by E. M. Moore
I type out my reply with a smile. Get fucked, Linc. I add the middle finger emoji just for shits and giggles.
You’ve been warned.
Instead of being afraid, my body heats, a wild emotion spiraling out from my core.
I honestly don’t know what to do with that. When it comes to the Ballers, my body’s always been a traitor.
6
My mother isn’t awake yet when I get ready for school the next morning. I even wake up early enough to swim a few laps in the pool and then work on my perimeter shots on the court. On my way down the winding roads to Rockport High, I feel as if I’m on a high. It was nice to stretch my muscles and fall into the familiar routine of basketball, whether my dad’s there or not. My phone buzzes in my backpack on the seat next to me right as I enter town, but I can’t look over at it, so I keep going.
Until I have to stop. Literally.
I try to make a right into the student parking lot at the school, but all five Ballers are there, their arms crossed over their chests as they stare me down. I start to laugh, but then don’t. Instead, I narrow my eyes and pull ahead. They don’t move. I’m only a foot away from them. If I come forward any more, I’m risking hitting one of them. Not that part of me wouldn’t be happy to do so.
Ryan breaks rank and comes toward me. The others fill in behind him, so I can’t even make a break for it if I tried. Not that I would dare to anyway.
I don’t wait for Ryan to get all the way over to me. I throw the car door open and step one foot out. “What the actual fuck?” I cry out, gesturing toward the rest of the Ballers. They’re all smirking now.
“We don’t want you here,” Ryan says coolly, his voice like ice.
“And that’s my problem because…?”
A horn beeps behind us, but I ignore it.
“Take the hint, Dale. Go back to Broadwell.”
“Not happening,” I say, laying my forearm casually over the door of my Mustang.
“Damn,” Lake crows. “Tell Tessa she can park here if she’ll bend over the hood of her car for me.” He makes hip thrusting motions, drawing a chorus of laughs from the crowd.
I give him the middle finger without even looking at him.
“I warned you,” Ryan says.
“Yeah, it was nice to get the texts from you, Ryan. Really sweet. Now, move.”
He moves closer, reaching out to put a few strands of my hair around my ear. My body responds to his touch, shaking a little. Ryan and I have always been wound tight like a rubber band. We’re either at each other’s throats or…
Do not go there, I warn myself.
“No one wants you here.”
“I don’t really care about that. You should know that about me, Linc.”
He crosses his arms again, staring me down as if he knows I’m going to be a big problem. His blond hair is styled in that messy way. His muscles coil and retract from the tension, but it’s his gray eyes that catch on and don’t leave me alone. “I know that you’re a pain in the ass, and I won’t have you fucking up Rockport. It’s my school.”
We’re drawing a crowd again. More people honk. I look around to find that there are quite a number of cars behind me waiting to get into the school. It must be pushing it to first bell. “Come on,” someone shouts. “Get the fuck out of the way.”
Someone else calls out, “Move bitch.”
I don’t know where the insults are all coming from, but I know where the root of them started. From these five right in front of me.
I glance over to find Lake. He isn’t smirking anymore. Nope, he’s looking at me like he’s already undressed every piece of clothing I’m wearing. He licks his lips, making me shudder.
Sloan is dressed in a polo shirt and crisp khaki shorts. He’s the only one who could get away with that here. He looks bored, staring out at the line of cars like he’s already counting the number of registered voters he can gain from this.
Alec’s black hair gleams from the sunshine. His stare collides with mine as soon as I move to look at him. He’s more muscular than the others, perfect for his power forward position. He has elbows made to grab rebounds. I should know, I’ve been on the receiving end a time or two.
Hayes glares down at me. He’s tall for high school. He’s so tall he should be awkward, but he’s not. Instead, he moves like a gazelle. His dirty blond hair falls over his forehead as he makes eye contact with me. Hayes isn’t one to start fights, but he sure as fuck ends one if he needs to. He has a quiet, imposing air about him.
