by E. M. Moore
He smirks. His voice is low when he talks next, but it reverberates around the room with finality. I have no doubt everyone in the room hears it, whether they’re standing right next to us or all the way in the back. It’s only a matter of time before this gets through the whole school. “Tessa Dale is a nobody. She doesn’t exist. Period.”
Ryan’s the first to leave, not even giving me a second glance. Everyone files out after, Lake even slamming his shoulder into mine. One-by-one, everyone else disperses too. It feels like everyone files out right in front of me, none of them giving me the time of day. Lake’s not the only one to act as if they don’t see me standing right there either. Several run right into me, including the girl who hung off Ryan as soon as he walked in. “Welcome to Rockport High, bitch,” she sneers.
4
The rest of the school day ends exactly like I think it will. I am invisible. But not in the way I wanted to be. I wanted to slip by unnoticed. Now, everyone notices me, but they make a point to either go out of their way to ignore me or slice hateful glances right through me. I guess being invisible is only fun when it’s on your terms. It’s far lonelier when everyone goes out of their way to make sure you know you don’t exist.
I practically run out of the school, not even bothering to grab homework or books from my locker. I can still feel Ryan’s steel eyes on me from earlier in the cafeteria. It’s like he branded me. My head is so filled with him that I don’t automatically see Dawn until she stands from the hood of my car. She whistles. “You sure landed on the wrong side of things.”
She startles me, my heartbeat kicking up a notch before I notice that it’s just her. She didn’t ignore me in gym. She didn’t talk to me at all, but she didn’t go out of her way to ignore me either. Then again, I was trying to ignore everyone, so I wouldn’t have been the best company either.
She walks around to the passenger side of the car and looks expectantly over at me as she tugs on the door handle. “Come on, bitch. If you think I’m going to let a whole day go by without you spilling your guts, you’re wrong.” She smiles to let me know she’s joking.
I move forward, unlocking the car. Dawn slips in the other side easily, dropping her bookbag in between her legs on the floor. She looks around the interior, eyebrows slightly raised. I clear my throat. “How’d you know this was my car, anyway?”
She turns toward me with an incredulous stare. “Broadwell,” she says. “I’m new here and even I know that screams rich bitch.”
I look around the parking lot even though I already know what I’ll find. Yes, my Mustang is the best car in the parking lot, but, it’s not the only nice car in the parking lot. There’s the Jeep from earlier this morning. Most likely Sloan Ivy’s car. His dad’s a senator. They make him go to Rockport to prove a point—and also because he deserves to play for the best team in the state. He easily could go to Broadwell though.
Starting the car, I ease out of the parking lot. It’s not my imagination when I see everyone looking at me instead of my car like this morning. “You sure you want to hang out with me?”
Dawn laughs. “No one scares me.”
I smirk, then rev the engine like I accidentally did this morning, peeling out of the lot. I figure, if they’re going to stare, I might as well give them something to look at.
Dawn rolls the window down and screams out, “Yesssss!”
I’m laughing by the time we hit the streets to the small town. Down in this area, they have the mom and pop stores and family-owned restaurants. It’s actually quite quaint—nice—but I also don’t miss the gold and blue colors of Rockport High everywhere.
Dawn points to a small pizza place. “There,” she says.
I frown at her. “I had pizza for lunch, remember?” I pull into the angled parking in front of the shop anyway. We both hop out, and I grab my wallet from out of my bookbag before heading toward the front door. I look around. Students are just now cresting the hill walking toward this way. “Is this a local hangout?”
She shrugs. “Fuck if I know. I’m new, remember?” Dawn sees my hesitation, so she comes around and pushes my back. “Come on. If there’s anything I know about bullies, it’s that you can’t let them see that you’re scared.”
“I’m not,” I say automatically.
We walk inside as she gives me the ‘yeah, right’ look. The truth is, I’m not scared of what the Ballers will do to me. My fear comes from another place all together.
Dawn and I order a couple slices each. I also ask for a couple of garlic knots and two fountain drinks before we find a booth in the corner and sit. Once we’re situated, Dawn takes a huge bite of her pizza. “Alright, spill, new girl.”
I’d shrug, but she looks like she won’t let up if I decide to hold back from her. She reminds me of a dog with a bone. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything, but start with how the hell Ryan fucking Linc knows who you are.”
The color drains from my face. I stare at my pizza, surprisingly coated with the same amount of oil as the one from the cafeteria, and sigh. “It’s—”
“If you say it’s a long story, I think you should know that I’m not above hitting people, even new friends.”
I look up at her, and she winks. “Fine,” I say. “Ryan Linc—and the rest of the Ballers—all know me from basketball camp.”
She takes a bite out of a garlic knot. “That’s the sport you play?”
I nod, and she motions with her hand to keep going. I don’t know exactly what to say to her from here though. There’s no way I’m going to tell her how they humiliated me at camp a couple summers ago. That’s not happening. That’s going with me to the grave. I shrug. “We kind of have a rivalry, I guess you could say.”
“Broadwell and Rockport?”
I shake my head. “More than that. Ryan and me, I mean. You see, we’re both really good. There can be only one winner and all that.”
