The Assist (Smart Jocks #1)

by Rebecca Jenshak

She shakes her head. “No, I quit my job at the café. I got a job with the campus career center. I’m going in tomorrow to get things set up.”

  Joel appears at my side and pulls Blair into a hug. He’s drunk and completely oblivious to the moment he just barged in on.

  “Blair, it’s so good to see you. You coming back to the house? We’re having some people over for a little after party.”

  I grind my teeth. “We are?”

  “No, sorry. I was just telling Wes I got a new job teaching workshops on goal setting and choosing a career path.”

  “That’s a thing?” Joel asks with a confused expression on his face.

  “It is. It’s an optional workshop taught once a month by an upper classman. I’ll also be occupying a table at the tutor center for one-on-one sessions and tips on setting and achieving goals.”

  “Who would go to something like that?”

  I elbow him in the ribs. “Sounds”—I search for the words, any words but the ones that are coming to mind—“interesting.”

  “Yeah, well, let’s hope others think so.”

  “Good to see you, Joel.”

  She faces off with me. “Wes.”

  She takes a step, and I grab her arm. The heat and spark between us surprises me, not because my feelings have changed but because I haven’t felt anything in weeks. How does this girl break through my walls without even trying?

  “It was good to see you, Blair.”

  “Take care of that foot. And maybe give your mom a pass this once. She’s crying because of your loss—not hers. It is a hopeless feeling to watch the people you love go through tough times with nothing to do but hope they’ll accept whatever support you offer.”

  She breezes past me like she didn’t just cut me down at the knees.

  And the fuck . . . she didn’t say it was good to see me too.

  29

  Blair

  “It’s gonna be incredible, V. I have my own little cubicle at the tutor center, and I bought this letter board so I can post inspirational sayings or quotes so everyone that comes in can get a little bit of positivity added in their day.”

  She chuckles but throws her arm around me. “I’m proud of you. Tossing inspiration around like confetti while your boyfriend is being an ass.”

  “He isn’t my boyfriend,” I grumble. “We were a casual thing, and now it’s over I guess.”

  “Mm-hmm. Spin it however you want, but I saw the way he looked at you the other night.”

  “Well, regardless, it’s been a week, and I haven’t heard a peep from him.”

  Vanessa gives me a reassuring smile.

  “It’s fine.” I shake off the sting of rejection. “On a happier note, Gabby is coming up next week to meet with an advisor and scope out the campus. Fingers crossed it goes well and that senior year the three of us can get an apartment off campus together.”

  “Now you’re talking.”

  Her phone beeps, and she gets that look on her face that tells me it’s Mario, which is confirmed when she says, “Mario says the guys are having a party tonight. What do you say we go celebrate surviving the first day of a new semester and your awesome new job?”

  “I dunno.”

  “Come on. The basketball guys are at an away game, so you don’t have to worry about running into them, and I’ll tell Mario I’m spending the party hours with my best girl. I promise I will not leave your side.” She sticks out her bottom lip, pouting and looking ridiculous.

  “All right, all right. It’s better than sitting around here feeling sorry for myself.”

  There are more people than I’ve ever seen crowded into the small space. Looks like everyone is looking for a way to celebrate the beginning of a new semester. “This is insane.”

  “I know, right?” Vanessa says as she pushes through the living room. “Mario is probably downstairs. Let’s get a drink and say hello.”

  With plastic cups filled with vodka and Sprite, we move toward the music pumping downstairs. Unlike the last time I was here, the basement is so packed that I can’t even tell it’s a dilapidated shithole.

  We skirt the edges of the dance floor, holding hands so we don’t lose each other. “I see Clark and some of the other guys on the other side, maybe Mario is with them.”

  I sip my drink and sway to the music, following V. It feels good to be out and not to be obsessing over if or when Wes might call.