All five of them are having the time of their lives making me squirm, but that doesn’t stop me thinking how incredibly gorgeous they all are. From cruel sexiness to dark beauty, they have it.
“Run along, Dale,” Ryan says, his voice low. “I’ve seen you run before.”
I step out from behind the car door. The others move in around Ryan as I storm right next to him. “You’re an asshole.”
The corner of his mouth quirks upwards. “From what I remember, you liked it.”
The rest of them snicker except for Hayes. He casts a shadow over me that makes me wilt away from him.
“Come on, Academy Bitch. The rest of us need to get to class,” someone shouts.
Then, there’s a cacophony of car horns. I turn my head to see that even more cars have found their way in line. Some people are hanging out windows, throwing their arms in the air at me. More people are shouting now, telling me to move my ass.
None of them want to hear that it’s the Ballers’ fault. They’re the kings, and we’re all just peasants. Or, we’re supposed to be.
I shake my head. “I didn’t realize you guys would be this petty. I’m glad you care where I park.”
“I’d like to park my cock inside her pussy,” Lake says. “You said she was tight, right Ry?”
I whip around, glaring at Ryan. He did not tell them we had sex. That’s a straight up lie.
Ryan sneers. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t put my dick anywhere near her. She’s not good enough for me.”
My jaw locks. I turn around, my face flaming, and head back toward my car. Out of everything they’ve said, that one probably hurt the worst. Once inside, I shut the door only to look out and see that all five are in front of me again. They’re serious about this. I shake my head, check my rearview mirror, then put the car in reverse and back up, giving me some space to turn around. I take a left out of the parking lot, ignoring all the cheers and insults thrown my way. I only catch the Ballers moving aside for the rest of the cars, motioning them inside like they truly do get to decide who goes to the school and who doesn’t.
Once the line going the other way clears, I take a left into the faculty parking lot. It’s clearly labeled that no students are allowed to park there, but where the hell else am I going to park? I’m certainly not just going to go home like they want me to. Not happening.
The warning bell rings just after I shut the car off. I sit back in my seat and stare up at the brick building. So unimposing. If people only knew what goes on inside. I’m not surprised the Ballers get away with this shit. They’re loved all over this town. Free food at the restaurants. Free films at the theater. They’re practically the kings of this town. Part of me is disgusted, the other part of me is a little jealous. I only hope they’ve peaked. As soon as I think it, I know it’s not true though. These guys are damn good. I can’t even bring myself to say they don’t deserve all the accolades they get because they do. That doesn’t mean they’re not shitty humans though.
My phone buzzes again, and I take it out. The messages are from Dawn. WARNING! The Ballers aren’t going to let you park in the lot. That was her first text. The next one just says, you ok?
In response, I shove my car door open and step out, dragging my bag with me. There’s no time for me to go to my locker before homeroom, so I hightail it there instead. I run into the room just as the bell rings. Every single person in the room is staring at me now. It’s not that curious stare they had yesterday, it’s the ‘she’s e
nemy number one’ stare. I walk straight back, trying to ignore them all, but when I get to the seat I sat in yesterday, it’s wrapped in yellow caution tape.
“Funny,” I breathe out.
Snickers ascend over the room. Rolling my eyes, I pull at the tape and wad it up, throwing it on the floor next to me. With the same calm face, I sit only to have a note thrown on my desk.
CAUTION
Note to all Rockport High guys. Don’t fuck Tessa Dale.
She’ll get pregnant on purpose to trap you.
Like mother like daughter.
The area behind my eyes burns as I read and re-read the note. It isn’t the first time I’ve heard some shit like that. Hell, the media likes to bring it up every once in a while. I was five, I think, the first time I had this talk with my parents. They explained to me how the media makes up shit to sell magazines and newspapers.
For the record, my mom didn’t trap my dad. It just took them a while to conceive me: Quintessa Marie Dale. Named because I was born the year my dad got his fifth championship ring.
