Celia sat back. A streak of blond hair stood out among her dark strands, a trait she’d inherited from her dad, who had white-blond hair. “If you want to go to the party, my mom could use the help. That way, we both get to bask in the richness of the Stevenses’ holiday gala.”
I would rather go as a guest, but maybe working the party would be less nerve-racking and keep Tessa’s evil eye off of me.
The Christmas tree business was slow that night. Mr. Thompson had said that weekends were the busiest, which meant I could make some cash. I had plans for spending a small amount on presents for my sisters and brothers and a special gift for Mom. Then I would put away the rest for school lunches and gas for the family car.
Mr. Thompson seemed in a cheerier mood than he had the night before when he’d chewed part of my butt off. I was relieved he hadn’t reminded me not to get into trouble. I didn’t plan on any trouble unless Chase showed up again. Part of me believed Chase would come by again just to get in my face and tell me that I wasn’t going to play shooting guard unless it was over his dead body. I would like to think I wouldn’t engage with him, but Chase Stevens was making me become someone I didn’t recognize.
Despite my self-analysis, I replayed that afternoon on the basketball court over and over like a broken record.
Chase had stomped his foot as he’d shouted at Coach in front of the entire basketball team. “I’m the shooting guard. I’m the best one you’ve had in two years. He is not taking my position.”
Coach had been stoked when I’d shown up in his office after school, ready to practice and take on my rightful position on the court.
“I’m the coach of this team. Maiken Maxwell will be the shooting guard. Once you see him in action, you’ll agree.”
“Never.” Chase had spat venom as he’d stomped off and out of the gym.
The team had held their breath while Chase had thrown a tantrum. I’d been indifferent. I’d never seen Chase play, so I couldn’t judge, nor could I brag that I was the better player. Coach, however, could. He’d seen my tapes. He’d seen Chase play. So he was the expert.
Regardless, I couldn’t blame Chase for standing up for himself. If the tables had been turned, I would argue too. Actually, I’d done something similar in the seventh grade when the gym teacher had wanted to move me from center to shooting guard. In the end, he’d done it for my own benefit.
“You’re a shooting guard, Maiken,” he’d said. “You don’t miss many shots, and you make every three-pointer.”
The only reason I hadn’t wanted to give up being a center for the school’s basketball team was ego. I’d felt like a failure. Yet once I had changed positions, I understood what the gym teacher had seen in me. Maybe Chase would come to that same conclusion about himself.
Even Liam had said amid Chase’s outburst that he would be an awesome point guard. “He knows the game and is an okay shooter, but he’s a master of seeing the big picture on the court.”
I’d asked why he hadn’t played point guard before.
“Because of Alex,” Liam had added. “Alex was the best.”
Despite all that, one tiny problem remained. That animosity that Coach didn’t want on the court was thicker than ever. I wasn’t sure if I would last long on the team if Coach adhered to his ultimatum.
I knew Chase wasn’t going to give up. I also knew I wouldn’t let him walk all over me. The other problem between us was Quinn. I wouldn’t say Quinn was a problem, but Chase and I were jockeying for the same girl. Well, he had made his intentions known, and I hadn’t.
I had to choose my battles. Basketball had always been my first love. Girls had never been front and center in my life. Yet I was struggling with what was important to me—a girl or basketball.
The problem was I couldn’t get Quinn out of my head. At lunch, I’d itched to sweep Quinn out of the room and away from Chase. My brother Ethan found it funny that I was crushing on a girl. “I’ve never seen you so into a chick before,” he’d said as we left the cafeteria. “I like it.”
I wasn’t sure I did. She was making me crazy. I wanted to play with her long butterscotch hair. I wanted to feel her hand in mine again, and above all else, I was dying to kiss her.
None of that would happen if her brothers had a say in the matter. I couldn’t blame Carter for protecting his sister. I would do the same with any boy who looked at my sisters the wrong way, although I wasn’t too worried about Emma since she could probably deck a guy in two seconds flat. She had learned how to defend herself from Dad and from sparring with our fourteen-year-old brother, Marcus.
