Courtside Crush: Varsity Girlfriends Book One

by Tirrell, Kayla

  “But that was before they were even in high school,” I argued.

  “You don’t think the stories of your notoriety get handed down to each new class?”

  Uh, no. I didn't.

  “The point is I have to make an example of you.”

  “Wait. That’s what all of this is about? My life is on the line because you want to scare a bunch of fourteen-year-olds?”

  I barely contained the anger that simmered beneath the surface. I wanted to report him to the school board, to yell and scream, but there was also a part of me that acknowledged my principal's right to punish me after years of acting out.

  “It’s not the only reason, no. But it’s part of it. I have a responsibility to this school.”

  So my punishment was just part of a bigger picture? The thought didn’t exactly make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

  I knew it wasn’t a good time to ask, but I had to know. I was sick of all this fear of discipline and not knowing if I could play. I was going to stop stressing myself out over every little thing I did on campus.

  Plus, I knew Daria would be dying to know.

  “Speaking of my punishments.” I took a deep breath. “I was wondering, can I still try out for the basketball team while on athletic probation? My eight weeks with Helping Hands will be up around the start of the season.”

  Mr. Richards tipped his chin, allowing the abrupt change in our topic of conversation. “You are welcome to go to tryouts. Just make sure it's abundantly clear to your coach that you can’t play until your probation is finished.”

  My shoulders tensed. The idea of telling Coach that her starting point guard would be out of commission at the season-opening was almost as scary as the expulsion I still faced, but I nodded.

  “And, Miss Royce.” I looked up. “I’m not going to give you detention for being late today, but I need you to understand something. This is your last get-out-of-jail-free card. The next time I catch you ditching school, or acting anything less than the ideal student, we’re going to have to have a serious meeting to revisit your contract. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Mr. Richards.”

  “Good.” He signed a small yellow slip of paper excusing my tardiness and handed it to me. “Now, go to class.”

  I left his office and went directly to Mrs. Whitmore’s class. I did not pass Go, I did not collect $200.

  I handed her the slip and walked toward my desk in the back, careful to keep my head down and not make eye contact with anyone. I swore I heard snickering from Sammi and Linzie’s direction, but I didn’t look at them. I quietly slid into my seat and kept my head facing forward.

  I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Psst. What happened?”

  I gave a small shake of my head.

  “Are you okay?”

  I gave a quick nod.

  “Charlie?”

  I let out an impatient breath and quickly scribbled “I’ll talk to you later,” on a piece of paper and handed it back to her, careful to avoid getting caught by our teacher.

  “I’ve heard that before,” Daria muttered under her breath. I wanted to tell her I meant it this time but didn’t risk another word.

  Chapter Six

  Preston’s and my car magically reappeared after school, although I hadn’t seen my brother roaming the halls or at lunch that day. He stood next to our vehicle as I walked out, looking down at his phone.

  When I got close, he looked up and smiled at me. “What took you so long?”

  Silently, I got into the passenger seat. I slammed the door shut and waited. Soon, the driver’s side door was opening, and Pres was sliding into his place next to me.

  “Charlie, what’s wrong?” he asked. His brows were lowered as he turned to face me head-on.

  “Where were you today?” I snapped, not bothering to hide my irritation.

  Preston’s gaze faltered. “Um, what do you mean?”

  I pressed my lips together and let out a long breath through my nose. “I mean, I came out to the car earlier, and it was gone. And then you were suspiciously missing from lunch and the halls all day. Not to mention, I always beat you to the car because you always spend, like, ten minutes making out with Beth after school.”

  His eyes widened.

  “Oh, like it’s a secret. I’m not an idiot, Pres.” I lifted my hands. “Where were you?”

  My brother ran a hand over his face. “I was practicing.”

  “Practicing what?” My voice was incredulous.

  After a brief pause, he answered under his breath. “Basketball.” His cheeks turned a deep shade of red that matched his hair. “Tryouts are next week, and I want to make sure I’m ready.”

  “Ready?” I rolled my eyes. “Ready for what, Pres? It’s a high school team, not the NBA. You don’t need to skip school to sharpen your skills, especially when you already know you’re gonna make varsity and the starting five.”

  My brother shifted in the driver’s seat, still unable to look at me. There was more to the story, and I could see the moment his resolve broke.

  “Fine,” he said. “It’s this competition with Brooks. I heard that he spent the summer going all over the country doing different basketball training camps.”

  “Really?” I asked, barely stopping myself from telling him how I thought Brooks had probably spent the summer volunteering for Helping Hands. “Who’d you hear that from?”

  “Beth said she overheard Veronica talking about it in the bathroom last week.”

  I pressed my fingers to my temples. “So you’re telling me you skipped school to train for a high school basketball team based on a rumor your girlfriend heard in the bathroom?”

  “When you put it that way…” Preston looked down at the center console of the car. “Please don’t tell Mom and Dad.”

  “I’m not going to tattle on you, Pres,” I assured him. “But I’m guessing the guys on the team all knew?”

  He nodded, a crease forming between his eyes.

  “I guess that explains why Anderson was talking crap to me this morning.”

