by E. M. Moore
She looks over at me, but I can still hear my name ringing in my ears. My dad’s mad about what I did. My throat burns. The area behind my eyes ache, but I won’t give into the temptation to cry.
“Ice cream?” Dawn asks. “My treat.”
I nod and start the car again. “No baseball game this time.”
“You got it.” She says it so quickly I wonder if her infatuation with Alec is over, or if she just feels so bad for me there’s no way she would subject me to do anything that might push me over the edge today.
I hope both is true. Alec doesn’t deserve her. At the same time, I know I’m being somewhat hypocritical. None of the Ballers deserve me, but that doesn’t mean I stop thinking about being part of their inner circle. For some reason, I’ve always felt like I was meant to be there. I’ve just now found the strength enough to pursue it, even if I have to force it down their throats.
12
As has become our routine, I pick Dawn up on the way to school and then park a block away. The air is getting cooler. This shit about parking further away just because I’m not allowed in the student parking lot is going to get old really quick. My calves ache as we make the trek. I practiced layups this morning right before breakfast. I know the shit that’s coming, and I want to be as prepared as possible. No one is going to make tryouts easy on me. Not that I would expect them to, but I have a sinking suspicion they’re going to be extra hard this year. I need to be in topnotch shape, which is why I told Dawn no more ice cream until I make the team. You would have thought I told her her kitten died.
When I walk through the school this morning, there seems to be a new dynamic. People are looking at me like I’ve piqued their interest. In the middle of the main hall, there’s a banner with all three potentials names on it. A surge of pride makes all the aching in my calves disappear. Some guys even say hey as we pass in the hall. It makes my skin warm, and I can only hope the era of me being looked at like I’m shit is gone. I usually save anxiety for game day, but being at RHS with these assholes means every day is riddled with it.
“Homecoming is tonight,” Dawn says as we turn the corner toward my locker. I know somewhere deep inside, she was truly hoping Alec would ask her. Now that she’s chosen sides, there’s no chance in hell of that happening.
“So I see,” I tell her, looking at all the signs that suddenly went up overnight. Before, there was nothing but sign-ups signs, but now that that’s over with, we can talk about the dance tonight and the football game tomorrow. It seems so odd that most other schools are obsessed with football. At RHS, football is basketball’s ugly stepsister. The team isn’t even that bad here. I mean, they’re not good, but they’re not terrible either.
“I’m going to ask someone today,” she says.
I swing my gaze toward her for a second. “Yeah?” My stomach turns when I think she means Alec. That’s who she’s talked about since I’ve known her. “Who?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I just don’t want to go alone, you know?” When I don’t say anything, her eyes widen. “You do plan on going, don’t you?”
I honestly hadn’t thought about it. I’ve only had a one-track mind since I got here. Basketball, basketball, basketball…Rock Ballers.
“I’ll make the answer easy for you,” she says, raising her eyebrows in a challenge. “Your answer is yes.”
She looks like she means business, so I nod. Of course I’ll do this for her. She’s practically my only friend. Tiff still hasn’t written me back, and not that I expected to hear anything from Andrew, I kind of thought I would.
As we get to my locker, I have to double-check the number. There’s a note taped to the outside. I pick it up and read over what’s written on the inside. It’s addressed to Tessa or else I would’ve sworn someone left it on the wrong locker. It reads, Saw you yesterday. I’m impressed. Meet me by the corner stairwell after lunch?
It’s definitely written in a male’s chicken scratch handwriting. When I look over at Dawn, she’s biting her lower lip with wide eyes. It looks as if she’s about to burst with excitement. I have to admit, I feel a bit of relief that maybe things are starting to die down here. A guy wants to meet me by the stairwell? I can’t help but beat back the butterflies as they make themselves known again.
“It was the skirt,” Dawn says, referencing the outfit I wore yesterday for sign-ups. “Not to mention that you looked sexy as fuck when you signed that sheet yesterday. He was probably there. Guys say they don’t like overly confident girls, but they do.”
