by E. M. Moore
I bare down on my jaw. I wish he hadn’t done that, but I have more than enough suicides left in me, so I’m not worried. What I am worried about is that Matt and Shawn will hate me now no matter what I do. “Sorry, guys,” I mutter as we all line up.
“Go,” Hayes says, his eyes on me. I can feel the burn of his stare the entire time I run the lines. It makes it hard to concentrate on keeping up with Matt and Shawn. I’m not worried about my endurance. Working out has been a part of my daily activities for so long, but I also want to make sure they know it too. I sprint the very last line and end up coming in second behind Shawn but beating Matt out to the edge.
By the time I’m done, I’m sucking in air and the nicely curled hair I did for the dance is a complete mess. I would kill for a hair tie right now. I’m sure there’s one in my bag, but I’m not about to dig through it without their say so. I know the deal when it comes to shit like this. It’s all about having power. All I have to do is toe the line and don’t do a single thing they don’t tell me to. Even if it seems stupid like not getting a drink when I’m thirsty. When they want us to take a break, they’ll tell us.
“Tired, Matt?” Sloan asks.
I look over and see him bent at the waist, his hands on his knees. They would have to run me ragged before I ever showed I was that tired. Rookie mistake. “Two more lines.”
Matt doesn’t argue. Good thing. He toes the line. I follow. I have to wave Shawn to the line, too. Just before Sloan tells us to go, he gets it. Whatever one of us does, we’re all doing. No matter what. We finish the lines, and I come in second again with Matt trailing a little further back.
“Don’t let Dale beat you,” Ryan shouts. “Again! Two more.”
We all toe the line and run two more lines. I beat Matt again. I can’t let Matt beat me even though Ryan’s going to yell at him again. If I let him beat me, it’ll just make everything doubly worse.
“Again!” Ryan eyes Matt while he’s running. “Do you like getting beaten by a girl? Stop letting her win.”
“I’m not letting her win, Ryan,” he says, breathless.
I feel pretty good about that, but I also know he should’ve kept his mouth shut. “Oh, so your training just sucks? Is that what you’re telling me, Dempsey?”
“I’ll work on it,” he says.
We finish with the lines, and I beat him again. In fact, I almost even beat Shawn out. I run across the edge of the court just a split second behind him.
I can feel all of the Ballers eyes on me more than the other guys. Assessing, picking me apart. Hopefully, maybe, they’re also a little impressed. Not that they’d ever admit it.
When we line up after that, Alec tells us we’re doing foul line shots. The air is getting cooler, and I’m getting hotter. A chill goes through me, but there’s no way I’m saying anything. Ryan, who’s had the ball the entire time, throws it to Shawn. “Don’t stop until you hit ten in a row.”
Because Matt is sucking in air like he might die, I position myself near the rim to get the rebounds. Shawn makes his first two, then misses the third, so he starts all over again. He has to start all over again a few times, even once when he was all the way at nine baskets made. I can see the frustration growing within him, but I give him encouragement every time I throw the ball back at him. He’s at five made when I say, “You got this.” He actually smiles at me then. “Nice and easy. You can do this all day.”
He does. He makes the next five shots with little effort.
“Alright cheerleader,” Alec says, “You’re up next.”
The nickname doesn’t bother me. That’s what being on a team is all about: encouragement. I only have to start over once at four baskets made. I throw it just a tad too hard and it hits the back right where the hoop meets the backboard. The whole thing vibrates with a resounding duuuuuuung. I don’t let it get to my head. If I do, I know I’m screwed. I just accept the rebound from Matt and jump up ten more times, hitting all of them in a row. Shawn moves forward to give me a high five when I finish.
Now, it’s Matt’s turn. He does surprisingly well after the suicides fiasco. I have a sinking suspicion he wouldn’t be doing so well if he’d been made to go first. He misses the first basket, but then makes some adjustments and sinks the next ten. I clap as soon as the tenth swishes through the net. “Nice!”
“That’s it for tonight,” Lake says. When I look up, he’s glaring at me, but I just let it slide right off my shoulders. I know I did well tonight. Probably better than they thought I would do. “We’ll expect you at the homecoming game tomorrow.”
My stomach tightens. Of course they do. After tonight, the last thing I want to do is show my face so soon in front of the whole school after they all just saw a dick drawn on my face, but there’s nothing I can do about it.
“Huddle up,” Ryan says. We all move forward. The Ballers are still in their nice dance outfits, looking sleek. Even though I’m still in my dress, I know I look like a hot mess. He grabs his phone from his pocket and gives it to Matt. “Text your phone from mine, so I can get your number.”
Matt does it first, then Shawn.
“I’ll give it to the rest of the guys.”
Shawn goes to hand Ryan’s phone to me, but Ryan snatches it out of his hand. “I have Dale’s already.” I don’t know why that makes a triumphant smile come to my lips. It makes me feel important even though the only thing he’s ever texted to me is threats.
