Full Court Press

by Sierra Hill

  “Um, no…not really.”

  “Mica?” I prod.

  She sighs, her shoulders lifting and falling in resignation.

  “Fine. Okay…but you can’t ever repeat this. Or tell him. You can’t say a word. You have to promise me.” She pleads, looking mortified at the prospect of being outed. I nod my head in agreement, solemnly swearing to never say a word.

  She pauses for a moment, biting her lip as she considers what she’s about to let slip.

  “It’s Lance.”

  Lance?

  “Really?” I exclaim loudly, absolutely floored by her admission, as she anxiously glances around us to ensure no one is in earshot. “You mean Lance Britton? As in Cade’s roommate?”

  I’m kind of astounded by her confession. She’s only met him once before, to my knowledge, when Cade and Lance stopped by the coffee shop one day while Mica and I were studying. They were on their way to the gym. Lance was his usual goofy self. At the time, I was too enamored with Cade to notice anything between them, but now that I think back, Mica was pretty giddy. And gigglier than I’d ever seen her before.

  “Wow.”

  Mica slaps me on the shoulder with her open palm, but it’s barely a tap. She couldn’t kill a mosquito with her tiny bare hands.

  “Yes, that Lance. I think he’s kind of cute. And funny. And tall.” She sighs dreamily.

  I roll my eyes. “Well, duh. Everyone seems tall to you, Tinkerbell.”

  I jab her back with my finger just as I hear my name being called across the courtyard. It’s startling that someone would recognize me on campus. That doesn’t happen often. Try never.

  Speak of the devil.

  “Ainsley, wait up!” Comes the booming voice of the man himself.

  My gaze moves between the incoming basketball player only twenty feet from us and Mica’s wide-eyed surprise. She looks like she might just hurl.

  “Hey. Thanks for waiting.” Lance stops in front of his and catches his breath, smiling down at us, but his attention lands squarely on Mica.

  Mica shifts nervously between both feet, her eyes landing everywhere else but Lance. She sucks in her lower lip, her teeth practically biting a hole clean through. I try to hide my amusement over her pained expression.

  “Hi Lance. What’s going on?”

  Regardless of whether Cade and I are together, I have no beef with his friends. And Lance is a nice guy. We’ve hung out a number of times when I was over at Cade’s, and I even helped him once on an assignment for biology he was having trouble with. I haven’t seen him since my last sleep over at their apartment. The thought sends a phantom-like pain through my heart.

  Lance shakes his head, as if clearing a fog caused by Mica’s presence. It’s pretty cute. Lance seems to be a little taken by her, too. Such a nice development.

  “Oh, yeah. So, the thing is…” He trails off, clearing his throat, his voice froggy. “Well, shit, Ainsley. I shouldn’t be saying this, and he’d kick my ass if he knew I was telling you this, but Griff’s really fucked up. I don’t know what happened between you two, but he’s a mess right now. Me and the guys are getting kind of worried. We’ve all got a lot riding on this year and if he goes into practice looking the way he does right now, Coach isn’t gonna start him after his suspension is lifted.”

  Lance shoves his hands in the front pockets of his shorts, looming over me like a freaked out Sasquatch.

  Admittedly, I’m a bit surprised that Lance is divulging this to me. It’s no longer my business. Cade and I are done. He’s his own man and can act anyway he likes.

  I stare up at Lance with more confidence than I possess. “I’m sorry to hear that, Lance, but I’m not sure what you want me to do about that. It’s not my problem. Or my fault.” He’s the one who screwed up, dammit. The blame shouldn’t be pinned on me for his bad behavior.

  I can feel my temper start to rise, the blood heating underneath my skin. The sweat beads slinking down my back with the silent accusation he’s made. Like I’m the Yoko Ono of the basketball team, bringing Cade down. I’m not the reason for his screw up. It was his decision not to come clean with me and I can’t continue in a relationship based on dishonesty.

  “Ainsley.” He pleads, looking like I’ve just kicked his puppy. “I know it’s not your fault. And Griff deserves whatever lashing you gave him. But all I’m asking from you is to give him a chance to explain. To let him apologize, or whatever. At least give him that. Based on what I’ve heard, you haven’t returned any of his calls. He needs closure.”