  A row of couches are pushed back against the far wall and people are smushed on them, girls on laps of guys I recognize. Clark is holding on tight to a busty redhead, and another guy I recognize as one of Mario’s roommates is leaning back, letting a petite blonde rape his face. She’s using so much tongue that I cringe and look away.

  But what I see next stops me in my tracks. His lap is currently playing host to a beautiful brunette who has her hand affectionately resting on his chest. He’s drunk, that much would have been clear even if he didn’t have a tequila bottle in his hand.

  “What the fuck, Wes?” It’s Vanessa’s voice, not my own, that gets his attention.

  When his eyes find mine, they’re filled with regret and pain. He sits forward like he’s going to get up, but I’m not interested in talking to him. Not now. Maybe not ever again.

  I turn and flee the way I came, pushing through the crowd as best as I can with my eyes blurred with unshed tears.

  I make it all the way to the porch before Wes catches up to me. He puts his big body in front of me. “Wait, damn it, woman. Hold up.”

  His breathing is labored, and he grabs ahold of the railing like he needs the support.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Hanging with Mario and the guys. Nothing happened with that chick. She just sat down. I didn’t do anything.”

  Nothing happened? God, if that isn’t the guilty man’s anthem, then I don’t know what is. Laughter bubbles in my chest. “I meant why aren’t you in California with the team?”

  He shrugs. “Didn’t feel like it.”

  He reaches out and caresses my cheek, brushing away a tear before he leans in bringing a waft of alcohol with him. I step back.

  “You’re free to do whatever or whomever you want. You’ve made it very clear that whatever we were, we aren’t anymore. Just leave me alone.”

  He looks conflicted about my words, but I mean it. I don’t want to talk to him when he’s like this. I knew standing by while he dealt with his shit would be hard, but this is too much. “Please. I’m begging you. Not here. Not tonight.”

  He nods and tucks his hands into his front pockets before turning back to the house. I sag against the railing when he’s gone and let all the tears fall. I don’t even know why I’m crying. Despite the cliché, I believe that nothing happened between him and the chick downstairs. Not yet anyway. And I guess that’s what wrecks me —he is going to move on, and man, does it sting to picture him with other girls.

  “Aww, don’t tell me the happy couple broke up?” David’s voice is like adding insult to injury. He walks out on to the porch with a beer in hand.

  “I don’t have anything to say to you, David. What are you even doing here?”

  He shrugs. “Looks like the whole university is here tonight.”

  “Go away.” I bite back the horrible words I want to say. “Please.”

  David smiles cruelly. “Reynolds cut you loose, huh? Maybe we should work out another agreement.” He leans in. “You didn’t really think I deleted all the pictures just because you got your boyfriend to threaten me, did you?’ He laughs. “Knew that wouldn’t last.”

  My control, and probably my sanity, snaps. Killing him with kindness seems to be a losing battle. “You know what, David? Go to hell. You’re a shitty excuse for a human.” I shove past him and walk all the way home, hugging myself as I ugly cry. As I crawl into bed, I promise myself that, after tonight, I won’t shed one more tear over Wes Reynolds. I will cry out all the sadness to make room for hope, but the only thing I’m hoping for is to turn back to a
time where Wes and I were happy.

  30

  Wes

  I wake up with my cell phone resting on my chest. Technology is awesome . . . until it’s not. Having a way for someone to get a hold of you any time, any day makes it that much more painful when they don’t.

  I spent the past two days texting Blair, apologizing every way I could think of. I deserve to be ghosted after how I treated her, I get that, but it doesn’t suck any less.

  I give in to the temptation and check for missed texts that I know won’t be there. My pessimism is on point, but I’m disappointed anyway.

  “What the hell are you doing up?” I ask Nathan as he steps into the living room and pulls his hair back into a low ponytail.

  He startles. “What the hell are you doing sleeping on the couch?”

  “I’m not sleeping.”

  He drops onto the floor and starts repping out pushups.

  “Dude, it’s five in the morning.”