“Good job tonight, guys,” Alec says as the group disperses. He looks straight at me when I meet his gaze. He’s giving me a once-over I don’t quite understand, but out of all of them, he’s looking at me almost peculiarly, like he hasn’t been able to figure me out yet.
Shawn, Matt, and I walk away and grab our bags by the edge of the court. I look over at Matt while he bends to pick up his stuff. “You know, if you ever want a running buddy, I’m available,” I tell him before pulling my gym bag back over my shoulder. His shoulders stiffen. I want to roll my eyes, but instead, I push forward. “I run most mornings.”
“Thanks,” he says, his voice gruff, then he walks off toward a back street.
“See you tomorrow, Dale,” Shawn says.
I nod, still watching Matt as he walks away, then head back out toward my car. All five Ballers are still on the court. It makes me nervous to see them all together and obviously discussing something. A pinch of unease runs up my spine, but I shake it away and get in my car. At least the first trials event is over with.
When I pull away, one thought gets stuck in my head: I wonder why my dad never said anything to me about trials.
15
The next morning, I wake to several texts. The first is in a group message from the Ballers along with Matt and Shawn. We’re expected to sit with them at the homecoming game. My gut clenches. After the dance, this is the last thing I want to do. No doubt today will be filled with teasing, snide remarks, or even worse. Who knows, maybe they’ll put up the same picture at the game so instead of just being humiliated at the school, I can be humiliated in front of the whole town, too.
The other texts are from Dawn and Chase. I sigh, inputting his name into my phone instead of just the number it’s been coming up as. He’s really sweet, but how will I ever be able to face him again?
Dawn, however, tells me if I don’t text her back, she’s going to kick my ass. I actually think she might try to do this, so I tell her I’m okay. I also tell her I have to go to the football game today. She replies back with smiley faces that she’s going too, obviously going to see David as a Wide Receptor. I laugh just thinking about her. Then, I pull myself out of bed and head to the shower. When I get out, there’s a text from two of the numbers that were in the group text. What time do you want to meet at the parade?
Parade?
10:45?
Sure.
I tap out a response. What are we talking about?
The homecoming parade. We have to drag the float…
Another text comes in from one num
ber, but it’s just to me. Tessa, it’s Matt. You weren’t on the other text the guys sent out. It’s tradition that the recruits pull the basketball float with the Ballers on it every year in the homecoming parade.
I look at the time. What the hell? It’s 10:30 already. I have just enough time to throw clothes on and get to the school. Shit. Where are we meeting?
By the baseball field. That’s where everyone lines up.
Thanks.
I scramble, throwing clothes on that look somewhat good, then run a brush through my hair. It can air dry. I take a hair tie, though, and wrap it around my wrist in case I need it. Then, I quickly put on a little makeup, head to the kitchen to grab a Pop-Tart, and I’m out of there without even seeing my mom. I send her a text about what’s going on today, so she won’t worry about where the hell I’m at, then peel out of the driveway. I hug the curves way too tight on the way down the mountain to Rockport. When I get into town, there’s people already lining the streets for the parade. My dad usually goes to the football game, but as far as I know we never went to the parade unless they did when I was too young to remember. I have to park a block away down a side street and then sprint to the area where everyone is lining up. I see Hayes towering over everybody in the distance and head that way, dodging others in the crowd. By the time I get there, I’m a minute late. No one says anything though because for all they knew, I wasn’t even going to show up. When Ryan sees me, he just turns the other way. Asshole. They deliberately tried to fuck me with this recruit thing.
“Fuck me,” I say when it’s just me, Matt, and Shawn. Shawn just raises his eyebrows. “Not like that, obviously.” I run my hands through my hair, trying to get it to dry a little more. “What exactly do we have to do? Drag the float?”
Shawn points to the area just ahead of the flatbed on wheels. All the Ballers’ girls are putting last minute touches on the float, but when I look past them, I see three ropes jutting out from underneath the flatbed trailer. Yeah, this is safe.
Every other float is being towed by a vehicle or the vehicle is their “float.” The basketball team’s is the only one that isn’t. “How do we want to do this?” I ask. I size each one of them up. I’m the smallest, but that doesn’t mean I’m the weakest.
Shawn glances us over. “I’m thinking Dale in the middle with Dempsey and I on either side.”
I shrug. “Fine by me.”
Someone with a bullhorn starts telling us to get ready. The voice sounds like Vice Principal Holden, which makes me cringe. No wonder things like this are allowed to happen on his watch. I’m pretty sure he’s in the Ballers back pocket. A few seconds after that, fireworks go off near the front of the line. The people lining the streets cheer. Matt, Shawn, and I walk to the ropes as the Ballers hop onto the float and the girls get down. I wrap the end of the rope around my midsection and tie it off. I have more strength this way than if I were to try to tug it with my arms. Matt and Shawn follow suit. It’s almost our time to start moving when Sloan yells down, “What do you think, Recruits? Time to start pulling us.”
