Page 5 of The Riley Effect

She just gives me a little nod.

“Anything you need while you’re here with us, Jalen, Ivy will help you with. I’ll leave you two to get acquainted.” She turns and leads my uncle out of the room.

I twist the bottom of my braids, waiting for Ivy to give me some kind of instruction. After an awkwardly long lull in conversation, I guess I’ll have to be the one to break the ice.

“So you play basketball? How come I’ve never seen you around before?”

“I’m not sure. I guess we must hang out with different crowds.” She says wryly as she fills the next dog’s food bowl.

I’m distracted when she bends down, and her sweatshirt rides up, exposing a thin layer of skin. I take a moment while she isn’t facing me to check her out without feeling like a creep.

She is absolutely gorgeous. Her caramel-colored hair is pulled in a ponytail, and even with it tied back, it stops in the middle of her back. Her long legs are folded under her as she scoops dog food into bowls she has spread out in front of her. Being six-foot-five, I love a girl with height, and maybe a basketball player is what I’ve been missing all this time.

A black lab struts towards me, and settles himself at my feet. I kneel to pet him.

“What’s this guy’s name?’ I ask Ivy. For the first time since we’ve been left alone, she truly acknowledges my presence. She looks up at me with a smile. Okay, the smile is clearly for the dog.

“This is Elvis. He’s the sweetest boy. All he needs to be happy is treats and belly scratches.” He rolls over, and Ivy and I both reach down toward his belly at the same time. Our hands graze, and Ivy pulls away like she’s going to catch some kind of STD just by touching my hand.

“Should we make some kind of schedule? I know we both have seasons starting soon?” Ivy asks a little too professionally for my liking.

“Sounds good to me. Give me your phone, we should probably have each other’s numbers.”

You would think I was Ted Bundy with how reluctant she is to give me her phone. After I save my number, I text myself, so I have hers, too. Still curious about why I haven’t seen her, I rephrase the question I asked when I first got to the shelter.

“Did you transfer here? I haven’t seen you around the Riley Center before.” Her glare doesn’t soften, but this time she does answer my question.

“No, I didn’t transfer here,” she says harshly. Her light brown ponytail sways as she turns towards me, nearly hitting her in the face. “I just don’t waste my weekends getting drunk in unfinished basements.” I press my hands to my chest, pretending her words have wounded me.

“A few weeks with me, and I think we can change that.”

No response. Instead, she turns to continue feeding the dogs. I can’t remember the last time a girl was so indifferent to me. I kind of like it.

I had to rush out of my meeting with Ivy to prepare for a team lift. We have a few weeks before official workouts start, but I’ve been holding captain-run activities since the semester started. Making sure the freshmen are getting acclimated to college life and the upperclassmen followed the summer training program is extremely important to giving us the best shot at winning as a team. The team might find it overbearing, but I have one last shot at winning a championship.

I’m in a daze as I move toward my locker, still astonished that I hadn’t met Ivy before this afternoon. Granted, the hockey and women’s basketball teams don’t normally run in the same circle.

I’m pulling my shirt over my head when I remember Marcus’— my roommate and teammate for the last three years—girlfriend is on the basketball team.

When I enter the athletic center lobby, Marcus is tying his thick black curls into a bun, waiting for the rest of the team before going into the weight room.

“Marcus, is that you?” I squint my eyes, pretending to be looking at a mirage in the distance. Marcus West has lived with Aaron, Byron and me since we moved into our house two years ago, but I don’t think I’ve seen him in a week. He’s spent every free moment he’s had with his girlfriend trying to make up for the time they won’t have once games start.

“Stop being an ass,” he practically screams at me over the music playing in the gym. “when you get yourself a girl, you’ll appreciate having somewhere to stay that doesn’t smell like weed and stale beer.”

“Yeah, okay.” I snark as I bend over to tie my shoes. Marcus heads down the hall to the student athlete exclusive weight room.

“Hey, do you know Ivy Rhodes? She’s on Indy’s team, right?” I ask once I catch up with him.

“Yeah, they’re roommates too. Why?”

“My uncle is making me volunteer at the animal shelter. That psycho punching me last week was his last straw.” I tried to argue that I was punched and didn’t retaliate. I thought that should be rewarded, but he wouldn’t set that example for everyone else to learn from.

“Ivy is a pre-vet major. I think working there is part of their curriculum.”

We walk toward the row of treadmills to warm up before the rest of the team gets here.

“She’s pretty mellow,” he continues, “really focused on school and ball. You know she runs the program that brings Riley to games. How haven’t you noticed her before?”

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