Page 69 of The Transfer
“What do you mean, Riggs?” Jake sounds a little pissed. I know he’s protective of Reagan. She’s always been like a daughter to him since he and Lane couldn’t have kids of their own.
“I have to focus on basketball, and after Dad passed, I told her that.”
Lane is shaking her head, covering her mouth. “But she loves you,” she blurts out, and now I’m the one with my mouth hitting the table.
I look over at Jake and my mom, seeing that their facial expressions confirm what Lane just said.
“No, she doesn’t.” The words taste bitter on my tongue, and at first, I can’t figure out why.
But then my mind drifts back to Reagan. My memory is quick to remind me of all she’s done to show how much she cares.
Dancing in my jersey, inviting my family to Thanksgiving, decorating the hospital room at Christmas, taking care of my mom before Dad’s funeral, standing by my side until…
Until I pushed her away.
Reagan Mills. My Sunshine.Does she love me?
My family looks at me with pity as they see me put the pieces together.
“Honey, it’s okay. It’s not too late to tell her how you feel.” This comes from Mom, who is a romantic at her core.
But I’m a realist. What I know is real is that I broke whatever it was between Reagan and me.
And I don’t know if I can get it back.
FIFTY-TWO
REAGAN
It’s ten o’clock, and I can’t sleep. Since reading the letter from Joel and hugging Nora at Senior Night, I have had Riggs on the brain even more than before, so basically all the time now.
I pull open the double doors of the practice gym for the first time since Joel passed away and I started hiding from Riggs. I use my phone's flashlight to locate the wall with all the light switches and start flipping until the area is bright enough for me to see and shoot for a while.
I brought my own ball with me, so as I set the rest of my stuff down, I dribble until I’m at the free throw line. Holding the ball on my hip, I close my eyes and take it in. The court has always been home to me, even if I wasn’t playing on it. A sense of peace washes over me.
I open my eyes, and my head is drawn to the doors I walked through earlier. Standing frozen in place is Riggs.
“I can leave. I shouldn’t be here anyway.” I start to run off the court toward my belongings, but he stops me with one word.
“Stay.”
His voice is like a balm to my aching heart. It’s the one word I have wanted to hear him say since the day he pushed me away. Looking at him, I see he means it, so I nod.
“Okay.”
Then I’m gifted with a smile that I didn’t know I would ever see again.
I walk back over to the free throw line as he dribbles his own ball toward me.
“Congratulations on the win tonight.” That sounded very formal and polite coming out of my mouth.
“Yeah, no thanks to me. I’m sure you’ve noticed my declining stats these last three games.” I have, but I wasn’t going to bring it up.
“It’s just a slump. All players have them. I’m sure you’ll get through it.” It’s true, all players do, but he’s shaking his head like he disagrees.
“I don’t think so. I’ve never been more focused or put more time into my game than I have been since…well, since Dad died. I should be killing it out there, but it’s not happening.
“But enough about me, I saw you with my mom tonight.” He points that out, and I’m not sure if Nora told him about our visit, but I’m guessing not because he looks confused by what he saw.