I needed to stop thinking about Quinn and focus on what I knew best, and that was basketball. Girls were too confusing anyway.
“I can help with other things around the farm if you have a need,” I said to Mr. Thompson before I left.
He gave me one of his infamous mean expressions. “If you don’t mind, can you take the box of apples down to the barn?” He stabbed a finger at the box on top of the counter inside the hut.
“Sure.” I imagined the apples were for the horses. “Is Quinn down at the barn?”
He cocked one of his bushy eyebrows. “Do you like my daughter, son?”
I shrugged, but I knew full well I did. But I was afraid if I told him the truth, he might lay into me like Carter had, and I was more afraid of the elder Thompson than the younger one. For all I knew, Mr. Thompson would fire me if I said yes.
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “It’s a simple yes or no. I’m not going to fire you if that’s why you won’t answer.”
“She’s pretty.”
He grinned as though in agreement. Then he lost his smile as he scrutinized me.
I shrank as nerves poked holes in my stomach. Even though he’d said he wouldn’t fire me, I didn’t believe him. I grabbed the box of apples. I could at least do that one final task before he let me go.
The more he studied me, the more I got a weird feeling. Or maybe he was trying to decide if I was good enough for his daughter.
“I’ll take the box down to the barn.” I got one foot out of the hut when he cleared his throat.
“Wait, son. I appreciate your honesty. After that interaction between you and the Stevens boy, it’s hard not to see that both of you are smitten with Quinn. But I’ll tell you like I told him. If you so much as hurt my daughter, I will take matters into my own hands.”
Chase doesn’t like your daughter. He’s up to something. “You have nothing to worry about on my end. I would never hurt her. Anyway, Quinn likes Chase, not me.” Oh, man. I sounded like a love-struck teenager.
You are!
He scratched the scruff on his face. “I tell my boys and Quinn to fight for what they want. You should do the same.”
My mouth opened slightly. “Are you saying I should fight for Quinn?” And what about Carter, your son, the boy who wants to tear off my head?
“What I’m saying is don’t let anyone get in the way of what you want.”
Tires crunched on the gravel, causing my attention to dart to the parking lot.
My gaze lingered on the truck, relieved that the driver wasn’t Chase. But I did a double take when Coach Dean got out.
“Go,” Mr. Thompson said. “I got this.”
Coach Dean’s presence reminded me of something. “Sir, it’s important to me that you know Chase lied to you yesterday. I’m not trying to take his position on the court.” He’d already assumed I was trouble because of my name. I couldn’t have him believing that I was a liar too.
“I know, son,” Mr. Thompson said. “Sports is competitive, and I understand that as a new boy on the team, others can be threatened.”
Whew came to mind as Coach Dean adjusted his ball cap then exchanged a handshake with Mr. Thompson.
“What brings you by, Coach?” Mr. Thompson asked. “Our poker night is Friday. Or did I miss something?”
Coach grinned. “I was hoping I could talk to Maiken here.”
I was stuck on the idea of
them playing poker and not the fact that he was there to see me. My dad had loved to play poker with his buddies.
Mr. Thompson patted Coach on the back. “Maiken’s not on the clock. I need to finish up receipts.”
“Let’s take a walk,” Coach said.
“I need to deliver this box to the barn,” I said.
Coach waved his hand toward the snowy rolling hills. “Lead the way.”
As we headed down to the barn, I asked, “What’s this about?”
“I want you to play point guard instead of shooting guard.”
I almost dropped the box. “Why the change? What happened after practice?” My stomach hurt all of a sudden. Coach had all but begged me to play shooting guard. “It’s because of Chase’s temper tantrum. Isn’t it?” The anger coursing through me was so bright, it probably made me glow.
“Son, explain to me the difference between point guard and shooting guard.”