  I’m met with silence and the even exhale of his breaths.

  “Fifty,” he mutters quietly and jumps up. He moves to the wall and dips down into a wall squat. “You smell awful, man.”

  “Yep.” I acknowledge the stench and the disgusting taste in my mouth from falling asleep after a night of drinking without brushing my teeth. “Feel just as awful.”

  Rubbing a hand over my forehead, I can practically feel the throbbing through my fingertips. I sit up slowly and grab the water I left on the coffee table, drain it, and then sit back, feeling a little more human.

  “Since you’re up, how about helping me with some band work?”

  “Here? Now?”

  “Nah, I’m meeting Shaw at the gym in five.”

  Lean back on the couch. “Pass.”

  “Come on, we need a third.” He pushes off the wall. “And you know we could use the extra work. Got a lot of tough games coming up. Z’s gonna need some help down low.”

  My better judgment hasn’t had time to wake up or sober up, and he’s played to my weakness—Z. “Yeah, fine. Let me shower quick.”

  It isn’t until we’re outside making our way across the street to Ray Fieldhouse that my stomach revolts and the alcohol in my system starts to seep out my pores. Haven’t been back since I was carted out to the hospital with a broken foot. In fact, it’s probably the longest I’ve gone without stepping into a gym since I started playing all those years ago.

  To my surprise, Shaw is already here, running drills. His sweat-soaked shirt and wet hair tell me he’s been here a while. I bite back my approval.

  “Reynolds, nice to see you.” The shock in Rookie’s eyes combined with the pity dissolve all good feelings.

  For the next hour, I basically play ball boy. Shaw and Nathan take turns. One wraps a resistance band around his waist and the other holds the ends of the band tight and pulls backward. When I set the ball on the floor a couple of feet away, they work against each other. The point isn’t to keep the guy in front from getting the ball, it’s to provide just enough resistance that he has to earn it.

  My roommate has a good flow with Rookie. There’s an ease to their routine like they’ve done it before.

  “When did you two become besties?” I ask Nathan when Shaw takes a piss break.

  He lifts one shoulder and lets it fall. “He needed someone to see beyond the multi-sport athlete thing. You know I don’t give a shit about that stuff.”

  I do know that. Not much except silence during movie night gets Nathan riled up. He’s able to leave the competitive nature and intensity of being a college athlete on the floor. Outside of the gym, he’s just a chill dude looking for fun.

  “Taking your spot, trying to do what you do? It isn’t an easy job. If we’re gonna have any type of shot in the tournament, he has to start meshing with the guys. Some of the team resents him for splitting time, some are just frustrated that he isn’t you, but no one feels good about where we are. It’s a shitty place to be this far into the season.”

  I pull at my hair, hearing what he’s saying and understanding the things he doesn’t say. I’d been helping the rook until I realized I was done for, and now he has to find his way all on his own. Shitty for him, but I’m not in a mood to compare our tragic tales. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Just show up, man. That’s all anyone wants from you.”

  31

  Blair

  Vanessa sits at her desk across our small room. “Do people actually attend these workshops?”

  My shoulders slump. If my friends’ reactions are any indication, the answer to that is a big fat no. “I don’t know. I hope so.”

  “Want me to come by for moral support?”

  “No, no. It’s fine. I just need to help one person. Then they’ll tell their friends and so on and so forth. Plus, I think the real difference will be in the one-on-one sessions at the tutoring center. Goals are personal.”

  “Well, I’m really proud of you no matter what. And you’ve inspired me. Look, I bought one of those fancy paper planners.” She holds up the spiral-bound planner like a proud elementary school student with coveted new crayons.

  “Impressive.”

  “Well, it will be if I remember to fill the thing out.”

  I have my doubts. An electronic planner seems way more V’s style, but far be it for me to keep her from attempting organization.