  Mica nods. “I agree. You should give him a chance to explain.”

  I give her a death glare and shove her foot with my toe. “Traitor. Thanks a lot for taking my side.”

  “I am on your side. But you can’t just shut him out of your life like that. You need to talk it out, amiga, like adults do.” She has the good sense to look contrite.

  Well, she has me there. My initial reaction was to close down so I couldn’t get hurt any worse. My head told me to give him that concession, allow him to explain. My heart said not to get suckered again. They were probably right, I should find closure and allow him to set the record straight. If anything, it would at least end things on a less sour note. Then I could walk away with my head held high. Even if my heart was dragging in the dirt.

  “Fine,” I concede, begrudgingly. “I’ll talk to him. But that’s it. He’s on his own from there.”

  You’d think I’d just announced they won the lotto. Mica let out a loud whoop of joy and Lance picked me up by the waist and swung me around like a lunatic as I flailed in his arms.

  “Thank God. I thought I might have to resort to kidnapping to get you to see him. So can you stop over tonight? We don’t have a lot of time to get his ass straightened out.”

  I nod at him in agreement, much to my chagrin. This isn’t how I planned on spending my only night off this week. But when you’re pressured by your best friend and a very large, loveable giant, you don’t have many other options.

  Lance sets me back down and then looks me straight in the eye. “That’s great. But I need to warn you…”

  Oh great, here we go. Nothing is ever as easy as it seems. Especially for me.

  “Cade’s been drinking…heavily. Hasn’t been sober in days. So…he may not be in good shape.”

  My heart sinks with a sadness for what my sweet man has been going through. Shit, I’ve tried to keep those feelings tamped down. Stay firm. Don’t be allowed to get sucked back in.

  “Thanks, Lance. You’re a good friend.”

  Lance lifts his shoulders in a casual shrug and smiles.

  “I know he’d do the same for me. I’ll see you ladies later. And hey, Mica…” He stops, spins around, giving her a carnal perusal that has even my face heating up.

  “Hope to see you again, soon.”

  He literally bounds down the sidewalk like a giant Tigger. I chuckle at his animated goofiness as I shift my gaze to Mica. Her eyes are transfixed on Lance’s retreating form, mouth agape in awe and wonder.

  “Ahem.”

  Her head pops up to look at me, suddenly remembering that I’m still present. A brilliant smile blazes across her face. Mica’s just nineteen, so sometimes I forget that she isn’t as desensitized to the world as I am. The joyous expression she wears tells me she thinks life is coming up roses.

  “Dios mio. Did that really just happen?”

  I laugh. “Yep, that really just happened. And I think your man crush may just have a little crush on you, too.”

  “Whatever,” Mica waves me off. “Estas loca, chica. You’re crazy if you think he likes me. I mean look at him. He’s a bona fide basketball god. And I’m…” She gestures down her petite body.

  “Exactly…he looked at you all right. And let me tell you. He likes what he sees. That boy is enamored.”

  We finalize our plans to meet up at the practice on Friday and say our goodbyes, but not before I promise to call her tomorrow to tell her how things go with Cade ton
ight.

  I decide to go home for dinner tonight before making my unannounced visit to see Cade. I haven’t had a real conversation with Anika for a few days and I feel the need to see what’s going on in her life. She’s been a lot more reserved and distant as of late. I guess that’s par for the course with teenagers, but it fills me with dread.

  After I’ve showered and changed, I walk out of my bedroom and notice the light on underneath my mom’s door. It’s actually been a while since I’ve caught up with her, too. She’s been dating someone again, although I haven’t met him. But Ani said he seems “normal”, whatever that entails. Apparently, he’s been making my mom smile, according to Ani. So that can’t be all that bad. For now.

  I hesitate at her door for just a second and then I knock.

  “Come in.”

