Page 42 of The Transfer
We all cheer, and the girls walk out. They all have flat bill CTU hats, letterman jackets, black leggings, and the sweetest Space Jam Jordans on their feet. I’m not really looking closely until Carter slaps my shoulder. “Riggs, is that Rea out there?”
“No. Absolutely not,” Jordan says. “She hasn’t danced since high school. Remember, they always ask her to do this with them, and she says no.”
“Uh…” I start, “J, that is for sure Reagan.” I can pick her out of any crowd. She is out there with the dance team, lined up front and center.
“What is happening?” Jordan asks. He looks confused, not because she is dancing, but because he was left in the dark about it. He takes pride in knowing everything about Reagan. He looks at me with a narrowing glare. “Did you know about this?”
Throwing my hands in the air, I shake my head. “I had no idea. But all of you shut up. I want to see what this is all about.” I have never seen Reagan dance, but I know she did for a long time.
The music starts, and my eyes are glued to the beauty in the middle. Her eyes sparkle when she sees me and winks.
I am not an expert on dance moves or anything like that. All I know is that they form a V, and Reagan is strutting toward me with all the confidence in the world. Her body moves effortlessly, and I am sucked in. They pause for a moment and start their routine. “Pretty Girl Rock” mashed with “All the Pretty Girls” pumps through the speakers, and everyone is going crazy. First thing to go is her hat. She tosses it rightto me. I think she has me under a spell because I am speechless and can’t move.
As the chorus ramps up, they each rip off the letterman jackets and toss them aside. She starts turning to the opposite stand, and my jaw hits the floor. Every girl has a jersey on for one of the players. Reagan Mills is wearing my last name and number, and I have never seen anything sexier. Hart and #15 are right in front of me as the song ends.I think I like that, maybe a little too much.
Everyone stands up and cheers as I rise to my feet. The guys on the team are flipping out over who's wearing whose jersey.
Reagan runs off the court straight into my arms. She gives me a big hug, and I squeeze her back. Not wanting to read too much into this, I don’t say anything.
“What did you think, Point Guard?” Rea whispers in my ear. Chills erupt all along that side of my body.
“That was incredible dancing. I don’t think I’ve seen anything better. You look good in that jersey, Sunshine,” I say back. She has a megawatt smile on her face, and I’m sure my answering grin matches.
I take a deep breath, knowing that her performance tonight means I haven’t completely lost her…yet.
True to his word,Jordan beats me in the 3-point shooting contest by one basket. I bested him in free-throw shooting, which he pretended didn’t bother him, but I know it did. Carter absolutely destroyed everyone in the dunk contest. It’s like the man studied up on the early 2000s Vince Carter videos because he was doing things that seemed impossible.
The 3-on-3 was no contest because Jordan, Carter, and I were a force to be reckoned with. The rest of the guys were out to have fun, but the three of us were focused on winning. That competitive drive will serve us well throughout the season.
Everyone has had a great time, and the fans are excited for the scrimmage that will start in five minutes. I can feel the energy ramp up.
“Excuse me, everyone.” I hear Reagan’s voice on the microphone as she stands at half-court, and a few whistles start. She is gorgeous in my jersey. I don’t want her to take it off. Ever.I really have to stop with these thoughts.
She waits until they quiet down. “As y’all know, we donate the proceeds of Titans Give Back to a different cause each year.” She looks right at me, and I see the tears forming in her eyes. I don’t know what’s going on, but I smile back, encouraging her to continue.
“We are donating this year’s proceeds to pancreatic cancer research to highlight and honor the fight that one of our own is facing right now. I want to recognize Joel Hart and his family.”
I am blown away. She arranged all of this for my dad. For me. My teammates push me to stand, and I go over and help my parents, who are just as shocked as I am. Mom walks beside us as I push Dad’s wheelchair to the center court. As the crowd cheers, we are all moved to tears. My mom pulls Reagan into a hug, whispering something into her ear.
Her dad takes the microphone. “I want to also announce that I will personally be matching the donation tonight. We have officially raised $10,000 for pancreatic cancer.” My mom bursts into sobs. Mr. Mills hugs her and gives my dad a handshake as he rises from his wheelchair, quickly hugging each of us before settling back down.
As I walk my parents off the court, Everett and Reagan follow us. They sit down with Mom and Dad to watch the scrimmage. Before running over to my teammates, I introduce my parents to her.
“Reagan, Mr. Mills, these are my parents, Joel and Nora Hart. Mom, Dad, this is Reagan and Everett Mills.” I blow out a breath because I have never introduced my parentsto a girl, ever.
“It’s so nice to meet y’all, officially,” Reagan says with a beautiful smile lighting her face.
Mom chimes in first, “It’s so good to meet you too, honey. We have heard a lot about you.” Dad laughs at that, and I groan.
“Is that so?” Reagan says with a cheeky grin, looking my way.
“On that note…I’m going to go stretch.” And I bound off to where the rest of the guys are warming up.
I notice Reagan and her dad talking with my parents, laughing and smiling. She fits in with them.
What about Cole?I shake off the thought and focus on basketball.
Coach announces it's time to start the scrimmage. The energy in the building has been building to this point. It explodes and fuels us to put everything into the game.