I angled my head at Coach. “Is this a trick question?”
“Humor me.”
We reached the barn, and I could hear Quinn inside talking to Apple. “Point guard has great ball-handling skills.” I set the box of apples down on a small table right outside the open barn door. “He can maneuver the team during a play and is capable of three-pointers.” I pulled my knit hat down over my years. “The shooting guard is the best shooter on the team from short or long distances.”
“Exactly,” he said. “Point guard is the leader of the team. Chase is not a leader. His outburst today showed me that. No matter how much he can play point guard, he wouldn’t be very effective if he can’t lead the plays.”
I couldn’t believe Chase hadn’t shown his true colors to Coach before that day. Still, he had a point, although… “But according to some of the guys on the team, Chase would be a better point guard. Even Liam said Chase knows the game and is a master at seeing the big picture on the court.”
Coach chuckled. “I would agree that Chase knows the game. But right now, he isn’t going to see any picture since he’s adamant about not giving up his position as shooting guard. And right now, I need to bring the team together not tear them apart. I want to win games. Don’t you?”
No matter what position Chase played, I had a feeling he wouldn’t be a team player with me as the point guard. “So it’s either point guard or no position at all?”
He scratched his chin. “I could move Phil to point guard, but he’s better at being a small forward.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Quinn gliding in our direction. Even Coach latched onto her and smiled as she approached.
Her nose and cheeks were red. Her hair was tied up on top of her head the way my mom had worn her hair when it was long. But what made my body fire on all cylinders was her smile when we locked eyes.
“Hi,” she said. “What’s going on? Coach, what brings you out to the farm? It’s not poker night.”
With a teasing grin, he said, “Someone told me I could find Maiken here. Thank you.”
She fixated on her muddy boots. “You’re welcome.”
“Do you want to help me convince Maiken that point guard will suit him?”
Kissing Quinn might suit me better. Maybe I had my priorities all wrong. Maybe I should put a girl first and basketball second. After all, I wasn’t sure I would be any good at point guard. Sure, I could handle the ball, lead the team, and shoot, but I loved playing shooting guard.
“I’m n-not sure I’m the r-right person to do that,” Quinn said.
I had an ego like any other person, but mine wouldn’t be derailed at all if Quinn threw in her two cents.
“Give it your best shot,” Coach said.
All I could think about was that day she’d spewed facts about the Celtics. Come to think of it, I’d asked her if she liked basketball, and she’d never answered me.
She focused on Coach as she spoke to me. “Maybe playing both p-positions will get you noticed q-quicker by colleges.”
I smirked at how cute she was when she was nervous.
“What Quinn is trying to say,” Coach said, “is that combo players in the sport are in extremely high demand and popular.”
“It’s like a switch-hitter in baseball,” Quinn added. “Teams like s-switch-hitters.”
I was dizzy all of a sudden. Not from them teaming up on me, but Quinn’s knowledge of not only basketball but baseball too.
Coach winked at her. “Exactly. I’ve got to run. Maiken, think about it.” Then he strolled back up the path.
I was at a loss for words as Quinn and I stood outside the barn, watching Coach fade in the distance.
I dared not look at Maiken. I hated that Coach had put me on the spot. I wasn’t the expert on all things basketball. Still, Maiken’s gaze was cemented straight ahead, and I couldn’t tell if he was shocked or disappointed by my advice. He probably thought I was siding with Chase when I was only speaking the truth about what I knew from hearing my brothers talk about the game.
The cold bit into my face as a snowflake landed on my nose. More freezing temperatures were predicted overnight, but I didn’t recall snow being in the forecast. Maybe if we had another snow day, I could go ice-skating. I was sure the lake behind the Maxwell house was frozen solid or close to it.
“I h-have to put a blanket on Apple.” I seriously had to find a way not to stutter around Maiken. Granted, I stuttered whenever I was nervous, but I was doing it more and more lately.