The raucous laughter all around me as I stare at the note tells me no one else would believe me if I tell them the truth. They’re probably just happy the Ballers are picking on me instead of one of them.
Well, fuck them all.
7
The rest of the day is just like homeroom. Every single one of my chairs in every period is outfitted just like the first one. By the time last period rolls around, I just sit right on the caution tape, wait for the note to get thrown my way, and then flick it off my desk. That wasn’t all of it either. There’s been a note on my locker every single time I stopped by today. There it is in big, bold letters, telling everyone not to fuck me. In the halls, guys give me a wide berth and the girls laugh knowingly. When I pass the bulletin board outside the library, there’s an even bigger sign printed with the same information. I just wonder who let them use one of the faculty printers to print that shit out. The teachers have no semblance of control here. That much is obvious.
Dawn, though, partners with me in gym. We’re in the gymnastics curriculum, so it’s just trying to see what we can do from forward rolls to back flips. Afterward, Dawn follows me out toward the faculty exit, but Vice Principal Holden is standing at the front entry glass doors with his hands crossed over his chest. “Miss Dale,” he starts.
My stomach sinks. I think about all the shit I put up with today and wonder if the Ballers have tried something else, or if I’m somehow going to be blamed for all the crass posters over the entire school.
“You no doubt saw the sign explaining that this entry and this lot is for faculty only, yes?”
My eyebrows draw in.
He lifts his brows expectantly, then turns around to point at my Mustang. “That is your car, isn’t it?”
“Y-yes,” I tell him.
“And did you realize that was the faculty parking lot?”
I go to tell him yes, of course I did, but Dawn elbows me. Instead, I say nothing as his gaze sears into mine.
“Miss Dale,” he says on a sigh. “I, personally, don’t care who your father is. I expect you to follow the same rules as all the other students.”
My face burns. I’ve never once in my entire life used the fact that my father is Timothy Dale to get anything. His insinuation makes my skin crawl. I step forward, my lips pulling back so I can tell him off, but instead, Dawn’s right there. “I’m sure Tessa just didn’t know.”
Fuck that, I want to scream.
“Consider this your warning, Miss Dale, only on the account that it’s your second day of school.”
Dawn tugs on my hand and starts toward the glass doors. I look back to give Mr. Holden one last glare, but instead, a coif of dark hair catches my eye. Alec Christopoulos is standing just outside the vice principal’s office. His lips pull apart in a slow smile, but then he looks away as Holden approaches him. The sight of the two shaking hands is the last thing I see of Rockport High that day.
Dawn and I head out toward my car. Once we’re inside, I mutter, “Fucking assholes.”
“Amen to that. They’ve really got a boner about messing with you. By the way, who the fuck’s your dad and why does Holden give a shit?”
I look over at her. She pulls her seatbelt around, messes with her hair, and then checks her reflection in the mirror on the other side of the sun visor. I’m still looking at her when she turns toward me. “You don’t know?”
“Ummm…” She smiles and looks off to the side. “No. Should I?”
I lean back in the seat, feeling small against the comfy cockpit seating. “My dad’s Timothy Dale.” When she doesn’t say anything, I look back over. She looks as confused as ever. “Timothy Dale,” I say again.
She bites her lower lip. “Sorry?”
I close my eyes. “He’s—”
“A professional basketball player? Yeah, I know,” she says, smacking me in the arm playfully. “Well, at least I do now. I had to look him up on Google during second period after I heard some douche say something about your mom trapping him with a baby at the height of his career. Did you know your dad built the Rockport High Basketball Court? It’s named after him.”
I laugh at her. “Of course, I know. I was fucking here when construction first started, and I was here during the ribbon-cutting ceremony, too.” And many more times after that.
“No wonder why the Ballers hate you.”
I take a deep breath and start the car. Backing out, I head toward town since it sounds like Dawn wants more gossip. “Come again? They hate me because my dad’s a basketball player?”