  Preston’s head snapped up. “What are you talking about?”

  I told him what happened, but added, “And don’t you dare attack Anderson again,” when I was finished. “I know you said that punching him made you guys even in some weird macho way, but I have a feeling that if you go after him again, he’s gonna keep harassing me. I just want this thing with him to be over. Okay?”

  “But—”

  “Okay?” I repeated, my voice firm.

  He didn’t answer right away.

  “I’d really hate for our parents to find out you skipped school today.”

  And I really hated that I was blackmailing him. The irritation in his eyes was clear, but desperate times called for desperate measures. I didn’t want my brother making things worse when I was already struggling to get my life back to normal.

  He eventually nodded. “Okay. But I should have been there today, and I owe you one now.”

  After giving me one last look of concern, Preston put the car in drive. We didn’t talk a lot on the trip, both lost in our thoughts from the day.

  Still grumpy at Preston for skipping school, I could barely concentrate on my homework once we were at our house. After an hour of what I considered more than a valiant effort, I gave up and looked at my phone for a welcome distraction. A text from an unknown number filled my home screen. It had been sent half an hour earlier, but I’d somehow missed the telltale buzz.

  3:02 PM

  Hey, this is Jackson. Is this Charlie?

  Jackson was texting me? I glanced around as if my brother could see through the walls. Once I was satisfied he couldn’t, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to smile or throw my phone against the wall. Not to mention, how the heck had Jackson gotten my phone number? I messaged him back.

  Charlie: Wait. Is this Jackson… or BROOKS? And how did you get my number?

  I hit send and waited.

  And waited.

  When Jac
kson or Brooks or whatever I was supposed to call him didn’t text me back after a stomach-churning five minutes, I put my phone down and went outside to shoot some hoops. I threw shot after shot and quickly realized this is what I should have done as soon as we got home.

  It was incredibly therapeutic to throw the ball at our crappy little hoop in our driveway. The way my muscles burned as I pushed myself harder and harder made me feel alive. I didn’t know how long I spent outside, but I’d almost forgotten my terrible day at school, Preston’s absence, and the weird text Jackson sent me by the time my parents called me in for dinner.

  “How was your day?” Dad asked as the four of us sat around the dinner table.

  “Fine,” Pres and I answered in unison.

  Our dad’s brows creased as he looked back and forth between the two of us and our overly cheerful smiles.

  Oh, yeah. We were great at this.

  “Did something happen?”

  “No.” The word came from both of us once again. For not being twins—or even siblings by blood—we sure had a creepy The Shining vibe going on. I kicked my brother under the table as he shot me a look that said, “shut up.”

  “What’s going on?” Mom asked. “And don’t even think about saying nothing. We weren’t born yesterday.”

  Preston opened his mouth, but I beat him to it. “Anderson was being a jerk today.” The words spilled out quickly.

  “Oh, honey.” Her voice was soft.

  “And I asked Preston not to say anything because I was embarrassed because I… I still like him.” It was a lie, and the words tasted vile on my tongue. I hoped Preston appreciated the way I was covering for him.

  “Charlie-bear,” my dad said. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. Feelings are complicated, and we can’t always control them.”

  I nodded my head with the appropriate amount of thoughtful consideration.

  “But I hope you realize a guy who cheats on you and then says unkind things to you is not the kind of guy you want to date.” He gave a quick glance to Mom, and I felt like the worst kind of jerk. I hadn’t even considered her ex-husband, Preston’s biological father.

  Preston and I were never given the full scoop of what happened in her first marriage, but we both knew it wasn't good. All of our knowledge was based on some of Preston’s foggy memories and the type of relationship lectures we were given once we both were allowed to date.

  Dad continued. “As much as we were disappointed to hear you keyed Anderson’s car, he is not the kind of guy we want you dating. I’m glad you aren’t together anymore.”

  I continued to nod my head.

  “And, Preston?” He turned to my brother who was looking down at the plate in front of him, and I hoped he wasn’t thinking too hard on his jerk of a sperm-donor father.

  “Yeah?”

  “I know you can’t be everywhere at once, and you can’t prevent these things from happening, but I want you to promise me you’ll look after Charlie. Can you do that, Son?”

  “Yeah,” Preston answered, his gaze still trained on the food in front of him.

  The rest of the meal was more than just a little uncomfortable. My dad tried over and over again to draw conversation from the three of us, but it just wasn’t happening. There were too many painful memories swirling around the table.

  From Preston and Mom’s past with her ex-husband to my relationship with Anderson, none of us felt cheery enough to talk over dinner. When my brother and I were excused from the table, we both practically jumped out of our seats to rush out of the kitchen.

  Preston lingered at the door to his room. “Thanks for covering for me in there,” he said quietly.

  I nodded. “Sorry if I brought up bad memories.”

  He shrugged. “It’s okay. I think your dad is really great for my mom. I’m sure he’ll have her laughing before bedtime.”

  I gave him a tight smile. “I hope so.”

  We stood in awkward silence.

