by E. M. Moore
It isn’t until after he’s left that I realize he never said he wouldn’t do anything to Chase. The rest of my mind doesn’t want to dwell on that though. It wants to replay everything that just happened over and over and over again as I drift into sleep.
Hayes “Ice Man” Irving likes me.
8
The next morning at breakfast, I sit with Chase and his lacrosse teammates. I guess I really am going to push this game with him. Serves the Ballers right. Also, it’s because the lacrosse players are the least threatening option right now. Hayes is still sitting with the rest of the Ballers even though he’s as far away from Lake as he can get. But truly, they’re friends. Best friends. They’ve all proven before that they would choose him over me. What makes me think they—or even Hayes, specifically—won’t do it again?
“Hey, Sunshine,” Chase says.
I bite my lip and sit next to him with my tray. It’s becoming apparent that I’m going to be seeing the Huntington Lacrosse players at every meal. The camp personnel probably only want to serve food three times a day instead of breaking us apart and serving at different times.
I blush when he uses such a sweet nickname for me. I’m not completely immune to things like a pet name, even when it’s uttered by Chase.
“Did you sleep well?”
I shrug. The truth is, the mattress sucks, but I came prepared. I brought a foam thing to roll over it this year. I swear I’m not trying to be prissy about it, but sleep is so important. “Not bad. You?”
“Would’ve been better with you.”
His words should shock me, but they don’t. I know why he’s laying it on thick. Shaking my head, I smile over at him.
“You nervous about camp?”
Now this is comfortable conversation territory. “Yeah, no. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m pretty good at basketball.”
The rest of the lacrosse guys hear this and laugh. It ricochets around the room and after that, I’m pretty sure I can feel the strain of at least a few pairs of eyes on me. Thank God I’m sitting facing away from them or else I’d be tempted to sneak glances at their table throughout the short meal.
Ten minutes prior to our scheduled run, I stand. I only managed to eat some eggs and drink a little bit of juice, but I really want to come out strong on this run. “You leaving?” Chase asks, a frown forming on his face.
“We have a run,” I explain.
He reaches out to place his hand on my hip, taps there a few times almost dangerously close to my ass, and says, “Go get ‘em.”
I can tell he’s loving every second of this. His teammates are looking at him with appreciation though, so it makes me smile.
However, when I turn around, it’s a whole different story. I’m almost thrown back by the amount of hostility coming from the opposite corner of the room. Hayes stares where Chase is touching me until I step away and his hand falls off naturally. Then, his gaze moves up to my eyes where they keep staring until I’m the one looking away. I told him I was probably going to do this. And if it’s truly affecting him, so what? He should’ve thought about that before he took Lake’s side.
I place my tray near the return, smile at the lady next to the dishwasher, and head back out into the main area. My dad is there talking to a few of the coaches. He waves me over and introduces me to them. We never have the same set of coaches. He switches them up every year, bringing in people that will help us in different areas, and help us in different ways, too. When we get to the last coach, my eyes go wide. Holy shit, I recognize this guy.
My dad laughs. “Yes, it’s Jacquin Sellers.”
“Wow,” I say. “Nice to meet you.” I reach out to shake his hand.
“Jacquin, this is my daughter, Tessa. One of the best shooting guards in our state.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard of her,” he says.
I realize then I haven’t pulled my hand away from shaking his, so I do so now, my cheeks flaming. Jacquin just got drafted out of high school. He’ll be playing for the Cavs next season, and he’s all anyone can talk about in the basketball world right now. People are debating whether he should’ve gone to college first instead of straight to pro. Regardless of his decision, that’s a great position to be in. I envy him.
He also looks like a scrumptious piece of milk chocolate.
With that thought, I quickly excuse myself and go outside to stretch before the run starts. My dad never runs the long distance runs with us because of his knee problems, so it’ll be one of the other coaches leading us this morning. I make sure to stretch everything out, limbering up as much as possible in preparation. I don’t know if they’ll decide to go easy on us right out of the gate or try to test us. It could go either way.
