Page 16 of Stealing for Keeps
Just like he’s done before, he takes his time. He moves quickly, but in control. Right, left, baiting me and trying to get me out of position. But I stick with him.
“Nice, Keller!” Coach Collins calls.
It’s the first time he’s given me any kind of positive feedback, and it distracts me just enough that my reaction time slows, and Vaughn wastes no time in punishing me.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath. I jog to take my place behind Doyle while I wait for my next turn on offense, but Coach moves toward our group.
“Let’s switch things up,” he says. “Keller, you’re fast but sloppy, and you’re too easily distracted. Focus.”
I take in the critique, silently berating myself for stupid mistakes and ready to do better.
“Let’s reverse the order now and get fresh groups,” Coach instructs.
This means that I’m now on offense against Vaughn. It’s my chance for redemption. I take a deep breath as I pass the ball to him. Almost lazily, he passes it back, but then he’s sprinting toward me. I know he’s expecting me to take my time, but instead I go for a straight line past him. I almost make it, but he steals the ball from me at the last second, and I let out another curse.
“Again,” Coach says to me. “Did you have any defenders in Arizona?”
Vaughn kicks the ball back to me. I take my time, but he crowds me and gets a swipe at the ball before I can make my move.
My frustration grows. Coach continues watching with his arms crossed over his chest. He tips his head as if to say, “Keep going until you get it.”
Vaughn looks almost gleeful at my irritation. It fuels me, but I’m dog-tired. I do my best to make him play at my pace just like he did and like I’d done with Doyle, but Vaughn is bigger and faster than the guys I played against in Arizona. He doesn’t fall for shoulder fakes or any other half-assed attempt to trick him. He makes me work. I’m quick to the left and then back right. I keep the ball away from him, kicking it behind me and switching frequently.
“You’ve got to move toward the goal to score, Keller.” Coach sounds exasperated.
Fuck. I know he’s right. It doesn’t do me a lot of good to keep the ball away from him if I never get a clear shot. I’m not going to get an opening, so I decide to make one. I fake hard to the left and then move right. I get the jump on him, but he lowers his shoulder, and the impact of his body colliding into mine sends me to the ground.
I hear some of the guys laughing. Coach blows the whistle. “Take five for water.”
I stay sitting on the ground with my elbows resting on my knees. My jaw hurts from where his big shoulder rammed into me. It could have been an accident, but I doubt it. He knew I had him beat, and he took a cheap shot.
Vaughn kicks the ball up and catches it. “Better luck next time.”
Practice goes downhill after that. Vaughn ices me out, and by the time we’re finished for the day, the rest of the team has noticed and are giving me a wide berth. Only Rowan dares to talk to me.
“Well, that was painful to watch,” he says, falling into step next to me. “You really pissed him off.”
“I don’t understand. This is all over some girl?”
“Notsomegirl. Claire Crawford.”
“What is the big deal? She said he broke up with her.”
“It’s…complicated,” Rowan says as we walk over to the sideline.
“How so?”
“Listen, forget about Claire. It’s not worth going to war with Vaughn.”
“All because I kissed her?” It seems like an extreme reaction, even if she is the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. There’s just something about her. Those eyes. And that hair. And those legs.
Rowan’s voice pulls me from my Claire-obsessed thoughts. “And you all but implied you were into her.”
Did I? That wasn’t my intention, but I am intrigued by her. She was so…something.
“You called her hot,” he says, as if clarifying.
“Well, I’m not blind.” I squirt water into my mouth and then over my head.
