Page 13 of The Riley Effect

I’m mentally kicking myself for reminding him of the date he’s made no mention of.

“So you do remember our little bet. I was worried that’s why you were avoiding me.”

“You’re right. I was avoiding you.” I answer, a little too truthfully. I don’t have the energy to lie about something so obvious.

If he is taken aback by my honesty, his face shows no hint of it. “Well, I wasn’t going to forget. Especially after seeing your ass in the bodysuit.”

Right when I’m starting to have a tinge of remorse for thinking Jalen was just this shallow athlete, he makes a dumb comment like that.

He expects some sarcastic comments to fly out of my mouth, but I’m stunned into silence. Just the mention of that night changes the entire dynamic between us.

“We both start official practices this week, so I was thinking I could take you out next Saturday.” He says as he sets each dog by their beds and unclips their leashes.

The first week of practice is known as hell week. Coach Lee likes to see who took the offseason training plan seriously and who’s going to puke in the bathroom after the trial. Little basketball will be played; instead, it is spent running 17s and squatting during defensive drills. A night out after could be fun.

I tug my bottom lip between my teeth, unsure. But when I finally let myself meet Jalen’s eyes it’s his confidence that has me saying, “Saturday sounds good.”

Every free Sunday I’ve had since I started at Westvale, I have spent time at my sister’s house. I have dinner with Ruby and her two kids, Caleb, who is eight, and Stella, who just turned five. My sister’s husband tragically passed away a couple of years ago in a car accident, and knowing the pain of losing a parent, I’ve always prioritized these dinners. Ruby has spent fourteen years worrying about me. While her friends were finishing college and getting drunk on random Wednesday nights, she was carting me to Girl Scouts and sleepovers. Never making me question her love for me. And when Darek came into her life, he accepted me as his own without any hesitation. He was one of the best men I’ve ever met. My sister and I have been through a lot, but she has shown me how to love someone unconditionally and how light can come out of some of the darkest times.

Besides Lola, Indy and Coach Lee, nobody knows what happened to my parents or why I threw myself feet first into my schoolwork when I got to Westvale. The sacrifices my sister made so I didn’t get placed in some random foster home is something I’ll never forget. I want to be successful so I can give her and the kids the comfortable life they deserve.

As I walk up her driveway, the aroma of fresh pizza fills the air. I follow it to the backyard where Ruby and her family built a pizza oven a few years ago. When I reach the backyard, I stop when I see my nephew, taking in his innocence as he eyes the toppings in various bowls, contemplating what he should add to the stack of pepperoni that currently decorates his pizza.

“Did you save any dough for me?” I clap my hands excitedly to get his attention.

“Aunt Ivy!” Both kids scream in unison. Stella stands so quickly her plastic lawn chair flips over.

“We are making your favorite because you start your practices next week.” She tells me matter of factly. Her smile takes up her entire face when I pick her up and squeeze her tight. “Owww, you’re hurting me,” escapes her mouth in an exaggerated scream.

I lower Stella and walk over to Caleb to kiss him on the top of his head. I laugh when he arranges the toppings into a smiley face.

“Hey, sis, how was your week?” I ask Ruby as she takes a pizza out of the oven. After placing the pizza on the table, she gives me a hug.

“It was good. I love having the kids back in school and in their activities. It gives me a chance to breathe.” She laughs, but I can see how tired she is. The dark circles under her eyes are a dead giveaway. She is the definition of a super mom and has been since she became the mom of an eight-year-old at twenty-one.

After dinner, I stand at the sink with my sister to dry the dishes as she washes them. This is my favorite part of the week because it’s the only time I am guaranteed one-on-one time with my sister. The kids go wash up for bed, so we normally aren’t interrupted.

“Anything new with you?” She asks like she does every week. Normally it’s the same oldnothing’s new, but this week I need her advice.

I hesitate for a second, nervous to tell my sister about my date with Jalen next week. Ruby and I are opposites in a lot of ways. I refuel by curling up with a new book and spending time alone, and she refuels by going out with friends and drinkingenough margaritas for the table. She is the life of every party, and I hate attending them.

When I tell her about my date, I know she’ll build it up into something it’s not. Jalen isn’t my happily ever after, this is literally one dinner, and then he’ll go on and do whatever it is that fuck boys do.

“What aren’t you telling me?” She snaps her head so she is facing me. I swear she is some kind of mind reader. “You’ve never been good at keeping things from me. You might as well spit it out.” As badly as I want to dispute her accusations, I can’t.

I place the plate I was drying on the counter and start the story from the beginning. How Jalen got in trouble, and now Mr. Holloway has him volunteering at the shelter. I tell her about the party he and Marcus had to celebrate our National Championship. The story ends with how strip beer pong led to our date next Saturday.

“I just want to make sure I have all the details. My straight-laced sister goes to a party, loses a game of beer pong with no pants on, and now has to go on a date with the hockey team’s hot bad boy.”

I shrug at the simplified retelling of last week. It sounds so ridiculous.

“This is good for you,” she says in her motherly tone. She puts the dish back in the sink and guides us to the kitchen table. “I’m always telling you to have some fun. Going out twice a semester isn’t having a normal college experience. Let yourself have some fun this last year. You deserve to be a normal twenty-one-year-old. You have the rest of your life to be an adult.”

I sit tucking my feet under myself so I’m sitting on my heels. My sister is right. I’m not sure I want to look back forty years from now and have no stories to tell my children. Instead of telling them about the crazy parties I attended, I would have to tell them about my study group that met every Tuesday.

This isn’t the life my sister wants me to live. She never enforced a curfew or told me I couldn’t hang out with my friends or spend time with my high school boyfriends.

My sister’s eyes meet mine, and I give her a slight nod. Silently telling her I agree.

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