Maiken picked up the box of apples as he followed me in. The heat from one of the stand-up heaters radiated over me as we walked by.
I pointed at the table in between Apple’s stall and Oscar’s, her companion. “Can you set the box down there?” I disappeared into Apple’s stall and covered her.
Maiken watched with a blank expression, which was a far cry from the fear he’d shown in the barn the other day when he had been scared out of his mind. “Did you feed the horses already?”
“Carter did earlier. So are you going to play point guard?” I was dying to know what he thought about my input on the matter.
He leaned on the rail of the stall, comfortable and casual. “Do you think I should?”
I walked out of the stall. “It’s your decision.”
He straightened, his blue gaze searing me. “Or do you want Chase to play shooting guard?”
My stomach knotted. “W-Why.” I took a breath. “Never mind.” I didn’t know how to handle a jealous boy. I didn’t want to be snarky. Instead, I took his hand, a habit that was slowly forming when I was around him, which didn’t make any sense. I was nervous to speak around him but brave enough to take his hand. Boy, that was a contradiction. Yet I didn’t let go no matter how much my stomach churned. “Come on.”
Maiken’s calloused fingers swallowed my small hand. “I should go.” His protest was weak at best.
I tugged on his arm. “I want to show you something.”
He searched the barn, no doubt for Carter.
“Carter isn’t here,” I felt compelled to say. If Carter so much as showed up and started trouble, I would do something drastic like tattle on him to Momma. She could always get Carter to listen to reason. If she couldn’t, I had no hope of dating that year. The good news was that Carter was a senior, so he wouldn’t be around to scare off boys my junior or senior year.
His tight features loosened. “I have homework.”
I did too, but I would drop everything to hang out with Maiken. He let go of my hand, and I mentally pouted. I started for the loft, hoping he would follow. I was relieved when I heard his footsteps behind me. When we reached the stairs, which were at the opposite end of the barn, he coughed. I was used to the smell of horses, manure, and hay floating in the air, but he obviously wasn’t.
I climbed the stairs and switched on the light at the top of the landing. “Over here.” I padded across the wood planks to the open door that overlooked the hills of our property. Snowflakes floated to the ground as a biting wind blew in, stirring up the remnants of
hay that were strewn over the floor.
I moved the telescope, a gift Momma and Daddy had given me for Christmas last year, and pointed the lens toward the sky.
Maiken looked around. “What did you want to show me?”
I peeked through the lens, even though clouds covered the stars. I sighed heavily. “Maybe another time. The stars aren’t out.”
He stood close to the edge, glancing out. “Great view.”
The view was even prettier at sunset, especially in the summertime when streaks of oranges, purples, and blues painted the horizon at dusk.
He sniffed the brisk outside air, seeming content, relaxed, and looking so dreamy with the way his hair poked out from his knit hat. “It’s quiet up here.”
The loft was my hideaway, a place I could come when I wanted to think or read or even do homework after tending to my chores.
“So how do you know so much about basketball?” he asked evenly. His attention was anywhere but on me.
“Um, brothers, Dad, uncles, and cousins are all into the game. Sports is big in my family.”
He seemed to freeze at the word family.
I joined him, admiring the land I’d known my whole life and catching a glimpse of Maiken out of the corner of my eye. He looked sad. I wanted to hug him and tell him everything would be okay, but I didn’t know that for sure. I hadn’t lost Daddy, and I would die if I did. Nevertheless, my heart flew against my ribs. Bang! Bang! Bang! In the silence of the loft, I was sure he could hear it too.
“I’m sorry about your dad,” I finally said.
He sighed. “Thank you.” His tone was somber. “I miss him.”
The need to hug him grew stronger. “Do you want to talk about it?” Sometimes people felt better if they had a friend who would listen to them.
He grinned through his despair. “Your black eyes are healing nicely.”
The color was now a yucky yellow, but makeup had saved me from all the whispers and stares in school.
My Heart To Touch: A Maxwell Family Saga - Book One Page 11