CHAPTER TEN
Nick
From the minute I arrived in Austin, there was friction between Froggy Jones and myself. Our coach was firmly team Frogg, and while I fit in with the rest of the team, Frogg gave me the impression I was stepping on his toes simply by being there. Some teams excelled when they had more than one-star player, while other teams became famous for the infighting. When there was discord, it was unusual for players to be able to rise above the conflict. The Lakers team with Shaq and Koby was an exception that proved the rule. Most of the time the sort of selfish jealousy ate the team alive from the inside.
The first time I saw Frogg in the locker room, his black shark-like eyes stared straight through me. “Welcome to the team," he said, his words freezing in the air between us.
I tried to remain cordial, and stay out of his way, but every time I had a better game than he did, he slammed things around in the locker room, grousing at everyone else, blaming his teammates for his subpar play. It didn’t matter how large our margin of victory, if Frogg had a bad game he wanted the rest of us to pay.
This led to a split in team loyalties. A couple of times when I’d happened upon a few members of the team, and they got really quiet really fast, making me think that they’d been talking about me before I came up. One day in the weight room I mentioned it to Legion.
“Why is Frogg so down on me? You’d think he’d realize that with me here we can win the whole thing.”
“That’s not how he thinks though.”
I shook my head.
“He doesn’t know anything but to be the big dog. He doesn’t like you comin’ in here, marking your turf. Cuz it’s his turf. That’s how he sees it anyway.”
“But, why can’t he just put all that aside for the good of the team? Doesn’t he want to win?”
“Sure, he does. He just doesn’t think he needs you for that.” Legion laughed.
“We’ve only lost one game since I’ve been here. Before I got here you guys were 4-3.”
“You don’t have to tell me. I’m glad as fuck you’re here. He doesn’t like to share the spotlight, that’s all.”
“You sure that’s all?”
“Yeah. What else would there be?”
"I heard he's been talking smack about my family."
"Your family?"
"You know, the reality show, all the celebrity stuff."
Legion considered this. "Makes sense that would bother him. He came up in the hood, so it's probably not just you edging up in his backyard, but he also probably resents your upbringing." Legion laughed. “It’s bad enough you’re a white boy, but you’re a white boy from a superstar family showin’ him up. Man, you’re lucky he doesn’t kick your ass.” Legion snickered. He thought this was hilarious. I’d grown up not seeing color, but for some people the difference was there, and sometimes it complicated things.
"It's not like I can do anything about that." I let the barbells drop heavy onto the floor. Sure, I'd been born with every advantage money could buy. And while it had given me a leg up in many ways, it also gave me something to prove. Growing up, lots of the kids I played against had cushy lives, but the older I got, the really good kids mostly came from challenged backgrounds. What most people saw as a disadvantaged background made them hungry.
Kids like Froggy didn’t play basketball for fun like my friends did. The played it to get out. To rescue their family from a life with drive-by shootings and welfare checks. And ballin’ because it was the only way out of a desperate situation—well, that brought with it a whole different mindset than I’d been raised with.
I had a lot of respect for Frogg, hell, for all my teammates regardless of where they came from. There’s nobody playing professional basketball who hasn’t learned what sacrifice is, who hasn’t worked their ass off.
I just wished Froggy would give me a chance to earn his respect. He didn’t have to hand it to me, I’d be glad to earn it. But I wasn't sure how to make that happen.
Later, I was leaving the gym when I got a call from Lucinda.
“Yeah,” I answered obnoxiously, fully aware of the childishness of my passive aggressive greeting and owning it.
"Have you thought any more about the possibility of you doing a spinoff show down there in Austin?"
My mother was the most determined person I'd ever met. The proverbial dog with a bone, but she’d be a perfectly coiffed poodle with painted nails and a diamond collar, and I sensed her bite would slay her bark in a competition.
"I've thought about it, and it's a no." It felt so fucking good to say no to her that I practically did a fist pump into the air.
"I'm not sure you've thought about it enough, dear, really given it enough consideration. Don’t you realize how much it could help your career?"
After talking to Legion earlier, the idea of bringing cameras into my world would only infuriate Froggy Jones further. It sounded more like something that would get my ass kicked and bring even more turmoil to the Athletics, and that was highly undesirable.
“You know what would help my career?”
“What?”
“Scoring more points. Getting more rebounds. Blocks. You know—playing basketball. I'm pretty sure a reality show is a bad idea."
Lucinda would never understand. I couldn’t explain to her the tenuous dynamics at play when it came to our team chemistry. All she cared about was furthering the careers of her children and making more money. The only team she was concerned about was team Barnes, and I grudgingly had to give her credit for fighting tirelessly for that team every single day.
She prattled on as if I hadn't said anything. "I can assemble an entire camera crew to come down and film you. They can follow you to the different cities when you're on the road. It won't be a problem at all. We have the budget for it."
"I'm not sure the national basketball organization would go for that, Mom." This was true. If anyone was making money off the backs of their players they wanted it to be them. I couldn't see them being thrilled with this proposal of hers.
