Page 85 of The Assist
“Playing next to you these years has been an honor. God willing, I’ll get picked up in the first round, but right now I just want to know my friend is okay. Whatever you need, I’m here, just say the word.”
“What do you say we start with a win out there tonight?”
He smirks. “Guess that depends on the pep talk you gave rook. He ready?”
“I sure as shit hope so,” I mutter as we exit the locker room together.
Sitting on the sidelines during the second half is less weird than I imagined. Or maybe I’m just too glued to the action to feel anything but anxious. I’ve spent very little time on this bench during my college career and never really looked around and enjoyed the view. The way the stadium is filled with blue and yellow, the way the fans are always ready to jump to their feet to defend a bad call or cheer us on. The way one particular girl wrings her hands as she watches me instead of the guys on the floor.
I smirk at her and give her a small nod. Her shoulders visibly relax. I’d give anything to be out on that floor, but the view from the sidelines definitely has its perks. I wonder what she looked like when she watched me play. Did she jump up and down and cheer for me? Did she watch me more than the other guys?
We pull ahead and win the game by two points. Too close for anyone to feel like celebrating.
“What made you decide to come?” Joel asks as we make our way back to the house. Despite Z’s monologue earlier, he’s back to quiet, headphones on and the bass pumping.
“Blair,” I admit. “Chick’s relentless.”
“We owe her. Having you here made all the difference,” Joel says.
And I know just how to repay her.
35
Blair
I stumbleinto the tutor center Monday afternoon a little defeated and a whole lot undercaffeinated. In my first week at the tutor center, I had exactly two students stop by to see me. Honestly, I think those poor souls got bad information and thought I was going to look deep into a crystal ball and uncover top-secret job opportunities with a six-figure salary on a bachelor’s degree education.
I’m trying to remain positive. I know I can help people, but it’s harder than I expected it to be to spread the word about what I’m doing without making it sound hokey. The students who would be up for this type of thing are either hesitant about the benefit of chatting with a peer or simply don’t have time to add another to-do to their schedule. And though no one has said anything, I’m pretty sure people are avoiding me because of the nude photo ordeal. I’d expected laughter or more slimy come-ons, but it’s as if I don’t exist.
Every passing minute is another chance to turn it all around.
Great, now I’m thinking in Tom Cruise movie quotes. Admittedly, I binged all the ones I hadn’t seen over break. It made me feel somehow closer to Wes, which makes me officially pathetic since he spent the entire break avoiding me. Sigh. And I’m now thinking my sighs aloud.
I pull open the library door and hold my head high. I can do this. It’s a brand-new week.
I frown at the line that twists around the main desk and out the door of the tutor center.
Everyone in line is tall and muscular, and each and every one of them looks underwhelmed to be here.
Tanner Shaw gives me a head nod as I study the faces of the guys in line. I know it’s wrong to be hostile for something out of his control, but I still bristle at the sight of him.
I find the start of the line at the doorstep of my tiny makeshift cubicle. Wes is holding the front with the look of a proud boy scout.
Merit badge definitely earned.
“What is this?”
“I owed you for the other night. For lots of things. I’ve given you shit about all this”—he lifts his arms—“but the other night, I guess I realized I needed it more than I knew.”
“So, you brought every jock you know for what? Creative hazing?”
He covers his mouth with a fist. “Admittedly, that’s part of it, but I do think you have some things that could help each one of them. You’re good at this. Better than I gave you credit for. I just wanted to show you I see it now. I get it, and I want to support you the same way you always supported me.”
“Thank you.” I place my backpack down beside my chair and eye the coffee cup on my desk. I pick it up and read the quote scribbled in messy penmanship.Focus. Repetition. Heart.
“Nice touch.”
He beams back at me like a proud pupil. “That’s a Coach Daniels’ special.”