Soon, others join me. First, it’s some of the other players from around the state, but then a familiar body stands next to me. I look away, avoiding Sloan Ivy’s gaze. He doesn’t seem to have that problem though. “Any idea where Hayes went last night?” he asks, an almost humorous lilt to his voice.
He’s got that stupid politician-like smirk on his face too. He probably fucking knows Hayes came to see me last night. Hell, Hayes probably told him all about it. When I look over at him again to give him a sarcastic answer, I notice the shadows under his eyes have lifted a little. Relief floods me, then another bout of What the fuck? Why?! I should feel nothing in reference to him. “I’m sure you could just ask him, and he’d tell you,” I say.
“Probably. It’s just funnier this way.”
“Yeah, funnier than a bunch of Baller Bitches throwing panties around, claiming they’re mine.” Oh yeah, that still happened. They didn’t have my personal panties for the rest of the season, but that didn’t mean they didn’t claim to.
His face turns red. Good. Asshole.
“You know I never told them to do that.”
“Do I though? And why the fuck are you even bothering to talk to me, Ivy? You’ve made your feelings crystal clear, I think.” He opens his mouth to say something, but Lake just now is walking out of the main building with his brother. “Shh,” I tease. “I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble with your master.” With that, I turn and move as far away from him as I possibly can.
Stepping out of the cabin right after Lake and River are my dad and Jacquin. He introduces him to us—like he needs an introduction. If someone here doesn’t know who he is, they should probably just leave camp now because they’re not taking this basketball thing seriously enough. “Sellers is going to lead your morning run,” Dad announces.
Jacquin smiles and then stretches alongside us while my dad runs through how the day is going to go. I’m shaking my calves out when my dad finishes and Jacquin tells us all to follow him. I start out in the middle of the pack, but that’s not good enough for me anymore. I move up to right beside Jacquin who’s keeping a really good pace. He leads us out of the camp and down the side roads.
Ryan and Lake’s voices sound behind us. There’s even some bitching, which I can only gather is coming from Lake himself. There’s no way in hell he’s beating me on this run though. He can groan all he wants.
I strike up a conversation with Jacquin and learn all about how the Cavs recruited him. I’m not going to lie, it’s inspiring, and I’m almost dying of jealousy.
“Hear that, Dale? That’s as close as you’re going to get to your own Cinderella story,” Lake crows.
I hold my hand up to flip him off.
Jacquin looks behind us, taking Lake in. I don’t even bother. I already know I’m going to see the most pompous face ever. Jacquin looks at me briefly before switching back to watch the road in front of us again. Instead of commenting about Lake, he says, “Your dad tells me you played for the Rockport Warriors boys’ team last season.”
I nod. I’m sure Jacquin has seen all the stats on the camp attendees, including mine. He’s seen our playing time and numbers. I’m not going to tell him what happened at RHS, I’m going to show him during camp why it should’ve been different. L
ake, however, says, “Did he also tell you she barely played?”
“He did, actually,” Jacquin says.
Jacquin picks up the pace, and I push it alongside him. This is faster than I normally run my long runs, but I’m determined to stay in front of all the Ballers.
Jacquin looks over after another mile or so. “Nice stride, Dale.”
I smile at him, but because we’re going faster than normal, I’m also breathing harder than normal and at the same time, trying not to let that show. I don’t feel the others breathing down my neck anymore, so I could let off the gas if I wanted to, but I don’t. Before I know it, we’re at five miles as we swing back around toward camp.
“Pick it up near the end,” Jacquin shouts back.
I take my chance to look around. Ryan and Sloan are the only ones close to us now. Sloan is glaring at Jacquin and me. Lake is running with River while Hayes and Alec are intermixed with the rest of the guys invited to camp.
Jacquin starts to sprint, so I kick into the next gear, too. He looks over at me. “Are you trying to prove something, Dale?”