  “Heard from Wes since the other night?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes?” She turns in her chair, which I only know because it squeaks. I’ve turned my attention back to my desk to study my own planner carefully. I’ve kept this information to myself because Vanessa is currently still seeing red when it comes to Wes. He may have a boot on his foot and a basketball shaped hole in his heart, but apparently, this doesn’t save him from the wrathful blowback of hurting V’s friend.

  I sigh. “He texted to apologize again for the other night."

  "Still hasn't apologized for being an ass for the three weeks before that?"

  "No. Maybe I made too big of a deal out of it. We were nothing—we never put a label on it.”

  “Bullshit. Uh-uh. Don’t you dare let his behavior make you feel like you don’t deserve to be upset. That boy was falling all over you. I get that he went through some shit, but he doesn’t get a get-out-of-jail-free card just because he suddenly grew a conscious. You deserve more.

  “All right, all right. Point made. You may step down from your soap box now.”

  V smiles. “Good. What time is Gabby getting here?”

  “Her mom is dropping her by after their campus tour.”

  She stands and rubs her hands together. “Perfect. That gives me time to dress myself and then you.”

  I don’t bother fighting. A little bit of V pampering and a night out with my two favorite girls sounds perfect.

  “People are staring at me!” Gabby hisses and ducks her head.

  “Actually, they’re staring at Blair.” Vanessa gives me a once over and her glossy, hot-pink lips twist into a smile. “You should let me dress you more often.”

  I tug at the hemline of my dress as another guy openly checks me out in a way that does not make me feel beautiful. “It’s like major creep alert tonight.”

  “Come on, let’s go to the bar. Those legs are going to get us free drinks.”

  “Fine. I want to check my phone anyway.”

  I haven’t given in and texted Wes back, but I’m anxiously waiting for each one he sends. It feels good to be on the receiving end of his attention, even if it’s just to clear his guilt.

  “Oh no. We are not texting Wes tonight. You need to stop being available to him until he mans up and claims you. If you let him, he’s going to pull you back into that weird thing that’s casual but not because you spend all your time together, and its bullshit. He either wants you for real or he can take a hike.”

  This coming from the queen of casual. At least before Mario. “I can see what you’re thinking. You aren’t me. You’re in love with h
im, and I just don’t want to see you get hurt if he decides to ghost. Again.”

  I look to Gabby for backup. She shakes her head. “I’m with her.”

  “I wasn’t going to text him. I just like re-reading the ones he sent.”

  Okay, I’ve reached pathetic. I read it loud and clear on their concerned faces.

  “You’ve made your point,” I say, rolling my eyes and leaving my phone in my purse as we belly up to the bar.

  “So, Gabs, are you coming to Valley next year?”

  Leave it to Vanessa to cut right to the chase. I’d been hesitant to ask about how Gabby’s day went. I knew this was hard for her and would be a big step.

  “I’m not sure,” she admits and plays with her hair, twisting and turning it around her fingers so it covers the left side of her face.

  “You just need to own it. Pull that hair away from your face and hold your head up proudly. You’re stunning, and people are going to stare. You show them that it doesn’t bother you, and it won’t bother them.”

  Gabby doesn’t look convinced, but she does hold her head higher as the bartender comes to get our drink order.

  “What can I get you ladies?” The bartender is a Valley grad student who Vanessa has dubbed the hottest guy on campus and also off limits. I can’t argue with her reasoning unless I want the bartender at the most popular bar in town adding me to the no-serve list.

  “Hey, don’t I know you?” He points at me and narrows his eyes.

  “Me?” I look around. “I don’t think so. I mean . . . we come in occasionally. I’m Blair.” I extend my hand to try to smooth over the awkward exchange.

  He takes my hand and nods, recognition in his eyes. “You’re one of the Valley Wild girls.”

  “The what?” V and I say at the same time.

  “Yeah, your hair is pulled up in the photo, but I can tell it’s you.”

  Bile coats my throat as he pulls out his phone, taps the screen a few times, and turns it toward us.