She’s forgetting one key point. “If he was there, he saw the Ballers eyeing me like they wanted to pound me into the earth. This guy wouldn’t dare ask me out. You know they run the school, and they’ve already told everyone to stay away from me.”
“Maybe people are getting sick of their shit.” She just shrugs when I eye her. “What?” she challenges me again. “They can’t seriously think they’ll run the school forever. I’m telling you. Something changed yesterday when you signed that sheet. Everyone knew they wouldn’t want you to and you just did it anyway.”
“I’m not scared of them,” I tell her, and I’m not. Really. “They can’t possibly do any worse to me than they already have.”
She takes the note from my hands and reads it again. “Exactly. Maybe the guy saw you and feels the same way.”
I narrow my gaze at her. “You don’t strike me as the ‘believe in fairy tales’ type.” Maybe a Cinderella in biker clothes, but…
“Are you kidding me? We moved here so we could get the house with the white picket fence. If that doesn’t say fairy tale, what does?” She stops for a minute. “Oh, right. I forgot who I was speaking to. Miss I have a pool and a full basketball court.”
I relive yesterday when we both heard my parents fighting. I knew how bad Dawn wanted to see my house, which was why I wanted to take her. At this point, who knew when she’d be able to come over. By the time I got back home though, there was no evidence of anything happening. Not even my father. Or my mother for that matter. She’d went to bed early, not bothering to ask me about Sign-Ups, though I suppose she got the gist of that from my father.
“Sorry,” Dawn says. She looks at the ground and hikes her backpack higher on her shoulder.
“Don’t worry about it,” I tell her. Then, I shove the note in my locker and grab my things for the day.
Homeroom and the first few periods are filled with my flaming red cheeks. Guys are outright staring at me. I’ve tripped four times already because I feel like I’m in the spotlight for some reason. And because I don’t have a jersey on, it feels out of place. Wrong even. I’ve always tried to keep a low profile because of who I am. I’ve never wanted things handed to me. I’ve never wanted any special attention. Hell, I’ve gone so far as to leave my last name off things just because I didn’t want better treatment than others. I even asked my parents if I could change my last name after camp once when the snide remarks got really bad.
I take slow and careful steps to the lunch table that has now become mine and Dawn’s regular spot. The Ballers are already at their table, and I don’t want to trip and humiliate myself. When I glance that way, I notice Matt and Shawn, the two other sign-ups, are sitting at the table next to theirs surrounded by second and third stringers along with some football players, too. They might as well have a billboard over them saying Jock Section. For a split second, I wonder if I should go sit with them, but then I come back to my senses. Matt and Shawn must have gotten an invitation and since I haven’t, I shouldn’t press my luck. Not that I’d want to leave Dawn anyway.
I sit in my normal seat. As soon as I open my mouth to say something to Dawn, a girl with a high ponytail sits down next to me. She doesn’t have a tray in her hands, and she’s angling toward me like she doesn’t plan on staying forever. Her blue eyes practically dance when I meet her gaze with my own. She’s slender and tall. Very pretty with that toned look that only comes from going to the gym. Some girls think looking muscu
lar is ugly, but I don’t. It shows hard work and wanting something more than the stereotypical. With a quick flick of her gaze behind me, she leans in close. “I just wanted to say that you fucking rock. I hope you kill it at tryouts.” She leans away, a smile on her lips. “It would be nice to see guys squirm around here.”
She leaves after that. My mouth drops open, but I quickly force a thin, straight face. When I look over at Dawn, she’s smiling, too. I don’t doubt she heard everything. “Who the hell was that?” I ask, twisting in my seat to find the girl. I see her heading over to a table with a bunch of girls with the same look. When she sits down, she winks at me.
“Christie Fisher. She’s in my Psych class. Field hockey captain, I think. At least, that’s what I’ve gathered.”
It’s a good thing Dawn pays more attention than she pretends to. For a new girl, she’s got everyone pegged. Maybe that’s the result of the school she came from. Maybe she had to know who everyone was and what they were involved in.