“Yes,” I push out, my breathing harsh.
“Good.”
He flies across the bit of grass between the two trees near the main building that symbolizes our finish line, then slows, placing his hands behind his head. I finish right after him. Well, like five strides, but I do finish closer to him than anyone else. He winks at me right before I bend over, pulling in air as fast and even as I can. Someone’s helpfully left a bucket of water bottles near us, so I grab one of those, too, gulping it down. With what’s left in the bottle, I place it on the back of my neck as sweat drips down my face and onto the front of my RHS tank top. It’s almost completely soaked through with sweat, but I don’t care about that. I care that I smoked Lake fucking O’Brien. Douche.
Hayes runs across the imaginary finish line and immediately smiles at me. “Nice work, Tessa.”
Lake glares at him while the rest of the Ballers raise their eyebrows. I don’t know if it’s because he talked to me, or if it’s because he talked at all that surprised them the most.
“Take fifteen,” Sellers says, “Then meet us out on the outdoor court.”
I toss my empty water bottle into a recycle bin and bend over for a new one, but there’s already one in my face. I look up to find Hayes smiling at me. I take the bottle from him and drink some more. “Thank you,” I say finally after I feel like I have my breathing under some sort of control. I look around. The Ballers are still nearby. River O’Brien is staring at our exchange with narrowed slits for eyes. “You’re brave,” I tell him, realizing that what he’s doing is pretty significant. Fraternizing with the enemy in front of his people.
“You out of everyone should know that I’m not that brave. I’m just making up for being a dick.”
I chuckle. “You’re going to have to try harder than this then.”
I walk toward the side bathrooms. I want nothing more than to jump in the lake right now but throwing water on my face will have to do before I head out onto the court. Right when I’m about to pass by the main entrance to the building, Chase and his lacrosse team come out the door. He looks at me from head-to-toe, and something more flares in his eyes than has been there previously. He moves forward, catching me before I pass him and drops a kiss on my cheek. “Jesus, Tessa,” he almost growls.
“Lucky Dick,” one of his teammates says.
I laugh even though the catch in Chase’s voice makes me uncomfortable. I head toward the door with the girl painted on the front, but turn when a voice says, “Looks like someone’s about to get his dick sucked.”
Chase is right behind me, acting like he’s going to follow me into the bathroom. He stops when he hears the words. Whipping around, we both stare at River. I open my mouth to tell him off, but I don’t have to. Hayes says, “Shut the fuck up, Baby O’Brien.”
My eyebrows raise. I just stand there, my mouth hanging open. I guess I don’t need to stick up for myself this time. Too bad for Hayes he’s getting daggers from Lake. Oh well, they can fight it out for all I care. “See you later, Chase,” I say, making sure he’s not actually going to follow me into the bathroom.
He mumbles something back that vaguely sounds like, “Yeah, sure.”
I don’t even stay to watch what happens next. I have basketball to worry about.
9
The short workshops throughout the day are grueling. They’re also laced with nasty quips from Lake and his tool of a brother, River. What? Were their parents high when they named them? Do they have a sister named Sea?
I stomp toward my cabin faster. I should be the last one to talk about names. After all, I’m named after the fact that my dad was going after his fifth championship ring when I was born. I’m ecstatic I can shorten it to Tessa, so it actually sounds like a real name. I shake my head at myself. I’m only picking on their names because I’m pissed they still picked on me today.
I didn’t let them get away with it once. I may not have always came back with a retort of my own, but oftentimes, I let my actions speak louder. Call me a bitch again, and I’ll pull up for a three in front of you and smile as it hits nothing but net. Assholes.
As soon as I get back to my room, I peel my clothes off and throw them into the hamper. I forgot how many times I have to do laundry while I’m here. My mom usually takes care of it for me back home, but eventually, I’ll have to make the trek to the wash house that has a full laundromat plus extra showers and bathrooms, not that I’ve ever seen anyone use them before. Each of the cabins has its own bathroom, though I suppose the guys have to share more than I do. Maybe they use the extra showers. Who knows?
