I found out from the reactions of some of the girls around me that the word was starting to trickle around campus, in spite of the fact that I hadn’t said anything about it, and Devon had only just begun to introduce me to his frat brothers and friends. But then, I thought, they had girlfriends too—the word would be common knowledge before long. When I looked up from my phone with a little grin because of a flirty little comment from Devon, suggesting what we could be doing instead of me being in class and him hanging out at the frat playing Xbox, I saw a handful of girls watching me enviously. When I laughed at a joke he’d sent me, on my way from one class to another, I heard a jealous whisper from someone I didn’t know, telling her friend that I would crash and burn like all the rest of Devon’s conquests.
I didn’t even try and tell them off; it didn’t bother me. Yes, Devon had a past, and yes, he had slept around, but I had complete faith in him. He was serious about me—hadn’t he proved that? He was serious about becoming a better person; someone who didn’t just think that winning was the only goal. He wanted to be a good student, he wanted to earn my trust, he wanted to be the kind of guy that I knew he was capable of being. There was no point in trying to sort out which of the girls around me was a spiteful, envious ex, and which was a jealous girl who wanted her own shot at the basketball star. Devon was with me, and I was with him, and that was all that mattered.
I didn’t mention anything about it to the other girls when I met them in the dining hall; they would find out soon enough, and our relationship was still in the early days. I didn’t want to hear anything from them about what a mistake I was making, or that Devon would just treat me the way he had all the other girls he’d been with. I knew it wasn’t true, but the last thing I wanted was to fight with them. I didn’t bring Kelly up at all, instead focusing on gossip about the professors—like Dr. March dating a former student, or Dr. Fowles pitting the anthropology kids against each other to compete for the chance to join her on a research expedition.
I went to the rest of my classes for the day, wishing that I could see Devon, thinking of how good it would be when we were back together. I missed him the most in the class he had transferred into with me—but I knew that I’d see him again soon enough, and after all, that night we’d be at the game together, cheering for the team. I knew that he would be a great boost to morale, watching them even if he couldn’t be making the winning baskets himself. I was happy; I thought to myself that while it was great watching Devon play, it would be even better to see him cheering the team on, to get his insights as to the game. I wanted him to succeed in retaking the test, but I liked the little break that his suspension brought. It was nice to know that I could have his attention almost completely, that he wouldn’t have to focus on the game and staying at his peak of ability for just a little while.
That afternoon, when my classes were done, Devon met with me on campus, surprising me as I walked out of the building for my last class of the day. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, and I squealed, struggling for just a moment before I realized who it was. “You jerk!” I said, turning around in his arms and giving him a playful cuff to the shoulder.
“As if you didn’t know it was me,” he pointed out, kissing me quickly in front of everyone. I broke away from his lips, laughing and shaking my head.
“What, you don’t think your girlfriend is so hot that random guys would accost her on the walkway?” Devon let out a growl.
“If they do you just tell me who it is and I’ll beat the life out of him,” he told me, kissing me again. “I won’t have it.” He loosened his hold on me, and I slipped free of his arms, taking his hand.
We went to the Student Union for a while to kill some time before dinner, and Devon told me about the team that the school was up against that night. “They’re not our prime rivals, but they’re a good team,” he said, explaining the differences in play. It was fascinating for me to hear his analysis, the way he sized up the different players on the other school’s team and their strengths and weaknesses. I knew that Devon was a great player—but listening to him, comparing our knowledge of tactics and strategy, I thought that he must have almost as much information as the coach himself. “It’s so good to be with someone who really likes the game,” he told me, smiling as he brushed a lock of my hair out of my face.
“You would not believe the number of guys who have looked at me like a freak because I know stats,” I told him, shaking my head.
“Probably thought that you were too good to be true!” Devon gave my hand a squeeze. “You are, you know. Smart, gorgeous, great taste in music and you love basketball. What more could a guy ask for?” I rolled my eyes.
“Not all guys love basketball. If you were a hockey player, I’d be totally screwed. I don’t know anything at all about baseball, either.” Devon laughed.
“Baseball is pretty boring, so I can give you a pass on that. If you really want to learn about hockey, there’s a couple of guys in the frat who play on the school’s team, I can have them teach you.”
“I’m happy with basketball as my sport of choice,” I told Devon, leaning in for a kiss.
We went to dinner together, sitting at a table with some of his friends, and Devon told me it was weird but awesome to be able to just eat a meal without having to think too much about whether it would weigh him down, whether it would be enough carbs and protein to last him through the game or if he should pick something else. “Maybe you should,” one of his frat brothers commented jokingly. “I mean, she’s coming home with you after the game, you’ll want staying power—right?” I rolled my eyes, throwing a piece of bread at the guy, and Devon gave my thigh a quick squeeze underneath the table, flashing a grin at me.