"You leave that part to me."
"Mother just listen to me. I'm not interested in doing it." I spoke more firmly now and hoped she would hear me.
"Whatever you say."
But I knew that wasn't going to be the end of it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Eden
"Andrea, that uniform is getting too tight in the bust. I mean look at the way she is spilling out of that top."
"It's almost obscene, isn't it?"
My cheeks felt like they were on fire. I absolutely hated being called to the director's office, especially when they made you feel like you were a piece of meat under inspection.
"And look at her middle. It's like her curves have gone straight. Like her waist is getting thicker, you know?" Margo continued like I wasn’t even there.
The choreographer folded her arms across her chest. "Oh yeah, I do know. I hate to even ask you this, Eden, but you think there is any way you could be pregnant?"
My jaw dropped. "Pregnant?" I gulped.
Margo screwed her mouth up to one side. "Oh my God, she does look pregnant," she said to Andrea, still ignoring me.
All of a sudden, the room seemed to be spinning, and I reached down for something to steady me. My fingers grasped the arms of a chair, and I sank down into it.
Suddenly I could hear Nick’s voice, the words repeating themselves in my head...
Damn condom broke.
Damn condom broke.
Damn condom broke.
"I-I-I don't think so." I certainly wasn't going to tell these two that pregnancy could be a possibility. They like to think of their cheerleaders as untouched pillars of virtue. They must have assumed the girls who were married had some form of a sex life, but the rest of us were supposed to be as pure as the driven snow. And my body hadn’t changed. I might have eaten pizza last week, but that’s all it was. I’d run an extra few miles this week and burn it right off.
"You won't be
the first cheerleader to get knocked up while doing this job." Andrea frowned.
"No." Margo spat the word out as if it tasted bad in her mouth.
I sat up straight, trying to gather myself. "I can't imagine it's that. I've probably just gained a little weight."
The look on their faces told me they were not convinced.
"Get you a test and take it tonight or tomorrow morning. Because if you are, we need to know as soon as possible so we can make arrangements.” Margo pursed her lips into a thin line.
"Arrangements?"
"Of course. You don't think we can have pregnant cheerleaders out there on the field, do you?" She scowled.
"No, it's not that. I just thought…"
"Well you thought wrong."
That night I walked into a drugstore, my stomach tied in so many different knots that felt like they’re never untangle. My hand shook as I placed the pregnancy test on the checkout counter. In a futile attempt to distract the cashier and other patrons from my purchase I also bought some razors, toothpaste, and a big bottle of expensive spring water. The girl who was ringing me had difficulty scanning the pregnancy test, so she picked up her phone and said into the loudspeaker, "Price check on store brand pregnancy test, register one." And for the second time that day my cheeks burned like they were aflame.
I don't know why it was so embarrassing to purchase a pregnancy test, I mean I was an adult and adults had sex, but it was mortifying. I told myself that every person standing in that line was there because their mother had a positive pregnancy test, but it didn't make me feel any better. As soon as I swiped my card, I scrabbled to get my purchases into their plastic bag and zipped out the door as fast as I could. On the way home, I tried to convince myself that if I was pregnant, I had options. Fortunately, I had the means to support a child so I could keep the baby, or I could terminate the pregnancy. I could tell the father, or I could not tell the father. All the options were mine. But somehow none of it staved off the cloud of anxiety that made it hard to breathe. The one that threatened to engulf me.
I had always envisioned I’d have my first child with my husband after we carefully planned our lives together. First, we would have a lovely wedding, my mother would play the harp, or one of her hippie friends would offer their musical talents. Maybe I would be barefoot and we’d dig our toes in the sand in some exotic tropical location. A destination wedding.
In any case it would be nice and small, and my husband would think I hung the moon, and he would be my everything. Every time he looked at me I would melt, and we’d know we were perfect for each other.
Then, after we traveled for a few years, then we might consider having a baby.
A completely different scenario than having a baby bump protruding from the front of my cheerleading uniform.
I wasn't ready.
This couldn't be happening.
I forced myself to take a deep breath.
There was no evidence that Margo and Andrea were right. They were insanely in tune with the bodies of their cheerleaders, and they were famous for being reactionary. Leave it to them to mistake a poor lunch choice for a baby.
I tried to laugh it off, push their words out of my mind, but I, too, had noticed my cleavage looking a bit more ample…
When I got home, I tossed the bag from the drugstore on the couch and plopped down next to it. I pulled out the pregnancy test and started reading the instructions on the side of the box. It said the best results could be obtained in the morning, so I would wait.
I pulled out my laptop and started researching online. Articles there said I needed to recall the first day of my last period.
Did people really know this stuff?
Apparently so, especially women who had regular periods. Mine were so irregular that I had no way to predict when my monthly “friend” would drop by for a visit.
But after wracking my brain for a while I was able to pin down my last one to within a few days.
It had been over six weeks.