Her face lightens, and she looks at me with a new appreciation.
“It’s stupid,” I say with an eye roll. “Ryan and I don’t even play the same position. It’s Lake who—”
“Wait. So you guys played against one another? They don’t split you up into girls’ team and boys’ team?”
And here’s the kicker of it all. “No,” I tell her. “Not at this camp. It’s invite only. Only the best of the best go.” I conveniently leave out that my dad’s been running the camp since I was a kid. Of course, he’s only taken on a more active role since he retired from playing professionally.
“Shit, Tessa,” she says, clearly impressed now. “I thought it was weird when you started talking about using food as fuel earlier, but I guess you’re just…dedicated?” She says the last part like a question, almost as if this topic of conversation is so outside her normal routine that she’s unsure of herself.
“Dedicated is a good word,” I tell her.
“You’re really that good?”
My face flushes. The athlete in me wants to just say yes. Yes, I am. But if Dawn is the only one who will talk to me, I’d rather not turn her off by seeming full of myself. If the Broadwell Academy membership card hasn’t scared her off, that might tip her over the edge. “I’m…decent,” I end with finally.
“Sounds like an answer someone would give if they were awesome.”
I shrug. “How about this? You can make your decision when you see me play.”
She smiles, but then the color drains from her face. “Shit. Tessa. There’s no girls’ basketball team at Rockport. Not that I usually know these things, but I do remember hearing someone say that once.”
I tamp down on the anger rising inside me. I’ve heard too much bullshit lately on girls’ sports teams that I could fucking scream. “Oh, I know.”
She cocks her head. “So…how am I going to see you play?”
“Because I’ll be playing right beside The Rock Ballers.”
Dawn stills for a moment. Then, she chokes. She fumbles for her bottle of water as her face tur
ns red. I go to stand, but she holds up a finger as she gulps water down. As soon as she downs all of it and swallows a couple of times, she turns wide eyes toward me. “What?!”
I smile at her. “I’ll be playing Rock basketball this season.”
She blinks at me. “On the boys’ team?”
I nod.
“The one with Ryan? Who looks like he hates you?”
I squirm at that, but I try not to show it. Instead, I just nod.
“Holy shit,” she says. After a moment of staring at me, she continues with, “I’m so glad I asked you to sit with me at lunch today. My life just got so much more interesting.”
I burst out laughing. Let’s hope she keeps thinking that because I know what happened in the cafeteria with Ryan today is only the beginning of things to come. Things will get much, much worse.
5
After a long talk with Dawn, I take her home to a single-story ranch on one of the side streets in town. Hearing her backstory about living in the big city, I know she’s proud of where her and her parents have ended up. I also now understand her advice about not backing down in the face of a bully. At least I don’t have to worry about getting stabbed in the halls of Rockport. At least, I think I don’t. Ryan and The Rock Ballers are ragey assholes, but they wouldn’t want to ruin their potential future careers. They’re usually content with verbal and emotional abuse.
The drive to the top of the cliffs seems arduous. The sun is still out and high in the sky, so sunglasses are a must as I take the curves in the road with caution. My dad bought me this car when I turned sixteen. What can I say, it’s my baby.
I pull it around to the front door once I drive up the private road. I get out and stroll in. I haven’t received any texts from my mom yet, so it’s possible she doesn’t notice I’m late getting home. It’s also possible she went back to bed after I left and hasn’t been up since.
As soon as I step in the door, I know all of that is wrong. My mother’s terse, high voice rings shrilly through the house.
I roll my eyes and try to run up the stairs before she notices me, but her words make me stop, my right foot on the bottom step. “Oh Christ, Tim. Now you’re worried about where she goes to school?” There’s a pause, and she laughs. “You know how to fix this then, don’t you? How about you reinstate your fucking donation for sports activities at Broadwell?”
My stomach squeezes. Before I know it, I’ve dropped my bag, and I’m headed toward the sound of my mother’s voice. I find her laying back on the leather sofa, the chair reclined all the way. Her eyes are closed, and she’s rubbing her temples as she listens to whatever my father is saying on the other end. I can almost hear his voice he’s shouting so loud. I can pick out the word “money” straight away.
It’s his same old excuse. I don’t even hate my dad for it. My mom doesn’t understand why. Sometimes, neither do I.
“You’ll have to ask her what she’s doing about basketball, Tim.” She says his name like a curse.
The floor creaks underneath me. Her eyes pop open, and she locks eyes with me. She did dress for the day, so there’s that. She’s in a pair of joggers and a loose-fitting shirt. At least it’s not her bathrobe. However, her face is drawn and tired. It’s amazing how things have changed in this house. I’d barely ever heard my parents’ fight before they decided to separate, now that’s all they do.
“She’s right here,” she says. “You can ask her yourself.”
She holds out her phone to me, but I take a step back and shake my head.
Her hand falls to the armrest. “Dad wants to know what you’re doing about basketball.” She looks at me expectantly.
I take a step back again. This is where I’m putting my foot down. He wanted to withdraw his usual donation to Broadwell on account of them trying to split the assets, fine. My mom refuses to make the donation on account sports aren’t her thing. Also, fine. The result, however, is not fine. No Dale donation means no girls’ sports, including the girls’ basketball team.