  I rarely go into my mom’s bedroom unless I’ve done the laundry and have to put her clothes away, so when I step in, the first thing I notice is the floor. It’s littered with clothes and empty hangers. My gaze shifts then to an open suitcase out on her bed - half full.

  “Going on a trip?” I ask hesitantly, the dread weighing on me like a thick cloak.

  She lifts her head and blinks at me, smiling sweetly, but the smile not quite reaching her eyes. It’s a telltale sign. I feel the tension rising in the air, like a like a ticking time bomb about to detonate.

  My mother is a very beautiful woman. She’s still youthful at forty-one, although the last few years have been unkind to her physique. She’s lost a lot of weight, claiming it’s from being on her feet all the time at the salon and forgetting to eat. I’m not so sure about that, but I’m not about to comment. It wouldn’t change anything even if I did.

  Things are a lot better now than they were a few years ago, so I try not to dwell on that time in our lives, when we were living out of a car and my mom was in rehab. Mom had spiraled out of control and it was one fateful night that I found her passed out unconscious in a pool of her own vomit, convulsing through her OD. I took her into the ER and that’s when they diagnosed her with her condition. Bipolar. Mental illness. Alcoholic. Drug addict.

  A social worker spoke with me about it, educating me on the facts about her illness and learning that many people with mental illness will try to self-medicate themselves using drugs and alcohol. She explained that once my mom was properly medicated, things would even out. My mom also agreed to voluntarily check herself in to a rehab program run by the state and get the help she needed. I was eighteen at the time, old enough to act as the legal guardian for Anika, so they couldn’t place us in foster care.

  I did what I had to do to make it through those harrowing six months. We crashed at some friends’ houses for as long as we could. Stayed in a women and children’s shelter through the Y for a few months, and then just found it easier to crash in the old beat-up wagon my mother owned. Not ideal, but I wanted Anika to remain in school and with me. I worked during the day, saving up where I could to spend on cheap hotel rooms once a week. Where we could take showers and sleep soundly through the night.

  I did all of that in the hope that my mother would get better. That once she worked through her issues, evened her brain chemistry out, she’d come back full force and be the mother that I needed her to be - for me and for Anika.

  And now as I look at my mother, her long dark hair swept back over a shoulder, the same blue eyes I have staring back at me, I want to scream at her. Gauge those eyes out. Because I know what’s coming next.

  “Hey, baby. How are you? I’ve missed you.” She moves around the bed and steps toward me, intent on giving me a hug, which I sidestep to avoid. I watch as her shoulders slump in despair.

  “When were you going to tell me you were leaving?” I practically spit, the anger encroaching the space between us. Her face acknowledges the truth. “Oh, I see…you weren’t going to tell me. You were just going to leave us here…leave Ani on her own again.”

  Oh God, Anika.

  My sweet, darling girl. So innocent, yet battered from the life she’s been given. Fuck, I’m so mad right now I want to hit something. Don’t you know how much this hurts? She needs a mother. She needs you.

  This time, I’m determined to keep myself together. I won’t shed a tear over her absence. I’ll pick myself up by my bootstraps, as I always do, and find a way to make the best of it. I won’t let the hatred and anger make me bitter. Disenfranchised. What good would that do?

  “Ainsley, sweetie…it’s not like that. I swear.” She reaches for my hand but I snap it away from her grip. “Brad asked me to come with him to South Dakota. He’s going to be working there for a while and he said there’s lots of jobs up there for me, too.”

  “You have a job here, the last I heard.”

  “I quit.”

  Not surprised. But hurt that she’s so willing to drop everything for a man she barely knows to chase after him to some godforsaken wasteland. And no, I haven’t been to South Dakota, but it sounds horrible. Cold. Desolate. Isolated. Just like me.

  A sob wrenches from my chest and before I can stop myself, my body is racked with immobilizing despair. Not for me, but for my sister.

  “Please mom…don’t do this. Don’t leave Anika when she needs you the most. Because I can’t do it alone. I can’t…”

  My mom is quick and her arms are thrown around me tight before I even have a chance to wiggle away. Although I want to hate her, I can’t. I know she’s done the best she can for us, even in the midst of dealing with her demons that possess her mind.

