastic glove and tells me they’re going to run the sample while I’m in gym since they ran everyone else’s last night. Then, she winks at me. “Good luck, Dale. Would it be weird if I tell you I’m living vicariously through you?”

I just stand there, not knowing what to say. We are still in the bathroom stall after all. “Um, thanks.”