I don’t think either one of them truly understand what that did to me.
My mom shakes the phone at me, but I pull away, my head filled with Plan B that I had to figure out. I find my bookbag at the bottom of the steps and pick it up. Inside the living room, I hear my mom sigh. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.” He must ask why, because she shouts, “I don’t know, Tim. Maybe she just doesn’t want to talk basketball with you.”
My dad of all people should know what I’m feeling. Maybe he underestimates me. Maybe he really doesn’t understand what no basketball would mean for me. I refuse to believe he thinks a girl’s basketball career isn’t as worthwhile as a male’s. I won’t even let myself think it because if that’s the case, he can go to hell. Sure, I can’t play in the NBA, but thankfully, there’s the WNBA now for women’s professional basketball. That’s my aim, and I won’t let anyone take it away from me.
I throw my bag down at the foot of my bed and topple backwards onto the plush mattress. I look up, catching the sun’s rays from the window. Just outside that pane of glass is a full-size basketball court. The hours my dad and I have spent out there together must be astronomical. It’s where I learned all the fundamentals from one of the greats himself.
My eyes prick. My dad can’t think less of me because I’m a girl playing basketball. He just can’t. But if he does, I’m going to show him—and everyone else with the same opinion—that they’re dead wrong.
I hear my mom’s footsteps coming up the stairs before I see her silhouetted in my door frame. “Your dad’s mad. Expect a call or text from him later.”
I shrug, my shoulders rubbing against my bed pillows.
“How was school?”
Ryan’s angry face flashes in front of my eyes. “Fine.”
She comes over and lays her hand on my calf. “You can always go back to Broadwell. I’m sure Tiff and Andrew will be happy to have you back.”
I don’t bother telling my mother again that I broke up with Andrew. “I want basketball, Mom.”
She sighs. “I can try the board again.”
I shake my head. “Rockport’s got the best basketball team in the state. I’m better off there.”
“Assuming they let you on the team,” she says, her voice quiet.
I’ve already thought this all through. Unlike Broadwell, who has a board that determines everything, Rockport’s a public school. They have to agree to take me on the team. As long as I can prove I belong. “I’ll make it.”
“But—”
I lean up on my elbows. “We’ve talked about this already, Mom. They let that girl wrestler on the boys’ team a couple years ago. There’s nothing in their by-laws that state a girl can’t be on the team. The only thing I have to do is make the team. They can’t tell me no. Not like Broadwell.” According to their ancient board of directors, it’s just not proper to have a female playing for the male team. I’ve got a middle finger to give them the next time I see any one of their old, wrinkly asses.
“I just want you to be happy,” my mom says. “One of us deserves to be.”
My heart rips down the middle. I wish she’d stop saying shit like that. “You’ll be happy again.”
“Your father—” She stops herself from complaining any further. For the most part, they’ve tried to keep me out of it. It definitely hasn’t happened, but they’ve tried.
“How did Dad know I started at Rockport anyway?”
She scoffs. “One of the administrators probably called him. Who knows? You know they all love him there.” She looks away wistfully. I understand the look on her face. It’s a whirlwind being caught up in Timothy Dale’s shadow. You almost feel like you’re great yourself. Almost. But then everyone who’s cheering and smiling leaves with him. “I tried to get him to pledge the money again, but he won’t. He tells me it should come out of the split assets.”
My mom isn’t leaving the marriage a pauper, believe me. She’ll make out well, if that’s what she’s interest
ed in. It’s not. She loves my dad. That’s why she’s so broken up about it. The whole Broadwell thing is just a sticking point for the both of them. “Don’t worry about it, Mom. I’m going to Rockport now. No harm done.”
She squeezes my leg. “I’ll do it, Tess. I’ll make the donation if you want me to. They’ll reinstate the team. You can be captain again.”
I sit all the way up. “Honestly, Mom. It’s better this way. No one will be interested in coming to see the Lady Knights play. But, Rockport’s a whole other story.”
“Don’t I know it,” she says.
The Rockport Warriors are a legacy team my father started. Yes, he was just that good in high school, too. The five championship rings and the building of the Timothy Dale Court at his alma mater came later though. If I want name recognition for me, this is how I’m going to get it.
She pats my leg, and then stands. “I’ll go figure out something for dinner.”
The mounds of grease I’ve had today are already not sitting well with me. “I don’t think I can eat,” I tell her truthfully. “I met a friend, and we went somewhere after school.”
Her face brightens, and I at least feel good that I’m able to give her a little relief about me changing schools.
My phone buzzes in my backpack. She stares down at it, then steps toward the door. “That’s probably your dad.”
She walks away, and I crawl forward to grab my phone out. I’m actually hoping it’s not my dad. I hope it’s Tiff. The number I see on the screen doesn’t ring a bell with me though. I open the text message up, and glare down at the screen in shock.
You sure you really want to do this, Dale? Rockport’s my domain.
That motherfucker got ahold of my cell number. I changed it after that summer at camp. Hell, he probably asked the school secretary and she gladly handed it over to him.