Dawn leans forward. “I told you people would be sick of their shit.”
I don’t know if that’s it or not, but it’s clear someone else doesn’t like all the misogyny happening. Maybe I should start a girl power club where we sit around and listen to Spice Girls all the time.
My internal humor is short-lived. Dawn doesn’t care about any of that. She hurries me through lunch, telling me I have to meet my ‘secret admirer’. I blush at the label. Clearly, she believes in all that stuff more than I do. In my experience, guys play with you. It’s like a sport. Or, they carry you around like a trophy. That doesn’t stop my body from responding to her words though. It would be nice to have someone here who looked at me like they actually cared for me instead of the social outcast the Ballers want me to be.
Before I know it, I’m walking down the hall with very little prodding from Dawn. I want to see for myself what’s going on. My heart is thumping in my chest. It’s so loud I can feel it beat in my ears. When I get to the stairwell, there’s no one there yet. I’m a little early, but it’s probably not even that. Maybe the guy won’t even show up. I go to the window and rise to my tiptoes to see through the glass. There’s a great view of the sports fields outside. The football field will be rocking tomorrow. Homecoming is the only time anyone gives a shit about that sport in this town. My dad goes to the game because they celebrate all alumni there. He likes to preen, but he actually really cares about this school. He cares about the students that go to this school and others, which is why he started the basketball camp.
A presence looms behind me. I try to turn, but a body presses against me from behind, two hands enclosing me to dig into the windowsill. “Tessa Dale,” the figure hisses.
I know that voice. I know this body. At the same time I freeze, my body heats in response. I’ve always been a sucker when it comes to him.
“You’re so desperate for attention,” he hisses. His hot breath caresses my ear, and I suck in a breath in response, clamping my jaw shut tight so I don’t moan. We’ve played this game before, and I lost every single time.
“N-no,” I say. Even as I say it, I know I don’t sound convincing. It’s like Ryan Linc has a sixth sense when it comes to me. He knew if he left that note on my locker, I’d come. Maybe I am starved for attention. Who could blame me? My home life is fucked. My ex liked to drag me around to parties more than he liked to show me that he actually cared.
“It’s just so easy to tempt you.” He drops his hand from the ledge and splays it against my thigh. He brings his hand up, raising my skirt with it until his finger passes so close to my slit I nearly cry out. He keeps moving upwards until his hands are spread out over my stomach. “I didn’t mean what I said in the letter,” he says mockingly. “I’m not impressed.”
“Because you’re scared,” I say, trying to find my voice. “You don’t want me to beat you.”
His fingers dig into my skin. If my shirt wasn’t in the way, I’d probably have the shape of his nail indented there. “Wrong again. You’re always wrong.” His hand dips lower. I close my eyes. I know he’s just teasing me. I know this is wrong, but I can’t seem to tell him to leave me alone either. I like what he’s doing to me. Heat pools through my center, and I squirm. He holds me steady, pressing against me. I gasp when I feel his hard length press into my lower back.
I can’t hold it back any longer. I groan hard. “Oh fuck.”
He freezes. For a second, his breath comes out in a harsh curse. Then, he chuckles darkly. He leans over me, forcing my front against the wall as he presses into me. The cold, colored brick wall is a stark contrast to my flushed skin. “Enjoy tonight, Tessa, because things are about to get so much worse for you.”
His fingers have stopped exploring. There’s a ringing in my head, and even though I know he’s said something, I can’t stop picturing his hand sneaking further down. Lifting my ass in the air, I rub into the crotch of his jeans. I’m having deja vu. The past is repeating itself when it comes to Ryan Linc and me. I swear he likes torturing me. Really likes torturing me. Maybe in a sadistic way, but it’s terrible that I crave it too. It’s as if whatever scraps the Ballers try to give me, I eat up.