  “I’ve already talked to Anika and she’s coming with me.”

  My stomach bottoms out and an instant tidal wave of nausea hits me. The urge to puke is threatening me, but I swallow it down because I need to keep myself together. My mind races through objections as to why Anika needs to stay here. Stay with me. But it will be of no use. Once my mother makes up her mind about something, there’s no swaying her decision.

  This throws me for a loop. On one hand, I know I can’t raise Anika alone right now. I’d have to quit school to be with her. There’s no other way.

  On the other hand, losing Anika – letting my mom take my sister with her is a sure fire disaster.

  “Mom,” my voice comes out as a squeak. “Ani’s life is here. She’s doing well in school. She has friends here. She’s on a volleyball team. Don’t take her away from all that.” I want to say for a stupid guy that’ll dump you in a few months, but I don’t. Keeping a level head in this situation is what I need.

  Mom shakes her head emphatically. She’s made up her mind. It’s done.

  “I want her there with me. Like you said, she needs me.”

  “What I meant…”

  “I know you love her,” she acknowledges, her hand resting on my shoulder, which is tense and knotted. “And if things don’t work out, we’ll come back sooner.”

  Screaming at her will do nothing, but at least it would release my pent up hostility.

  My body sways a little and I reach behind me to find the edge of the bed, where I sit down in a stupor.

  “How long do you think?”

  Mom’s face scrunches up in consideration over the question.

  “I don’t know. Maybe three, four months.”

  My hands grip the bed spread in my fist.

  “You’re making a mistake. This isn’t good for her to leave. I want you to know that I think you’re wrong.”

  She gives a sigh of resignation. Of finality.

  “I know. And I’m sorry.”

  Not as sorry as I am. I can’t stand to be in the same room with her any longer, so I stand and slowly shuffle to the door and into my bedroom, passing Anika’s open door as I do. She’s not home right now, but I know it will be tough saying our goodbyes.

  I can already feel the loneliness take up residence in my heart. She’s all I have. My little sister is the only one I’ve always counted on to be there with me, no matter what.

  Getting myself dressed and ready to head over to Cad
e’s, it dawns on me that now, more than ever, I need someone to lean on. Cade broke my heart and my trust in a way that no one else has before, except my unstable mother. Yet, I need him. He’s the only one who can help me get through this. The problem is, in order to let him be there for me, I must forgive him. Because then, and only then, will we have a chance to become friends again.

  And I need a friend right now more than ever.

  20

  Cade

  I’m wasted.

  Piss ass drunk and feeling hella sorry for myself.

  I’ve been like this for days. Maybe longer. I can’t remember.

  All I know is that I feel lost and alone, even when I’m constantly surrounded by friends and acquaintances.

  And that’s a pretty amazing accomplishment considering that, at the moment, I have a hoop ho practically sitting on my lap.

  I’m actually pretty pissed that Lance and Carver - the dickweasels - decided to throw a party tonight. In honor of our last weekend of freedom before all hell breaks loose with the start of our final college basketball season. Once the doors open next week with the first official practice, it’s buh-bye free time until March. Well, if we make it into the NCAA championships, that is.

  I need to get my head out of my ass if that’s gonna happen. I know it.

  Lance and Carver are worried about me fucking things up this year. I get it. They should be worried. All the motivation and drive to turn this into my greatest year ever has up and vanished with the loss of Ainsley. Carver even called me a vagina the other day over my stupid antics. Oh wait, no, he said, and I quote, “you’re acting like my grandmother’s dried up twat.” Yeah, I don’t want to think about why he knew how dry his grandmother’s vagina was. Ew. Just ew.

  “Yo, Griff. Get your ass over here and let’s rip these guys to shreds.” I barely register the demand from Lance, who is standing over at our makeshift beer pong table. I swivel my head behind me at Christian and Gabe, who are on the opposite end of the table from him.

  I wonder if it’s worth it for me to move from where I sit. I’ve got a beer in one hand and an arm around this chick – Sabrina, or something – who lets out a small noise of protest that I’d even remotely consider leaving.