After dinner, we went to the game, Devon collecting our tickets at the box office before leading me through the doors. In spite of the fact that he was in a general sense of disgrace, everyone made a point of saying hello to him, giving me a little smile for being in the company of the star. The basketball bunnies—the girls who wanted to nail one of the members of the team, most of them with their eyes set on Devon in particular—gave me looks to kill, trying to flirt with Devon, but having no success. He led me down to the seats that his friend had gotten for us and went out to the concession stand while I held onto our spots, to buy me a soda—I didn’t want a beer—and a bottle of water. “I want to hear you cheer your lungs out even though I’m not playing,” Devon told me with a grin. “We can spend half time making out.”
While we were waiting for the game to start, the people in the crowd around us talked to Devon, saying that it was a shame he wasn’t up there on the court, leading the team to victory. “I made a mistake,” Devon said, shaking his head and grinning ruefully. “I think the dean made the right choice, and I’m grateful to get a chance to prove myself. I’m glad I can cheer the team on, even if I can’t be with them on the court.” I admired the fact that he was able to be so professional, so polite and courteous.
It was even better when he introduced me to some of the fans in the special seats along with us as his tutor. “She’s a hard task master,” he said, gesturing to me. “I know she doesn’t look like it, but she’s not as sweet and innocent as she looks. She’s going to get me to learn proper English if it kills me.” I shook hands with the super-fans, alumni and boosters for the team—the people who got the reserved seats alongside family and close friends of the team members. It felt so good, for him to be introducing me that way. It felt like he was really, truly serious about turning over a new leaf, being a better man—and being that better man with me, because of me.
I watched the players take the court for their warm-up, and tried not to be disappointed that Devon wasn’t one of them. From the cheering of the crowd, it was obvious that while everyone else would have preferred Devon to be on the court too, they weren’t going to let the team as a whole down. The coach looked up into the stands and gave Devon a quick, apologetic nod, and Devon gave him a return nod, standing up
and cheering as the guys assembled in their various configurations. “Eventually I’m going to either be kicked out or graduate—one way or another, I’m not going to be on the team anymore,” Devon pointed out to me. “They need to be able to keep going, especially the young guys when I’m off the team. Hell, I could pass the test and get back on the team and then get injured before next season.”
“Don’t say that!” I told him, giving him an elbow to the ribs. “You’ll jinx yourself. I don’t want you injured.” Devon laughed.
“Babe, I’ve been injured more times than I can count. Pulled muscles, sprained ankles, all of it comes with the territory. Even if I could hit the pros after this, eventually I’m going to stop being able to play. It’s just the way things are.”
We cheered our heads off, jumping up and down, and as I watched the game, Devon and I discussed the different strategies that the team was using in his absence. “I’m glad to see Miles and Lee stepping up,” Devon told me as the game went into halftime. “Miles, of course, he has to lead while I’m gone. I figured Lee was ready to get in the game, but there’s never any way to know until it happens.” I pointed out that they weren’t scoring as many points as usual, even if they were keeping up a lead—the offense game was not as strong as it would be when he rejoined them, though the defense was beefing itself up.
“They can’t count on you to score so many points that the other team just can’t even keep up,” I said, grinning. “They have to actually work for it with you on the sidelines.”
“They’ll have to find someone who can score points almost as well as I can.” I shrugged.
“I don’t think anyone can. You’re kind of unique, you know.” Devon laughed at that, pulling me in for a kiss.
“I’m only as good as the woman I’m with,” he told me, holding my gaze. I rolled my eyes.
“You were plenty good at the game long before you met me, you big liar.” I gave him a playful shove and Devon wrapped his arms around me, burying his face against my neck and giving me a playful bite.
“But I’m way better now,” he murmured in my ear. “Better at life, better at studying already, and as soon as I can prove myself, I’ll be better at being a basketball player, too.”
The game started up again, and we went right back to cheering, screaming for the team, moving with the crowd. Devon was every bit as excited as I was—maybe even more so, shouting to his teammates that they could do it, that they could win. Whenever he wasn’t focused entirely on the game, he was focused on me, to the exclusion of everyone else, no matter how the other girls in the crowd around us tried to get him to pay attention to them. I felt almost as excited as I had the night that I’d gone to the game to watch him, after he’d cleared everything up with me and we’d decided to try and see each other seriously. It was so good—I loved it so much. We should go to a pro game if we can get tickets. I bet Devon would love that. I decided that I’d try and find out if either of the teams we liked would be playing locally, so that we could try and score even nosebleed-seat tickets to see them. If Devon had a birthday coming up, that would be a hell of a present.
My attention was torn between Devon—who was definitely interested in kissing or teasing me anytime there was a lull in the game—and the players themselves; the game was more intense without the star player, a closer, tighter game with both teams struggling to keep the advantage. Throughout the second half of the game I tingled all over, my heart pounding in my chest and my throat aching from screaming and cheering but so much adrenaline in my body that I almost couldn’t make myself care that it hurt. I knew my voice would be nearly gone the next day; but standing with Devon, watching the game, being a part of it, made it somehow all worth it. I almost wished that it would go into overtime, that the game would last as long as humanly possible—just to keep that moment, that closeness and the feeling of pride I had as Devon’s girlfriend and tutor, as someone accepted as part of the team dynamic, even in the purely supportive role I had. “You should be on the cheerleading squad,” Devon murmured in my ear as the team took a time-out.