His finger drops an inch lower, dancing around my clit. Another moan I can’t stop escapes me. He teases around the outside, but never presses on my nub. He’s playing me. I know he is, but I’m letting him. Shame will hit me later, but for right now, Ryan Linc is touching me. I’ve dreamed about this. I’ve dreamed about four out of the five Ballers. Lake is a dick, an irredeemable one at that. But the other four? I’ve thought about them in so many different scenarios.
His pointer finger lifts from my skirt. I force my hips forward, searching for his relief in the dark. I’m almost panting with pent-up need. Then, the bell rings overhead, reality crashing down on me. I’m in a school hallway with Ryan Linc who’s made it his mission to make sure everyone here hates me.
He pulls his body away from mine. I turn at the sudden loss of him only to catch his last glimpse of me as he readjusts himself. “For the record, Tessa, no one wants you. Trust me, I know. I could’ve bent you over just now, but…” He shrugs and fakes a tremor going through him. “…just no.”
Ryan Linc leaves me in the stairwell, the mark of his fingers still fanning the fire he built inside me. I don’t understand the reasoning behind how easily I get caught up in him—in all of them. I honestly wish I hated them. It would make it so much easier to deal with all of this.
For the rest of the day, every guy I come into contact with asks me to the homecoming dance. The first one got me. I tried to stammer out a response, but before I could, he burst out laughing, doubling over at the waist, letting me know what he truly thought of me. After that, they all just laughed as soon as the question lingered in the air. They’ve stopped bothering to pretend anymore.
13
Dawn went and got herself a date to the homecoming dance, so she texted me to meet her there. Apparently, her getting a date didn’t mean I could get out of this. Ryan and the rest of the Ballers will be there. Girls will be draped over them like it’s the only thing they want to do with their lives. And I’ll just watch from afar.
When I get to the school, no one is guarding the school parking lot, so at last, I get to park there. When I stand from the car, I pull the back of my dress down, making sure it covers my ass. It’s the dress I wore to an event with Dad. There’s plenty of dresses in my closet just like it. I have an event wardrobe and a normal, everyday wardrobe. I used to have my academy uniforms, too, but they’re all gone now. Anyone else might feel like they were trading down. Not me. I knew I was making the right decision even if the Ballers were going to taunt me along the way.
Once inside, I head toward the gym and find Dawn leaning against the retracted bleachers, a guy standing over her. He has his hand by her head, and she’s just staring up at him, a happy smile plastered over her face. When I get close enough to say something to her, I almost turn around. She looks so happy, and with my
reputation, I don’t want to ruin it for her. I’m off-limits, and I don’t need to be spreading that to Dawn, too. By the time I’ve decided to turn, though, Dawn sees me. She waves and slips under her guy’s arm. “Tessa!”
She runs over and grabs my hand, her nails digging into my palm. She leans over and whispers. “Holy shit. Look who I’m here with.”
When I glance up, I notice the guy is handsome. He’s big with wide shoulders. He has an unusually large smile that immediately puts me at ease. I hold my hand out. “I’m—”
“Tessa Dale,” he says. “How could I not know?”
He shakes my hand, and then I immediately move it behind my back. It was a decent question on his side, but now I’m just shifting from foot to foot. Awkward moments are my friend. They happen a lot to me.
“This is David Russell,” Dawn explains. “We’re in English together. He’s on the football team. Wide Receptor.”
I bite down on my lip to keep from laughing. David just tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear and says, “Wide receiver. I don’t know whether I should take offense that you know nothing about football, or think it’s endearing.”
“Endearing,” I say without skipping a beat. Unlike me, Dawn’s TV was probably never stuck on sports stations. I often wondered if we even had access to other channels. “It just means you get to teach her all about it,” I tell him, trying to shake off my nerves. David doesn’t seem to give a shit who I am, but that doesn’t mean he won’t run if—who am I kidding, when—shit hits the fan.
“I might even listen,” Dawn says. David swoops in to give her a hug. Over his shoulder, Dawn slowly shakes her head at me. Not a fucking chance, she mouths. It’s clear David is just a hot body to her. Well, at least for now. Kind of like how Alec was.