  Preston hitched his thumb at his door. “I think I’m just gonna hide out in my room for the rest of the night. Goodnight, Charlie.”

  “Night, Pres.”

  I walked down the short distance to my room and shut the door. Once I was sitting down on my bed, I checked my phone for missed calls or texts.

  I hadn’t saved Jackson as a contact in my phone, unsure what to put him under. The possibilities were endless. There was Jackson, Brooks, brother’s biggest enemy, arch-nemesis, etc. But I knew the text from an unknown number that lit up my screen was from him.

  5:53 PM

  Jackson: Please don’t be mad.

  Charlie: Did you know Preston was my brother?

  Jackson: I wondered when I saw your last name on the Helping Hands’ roster.

  Charlie: Is that how you got my number? Stealing the roster?? Are you trying to use me to get to him?

  Jackson: What? No! I’ve had a really fun time with you these last two weeks, and I stole your number from my aunt because I wanted to see if you wanted to hang out sometime outside of Helping Hands.

  Charlie: Your aunt?

  Jackson: Lol. Mrs. Gibbs. It’s why I’m there every week. (Looks good on college applications.)

  Charlie: Not because you’re a troublemaker?

  Jackson: Sorry to disappoint you.

  I couldn’t stop the puff of air—that was dangerously close to a laugh—from escaping my lips.

  Charlie: And you don’t mind spending time with one?

  Wait. Crap. Now, I was flirting with him.

  Jackson: Are you saying you want to hang out sometime?

  Charlie: I’m saying I’ll think about it. I don’t like people lying to me.

  Jackson: I know you think I did it on purpose, but I swear it wasn’t like that. I told you my name was Jackson because I didn’t want to be “Brooks” around you. There’s a reputation that comes with that name.

  I thought about what the girl at Helping Hands had said to me as another text popped up on the screen.

  Jackson: I swear I didn’t realize you were Royce’s sister until I looked at the volunteer list tonight. And even then, I wasn’t sure. You don’t look anything like him.

  His argument made sense. Part of me wanted to say yes to spending time with him, but there was another part of my brain telling me this was a bad idea. Preston would never approve.

  I didn’t know what to say, so I chickened out and pulled the sleepy card.

  Charlie: I gotta go to bed. Why don’t you try again tomorrow?

  I added a single winking emoji for good measure and held my breath, anxious to see how he’d respond. Thankfully, he didn’t keep me waiting. His answering text came quickly.

  Jackson: Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say goodnight till it be morrow.

  I recognized those words, but it took me a minute to figure out why. They were from a play we’d studied a couple of years ago.

  For being a star athlete, it looked like Jackson was a bit of a dork. I wasn’t sure that was a bad thing. The smile returned unbidden to my lips.

  Charlie: Just so you know, I’m not drinking poison for you.

  Jackson: Just so you know, Juliet used a dagger.

  I laughed out loud this time.

  Charlie: Yeah, I’m not doing that either, Romeo.

  Jackson: Fiiiine. Talk to you tomorrow, Juliet.

  I waited to see if Jackson would send anything else. When he didn’t, I was disappointed even though I’d told him I was going to bed. At least I now knew what to save him as in my phone. I typed “Romeo” into my contacts, put my phone on its charger, and fell asleep with the sneaking suspicion a certain brown-haired boy would be invading my dreams.

  Chapter Seven

  The rest of the week was...difficult, to say the least.

  Preston got weirdly protective, Anderson kept giving me dirty looks every chance he got, and Daria wouldn’t stop talking about basketball tryouts. The combination of all of that made me feel like I was going crazy!

 
One of the only things making me feel normal was texting with Jackson. It wasn’t all that often—just little things about our day or memes we liked—but it was fun.

  I liked Jackson.

  I just hated that I had to keep him a secret from everyone. Not only was he enemy number one to Preston—which he was—but school pride was a big deal in Marlowe Junction. The rivalry between Rosemark and Pinebrook was universal across all sports, but especially basketball.

  I should have been avoiding him on pure principle.

  So when my alarm went off on Saturday morning, I was nervous, to say the least. I was excited to see him but still wasn’t sure how I was supposed to act around him.

  I quickly put on a dress shirt and khakis, since we were going to the nursing home that morning instead of Saunders Park, and walked down the hallway to eat a quick breakfast. I’d promised my mom I would eat something substantial this time, which meant waking up an extra fifteen minutes early.

  I yawned as I passed Preston’s room, and was surprised to see the door was open. I slowed down and peeked inside, but he wasn’t there. What was my brother up to now?

  “There you are, honey.” My mom smiled at me as I walked into the kitchen. “I was just about to send Preston in to wake you up, so you wouldn’t be late.”

  I looked toward the table and saw Pres shoving a bite of toast into his mouth. His teasing smile matched his mom’s perfectly. “Give Charlie a break. We’ve all seen what she looks like without her beauty sleep. She needs all the extra time she can get.”

  I rolled my eyes and sat down across from him. As soon as my butt hit the chair, a plate full of bacon and eggs magically appeared in front of me. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “You’re welcome, honey.”

  I eyed my brother suspiciously. “Why are you up so early?”