That sounded like a long time, but I wasn’t sure if it was even abnormal for me.
I cupped my breasts. Maybe they weren’t bigger. Margo and Andrea were exaggerating to make a point about my diet. I’d probably wake up in the morning to my period, and I’d just have to eat cleaner—lay off the carbs for a few days or until Margo and Andrea were satisfied.
If my waist was getting thicker, I could just do a few of those twisting exercises designed to slim down the torso. An abs class at the gym.
I tried to watch some TV, but my mind kept wandering back to the potential pregnancy. I opened my phone to the various social media apps and started scrolling. The more possibilities to distract me, the better. It didn't really work, but it did pass the time until my eyes finally started getting bleary, and I staggered off to bed. I slept fitfully, until I got up around two a.m. and decided that if I peed now it could be considered first thing in the morning. Without hesitation I ripped open the box that held the pregnancy test and peed on the stick. I set the stopwatch on my phone for the requisite five minutes and waited.
After the longest five minutes of my life was up, I finally looked.
A red plus sign.
For a second I was frozen, then I looked at the box just to make sure. It showed a circle with a plus sign and underneath it the words said “pregnant”, then it showed a circle with a minus sign with the words “not pregnant.”
My stomach fell through the floor, and I squeezed my eyes shut. This couldn't be happening.
I couldn't believe this happened to me. This was the kind of thing that happened to other people, not me.
But even as my brain registered these thoughts, I realized how ridiculous they were. Everyone always thought “it won’t happen to me.” Until it did.
What was I going to do now?
This was what I got for behaving frivolously, pretending that it was okay to gamble with my heart and my body.
I had been raised to focus on serious endeavors. My mother preached that I needed to become the opposite of my father. I'd gone against that when I tried out for cheerleader. My mother had been okay with it as long as it was merely an outlet for my creative side. But hooking up with Nick Barnes had been a mistake—a life-changing one.
As if I were in a dream I staggered back to my bed and crawled under the covers.
My mother was going be disappointed in me. I was going to get kicked off the cheerleading squad.
I was going to be an unwed mother.
A single mother. On my own.
At least I had financial resources. But money wasn't all you needed to raise a child. You needed love, which I would give to my baby. My mother would come around, and she would love the baby… Would that be enough?
My mind was wide awake now, working overtime to process this new development. My thoughts whirred until the sun came out.
Around this time, I decided that maybe that test was wrong. With my background in science I knew tests could sometimes give you a false positive, so I took the other test out of the box.
I went to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of orange juice. After downing it, I went to my guest bathroom and peed on the second stick. Superstitiously I hoped using my guest bathroom would give me different results than I’d gotten before when I used the other bathroom.
But five minutes later, I received the same results.
Clearly, I was pregnant.
I was trying to figure out what to do next when my phone started ringing.
It was Dynassy.
Crap. Normally I would tell Dynassy. These days I told her everything. But I definitely could not tell her this. This baby belonged to her brother. Would this somehow make Dynassy and I related? I liked the idea of that, but I didn't like the idea of having to discuss any of this with Nick.
I ignored the call. I’d text her later with some excuse that I’d been in the shower. I had to figure out some things before I talked to her.
As amazing as Nick was, I coul
dn't imagine having a family with him.
Nick was the sort of guy you’d have a fling with. The kind of guy you had a crush on but who would turn out to be just like his father and mine—a playboy with access to a never-ending string of beauties standing around waiting to drop to their knees for him.
No thank you.
I’d had a dad like that, and my mother warned me all the time not to choose someone like that for my life partner.
Men with groupies caused too much heartache. I’d watched my mother go through it, and I didn’t want that. For myself or my baby.
Plus, it seemed like sports stars like Nick were even more famous for their cheating ways than rock stars these days. It was as if it were in their contracts that they had to screw a different chick in every city they visited.
Up until now I’d avoided thinking about Nick’s extracurricular activities. I’d been living in a fantasy land, oblivious to his potentially roving eye, just enjoying our time together.
I’d tried to protect myself physically by using condoms with him. Not that it had done any good...
The bigger mystery was how to protect myself emotionally from him. I had definitely been falling for Nick. I guess in the back of my mind, I knew that one day things with Nick and me would end like the sort of fiery crash that took our fathers and separated us when we were young. I’d been just living day by day, enjoying what we had while it lasted. But things had suddenly reached a new level of complicated, and now I needed to figure out what to do, and fast.
Because it was no longer only my heart that was at stake.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Eden
Later that morning I made what had to be the most awkward and unpleasant phone call I’d ever had to make. It ranked up there with the time I’d had to call my mother from school to tell her I’d been suspended. My friends and I’d been caught with a flask at a school dance over the weekend. It had been in my handbag so I’d been singled out as the ringleader. The principal had made us stew over the weekend by waiting until the following Monday to dole out our punishments. I didn’t want to replicate the dread I’d felt so I placed the call as soon as I knew Margo would be in her office.
The Barnes Family Romances: (Books 1-3) Page 7