After I’m rid of my sweat-soaked workout clothes, I pull my bathing suit out and slip it on. I’ve been dreaming about taking a dip in the lake all morning and afternoon. Grabbing a towel from my bag, I throw it over my shoulder and then slip out of the small cabin. There’s only a few feet of grass before I hit the sand of the manmade beach, so I don’t even bother with footwear. I just drop my cabin keys and my towel right in the sand and keep walking until my feet glide into the water.
I look both ways down the beach. There’s no one else in sight. Perfect.
I move in, letting the small ripples of water lap at me until I’m waist deep. The sun is hovering halfway between the horizon and the sky, its rays still on full blast. I splash some water on me, but then figure, fuck it, and dive in. It seriously feels so good. I love the natural feel of the water, the crisp, cool of it on my skin. Back home, the water smells like chlorine and somehow, it’s just not as naturally refreshing as this is. I make a mental note to call my mother after I go back to my room before dinner, and then I lie back and float on my back for a while, eyes closed, and arms outstretched.
Today went well. I did everything I wanted. Played well, worked hard, and impressed the coaches. Though, that usually doesn’t take much. Unfortunately, when they hear Timothy Dale’s daughter is coming to camp, they automatically think I got in because he’s my dad. All I have to do is make a basket and they’re congratulating me. It’ll take them a while to understand that I mean business. I’m not just here for looks or because my dad doesn’t want to hurt my feelings. No, I deserve it.
It’s kind of fucked up that guys probably never have to have this conversation with themselves. Plus, if Lake calls me Daddy’s Girl one more time, I’m going to straight up murder his fucking ass.
I slip under the water and open my eyes. Everything around me is muted. The big ball of a sun is fuzzy around the edges, rays reaching out in every direction, almost refracted by the water. Beyond that, I can see the very tip of the canopy of trees that surround Lake Holly. When I was younger, I used to play around with the idea of buying this land and using it as nothing but an all-girls basketball camp. No boys allowed.
The girls wouldn’t have to prove anything to the coaches. They wouldn’t have to worry about telling everyone they’re fine if they tripped over their fee
t and ended up sprawled on the ground. Everyone would already know they could take it and that they don’t need to be treated like fairy princesses for Christ’s sake.
By the time my lungs start to burn, I place my feet on the sandy bottom and push, letting the water glide down my face as I emerge from the surface. I’ve floated farther from shore, my shoulders just barely above the water line now. I pull the hair tie from my hair, put it on my wrist, and let my hair cascade down my back. Holding my head back, I let the water roll over the tresses and then pull my head back up again. It’s straight as silk now.
“Never thought I’d see that,” a voice says.
Startled, I turn, blinking when water runs into my eyes. Sloan Ivy is sitting next to my towel on the beach. His shoes are off, stuffed into the sand as if he’s been there for a while. He’s shirtless and leaning back like he doesn’t have a care in the world other than watching me swim.
There goes my moment of peace.
“What’s that, Ivy? Seeing a girl swim?”
I go to walk out, but all of a sudden, I feel exposed. I’m wearing my two-piece and with the way Sloan is staring at me right now, I’m not sure I want to get out just yet. Not with him here watching. “You forget I’ve seen you swim, Dale. But no, that’s not what I’m talking about.”
My face heats under his scrutiny. He’s talking about the time my dad invited all the Warriors over to my house when I made the team. All those players who were so quick to turn on me ate my food, hung out in my house, and swam in my pool. What a bunch of bastards. “I don’t think I care to know what you’re talking about.”
He shrugs. “I’m talking about Hayes talking shit to River…over you.”
“Well, someone around here has to have a set of balls.”
His jaw clamps shut, and I have to stop myself from smiling and giving myself a pat on the back. I’m actually really proud of that one.
And just because I feel like being a bitch, I ask, “How are your parents, Ivy? Good?”