“No, you dipshit. They hate you because you threaten their masculinity or some other misogynistic shit.” I look over at her, not understanding what she’s saying, and then turn back toward the road.
She points toward the next left. “Let’s go to that ice cream place.”
The place isn’t nearly as far from the school as I want to be, but I figure what the hell. I put my blinker on and wait for traffic to clear.
“Tessa, The Rock Ballers are the it—” She actually uses air quotes. “—boys at school. Now, the daughter of a basketball legend, who’s also really amazing at basketball, waltzes into their town. You disrupted the status quo, and they don’t like that. They want the attention on them.”
“Too bad,” I say. Inside, though, what Dawn says makes a lot of sense. I just thought they didn’t want me here because they don’t particularly like me. I knew they’d be pissed once they learned I was trying out for the team, but I didn’t expect all of this right now. My stomach settles with a resounding freefall. That only means it’s going to get much, much worse. You know that saying, It’s going to get worse before it gets better? I’m not sure this will even get better. Even if I make the team, I don’t know if they’ll accept me.
“You knew these guys before,” Dawn says as I pull into Scoops parking lot. Just beyond the little shack is the athletic fields, the dome of Timothy Dale Court rising above it all. “You must have known you’d get some sort of reaction from them.” Her eyes widen. “You must have huge lady balls, my friend. I’m liking you a lot more now.”
I laugh and then push my car door open. “Come on, let’s get some ice cream.” We order, and I pay while Dawn walks off to the last picnic table. As I walk toward her, I hear the crack of a baseball and then a smattering of applause from the crowd. “Shit. Is that Rockport?” I had no idea they were playing today.
Dawn turns toward me, eyes ablaze. “I have to see Alec in his baseball uniform. I need it, Tessa,” she says again after I give her a look.
“Let me get this straight, you want to ogle one of the guys tormenting me?”
She takes my hand and yanks me toward the fence, heading straight for the third base line bleachers. “It’s not really him doing it. It’s mostly Ryan.”
If she thinks Alec is a saint, she’s mistaken. “Sure, Ryan’s the ringleader, but—”
“I told you it didn’t matter. I do
n’t want to talk or hang out with him. I just want his dick in my—”
I push her to keep her mouth shut. We’re about to pass a mom with a young son who’s bent over at the waist to pick a flowery weed. “Jesus, Dawn. You have such a big mouth.”
She laughs heartily. “All the better to…” She makes a motion of her fist against her mouth, and then laughs so hard I think she’ll faint when my face turns fifty shades of red.
“Just shut up,” I tell her as we climb the bleachers closest to us. We go all the way to the top and away from everyone else. It’s such a beautiful day out that I actually have fun eating my ice cream and watching Rockport. Alec is the only one of the Ballers who plays another sport. Frankly, I’m surprised the rest of them let him. Chance of injury is high, made even more so when participating in this game isn’t even mandatory. A few of the baseball teams in our division, including Rockport, participate in a quarter season that starts in August. It’s to bridge the gap between the previous playoffs and next year’s opener. If Alec gets injured in these games, he won’t have time to recover for basketball.
I look over at Dawn to find her staring at Christopoulos. He’s the third baseman, and we really do have a tremendous view of his ass. “Do you even know what’s going on?” I ask her.
“Does it matter?” she says softly. “I’m looking at sweet perfection.” She finishes her ice cream and then rubs her hands against one another. “You can’t tell me you’re not attracted to that.”
A shiver runs up my spine. I’d have to be blind to not be attracted to that, or any of them. I only second-guess my sanity when they’re being so cruel I can’t stand it.
“Come on,” Dawn says, elbowing me. “You can tell me.”
I look over at her. She’s the only friend I have at Rockport. She might be the only friend I have right now period since I can’t get Tiff to text me back. I look into Dawn’s blue eyes, needing to make sure she’s not messing with me. No, I finally say to myself. There’s no way. Dawn and I met before the Ballers even knew I was attending their high school. She’s safe. “He’s hot. They’re all hot. The problem is they know it.”