Page 6 of The Riley Effect

I shrug, not really sure.

“She’s pretty hot, though,” I rarely talk about girls with my roommates, mainly because there is nothing to discuss. I keep them at arm’s length and end things before anyfeelingscan rear their ugly head.

I turn to answer him as we set the pace on our treadmills, and that’s when I notice that we’re sharing the gym… with the women’s basketball team.

“What do you think about a party tomorrow night?” Marcus asks. “I think Indy said they don’t have practice this weekend.”

That earns Marcus a slap on the back because I really like the idea.

I know, I know, I just promised my uncle I’d calm things down a little, but how wild can a party with the women’s basketball team be?

“Tell Indy to invite the whole team.”

Once Marcus and I shower, we wait for Indy outside her locker room.

Marcus and I are discussing our schedule for the upcoming season when the women’s locker room door starts to open.

“Hey, Ind,” I greet her while Marcus leans in to kiss her. The door opens again, and the fluorescent light acts like a spotlight as Ivy joins us in the hallway.

I can’t help but notice her natural beauty. Her wet hair is slicked back into a bun that rests at the nape of her neck. Unlike a few hours ago when I saw her at the shelter, her face is bare, and reveals freckles that flow over her nose and across her cheeks.

I give Ivy a head nod. “How was your lift?” I ask in Ivy’s direction.

“Fine.”

Okay, so I guess we’re still on a one-word response basis.

Marcus must catch the plea for help in my eyes and resurrects the conversation.

“So,” Marcus takes over, “we are having a party tomorrow, and we thought it would be fun if your team stopped by to celebrate your National Championship.”

As much as I hate that Marcus and Indy never waste a second to shove their relationship down your throat, his pride in speaking about Indy’s accomplishments makes me think it might be nice to have someone to share my life’s big moments with.

Last season, we were riding the bus to the airport after we lost in the playoffs, but you wouldn’t have known we lost if you looked at Marcus. I couldn’t grasp how he could be so happy after what was the most devastating loss of my career.

When Marcus last tried to have a party to celebrate Indy’s big win, we shot him down. I would have rather poured salt in an open wound than celebrate another team winning what I’ve worked for my entire life. But now I’m happy we didn’t because it’s the perfect excuse to have the girls over.

“Babe, are you serious?” Indy gushes. “I’ll talk to the girls, but I’m sure everyone will be there.”

“Are we going to be graced with your presence, Ivy?” I ask.

Indy looks toward her best friend, and they have an entire conversation without uttering a word. “She’ll be there. She promised me she would have some fun this year. Right, Vee?”

“I did.” She murmurs.

Alright, two words. We’re making progress.

4

Jalen

“Give me twenty minutes, and dinner will be ready,” Byron yells from the kitchen as I untie my sneakers and set them by the door.

The smell of Sunday sauce wafts through the house, and that can only mean one thing, Byron’s making my mother’s sauce and meatball recipes. Growing up with an Italian mother from the South and a black father from New York City meant the Holloway household never lacked flavorful food. Personally, I never had much of an interest in cooking, but growing up, Byron spent more time at my house than his own. He was raised by his mom, who worked night shifts at the hospital, and my parentsdidn’t want him to spend so much time alone. So, when he was at my house, Mom taught him how to make meatballs and homemade pasta while Dad helped him perfect his fried chicken recipe.

“How was the shelter?” Aaron asks from the couch. We didn’t get a chance to talk during our training session because I like to split us into groups with different people each time. Then Aaron left with Byron while I waited for the girls with Marcus.

“Fine. Do y’all know anything about Ivy Rhodes?”

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