“You just want to see me in a skimpy skirt, jumping up and down for you,” I said tartly, giving him a shove. Devon grinned.
“Oh yeah. And then, too, you’d be able to have a ringside spot for every single game—even the away games.” I laughed and rolled my eyes.
“As long as you can get me tickets, I’ll come to every game, you big dummy. I’d go to every game even if we weren’t dating.” Devon chuckled.
“I see why you want to be my girlfriend now,” he told me, pretending to be offended. “You’re just using me for free tickets!” I rolled my eyes again.
“Right, because I totally went after you. I followed you to a movie theater—oh wait! That was you.” Devon laughed out loud, hugging me tightly before turning his attention back onto the game.
In the end, the team barely eked out a win, keeping only a few points ahead of the other school, and the whole crowd in the arena was exhausted, pumped with adrenaline, screaming and cheering—even the other side, even though they had lost. I couldn’t remember a better game since I had gone to the school, and having Devon at my side was the best part, even if I knew he wished he could be on the court, right alongside his friends and teammates, instead of watching them win.
Chapter Nine
As the team headed off of the court and the crowd started to move towards the exits, Devon gave my hand a quick squeeze. “Hey, do you mind if I head over to the locker room, babe? I want to tell the guys how proud of them I am.” I grinned.
“And you want to hear them tell you that they already wish you were back, right?” Devon shrugged, grinning at me. “Go on.” Devon gave me a quick but lingering kiss, holding my body tightly against his.
“I won’t be long,” he told me. “We need to get some studying in still tonight—and I won’t slack off and disappoint you.” I rolled my eyes, wishing that we could just stay like this—but knowing that Devon needed to hang out with his friends, that he needed to be with them.
“Go, before I distract you again with my feminine wiles,” I told him, slithering free of his arms.
“I’ll text you. You’ll stick around?” I shrugged.
“I got nowhere else to be, except to hang around with you. Text me when you’re done patting everyone on the ass and telling them good game.” Devon laughed, shaking his head and making his way to the exit without me. I watched him go, nodding and smiling at the people who stopped to chat with him, and sat down. I was so tired; but it had been such a great game, even without Devon playing. I could see the excitement in him; I knew that he wished he could be on the court, scoring points with his teammates. I couldn’t take the celebration away from him; he needed to stay in touch, to keep his connection with the rest of the guys. He was going to be playing with them again—it wouldn’t do to completely abandon them now.
I watched as the crowd began to thin, thinking back to the last few times I had been to games; how different this game was from the previous two times. It was hard to believe that it had only been a couple of weeks since I had come out, hoping to tell Devon I had feelings for him, only to run into him afterward, wrapped up in the arms of another girl—a girl who had turned out to be my supposed best friend on campus, my roommate. And then the game before this one, I had watched, cheered, loved seeing Devon—only to find out shortly after the game was won that he was suspended from the team and from the school. I could almost get the feeling that as much as I loved basketball and as much as I loved Devon, that it wasn’t safe for my mental health to go to games; somehow something bad always seemed to happen.
But that was silly. I had never really been superstitious in my life; it wasn’t a great time to start, especially since I was sure that Devon would want me to keep going to games for the rest of the season once he was back on the team. I wandered around the stands, watching the basketball bunnies and fans talking amongst themselves as they started for the exits. I knew there’d be a g
aggle of girls outside of the locker rooms, hoping to hook up with one of the players. There would probably be more than a few reporters milling around also, hoping for a good sound bite, a good quote for their story. I wondered how many of them were still following the story of Devon’s scandal, whether they were just waiting to see if he passed the test, or if they were going to try and get to him to ask him. Whatever the case, I decided, Devon would be able to handle it; he had been able to answer the questions of the fans around us without even batting an eyelash. He would be great as a pro player.
After a few minutes, I decided that if Devon was going to be hanging with his boys, I might as well take the opportunity to run to the bathroom. I knew that even if he wanted to study when we got back to the frat house, eventually we would end up fooling around again, and the soda and the bottle of water he had bought me were starting to have an effect I couldn’t put off dealing with. I made my way towards the exit, looking around at the emptying stands, the court absolutely barren of players. I tried to imagine Devon hanging out in the locker room, celebrating with his teammates, laughing and joking.
After the exciting nail-biter of a game, everyone was obviously hurrying to get back on campus proper, to head to one of the frats or maybe the student union to party, and it was a little strange how quickly the arena had emptied out. I made my way towards the ladies’ room, smiling to myself idly, thinking about how good a time I had had, and how much fun Devon was doubtless having. I hoped that he would be able to pass the test with flying colors and vindicate himself soon. In spite of the fact that I loved having more time with him, and that watching the game with him next to me had been great, I knew he would much rather be on the court. It wasn’t right for him to be anywhere else.
Hooped #4 (The Hooped Interracial Romance Series, Book #4) Page 5