I look over my shoulder and see all five of them looking down at us. They look like royalty staring down at their peasants. The only one not smirking is Hayes and that’s just because he looks too bored to care. Which could be worse? Or better? I’m not quite sure. Each one of them is sitting on metal chairs decorated with orange-brown balls of tissue paper that’s supposed to look like basketballs. Maybe they do, but they also look like giant balls of shit. I do, however, like the sign they use on the sides of the float that says RHS State Champions with all the years they earned that honor underneath. Butterflies spur inside me. I only hope I can help them make the same distinction this year.
“You’re up Ballers,” Miss Lyons says. She waves us forward.
Matt, Dave, and I start walking. The float pulls us back automatically. The hardest part will be getting this thing going, but once we do, we shouldn’t have any problem keeping it going. At least, I hope so. Who knows what the Ballers will do if we can’t carry them around Rockport like pack mules.
“On three,” Shawn says. “One, two,—”
We all push forward at once. The float creeps ahead. We push harder and harder until we’re finally moving.
“Great job, Recruits,” Ryan says. I sneak a peek behind me because I just can’t help myself. The ridiculous jealous side of me likes seeing them without girls hanging all over them or perched in their laps. He’s waving to the crowd with that delicious smile of his. His true smile does something to me. It makes my heart jittery and my throat tight. His eyes slice toward me. “Keep looking straight ahead. You’re not Ballers yet.”
“If they ever will be,” Lake says just loud enough for us to hear. “I hear Dale sucks.”
I turn back around, my face heating. I hear chuckles behind me, so I let the burning anger fuel pulling on this damn rope. If they think they’re going to break me, they’re wrong. If they think they’re going to cheat me out of this, they’re wrong.
By the time we get to the end of the three blocks and are going to make the right toward Main Street, my calves are killing me. The suicides last night coupled with towing this flatbed today are giving me a really great workout. Instead of thinking of this as having to pull these assholes around for their own amusement, I start thinking about using this opportunity as my workout today. I lean into the rope and the float picks up speed.
“Damn, Dale,” Matt says with a grunt. “Where do you get all your fucking energy? Those lines killed me last night.”
“Regular training sessions with my dad since I could walk,” I deadpan. I don’t want to bring up my dad, but I don’t want to lie either. A part of me also wants them to know that I mean business. I’ve been working on this since I was a little girl. I didn’t just wake up one morning and think, I’ll transfer to Rockport to try out for the basketball team. That’ll be fun.
“That’ll do it,” Shawn says. “Your dad’s a beast.”
Matt sucks in a breath between his teeth. I can tell he’s struggling. “You going to be alright?”
He nods, his face beet red.
“I told you to keep up on your conditioning,” Shawn says, a hint of teasing in his voice.
“You really want to do this right now?” Matt asks. His voice is too strained to be pissy, but I’m sure that’s how he imagined it would come out.
We make the turn down Main Street. Three blocks ahead is the school, then the parking lot, then we’re done. “We’re almost there,” I say, eyeing the turn into the lot.
I’m breathless myself, and my calves are really starting to feel it, but I don’t complain. Matt needs us to hype him up right now, not commiserate with him.
“I’ll buy you a candy bar at concessions when we’re done,” Shawn offers. He peeks over at Matt to assess him, but just turns straight forward again, his lips pulling back in a grimace as we trudge along.
“Fuck you,” Matt says, but he laughs, too.
“Same,” I tell him. “I’m good for a candy bar.”
This makes Matt laugh even harder. When I look over at him, he smiles at me. I can’t help but think that at least the guys I’m pulling the Ballers with don’t hate me. I’m sure they’re not thrilled I encroached on their opportunity, but they’re taking it in stride. I don’t dare look behind me again, but I wonder if the Ballers are watching Matt struggle. Hopefully they’re too busy waving at their adoring fans. Up ahead, there’s a sign that says, “I love you, Sloan!” with a heart for the ‘o’ in his name. I almost roll my eyes until I see a grandma holding up a sign that says, “Marry me, Ryan?” How can you get mad at that? That’s just adorable.
Watching the little kids wave at them is the best. They’re all so excited to see them. By the way they’re saying hi and greeting them back, I know they’re having a ball up there, too. They live for this notoriety.
Finally, we make the turn into the school. “We’re so there,” I say to Matt. He’s cringing on every step now. I’d sw
itch places with him if I thought the Ballers wouldn’t say anything, but they would. Up ahead, the float in front of us is stopping. We only have about fifty more yards. Stopping is difficult too because once we slow down, it takes a hell of a lot more strength to get it going again. After a few false stops and starts, we get the flatbed in place directly behind the float in front of us. All three of us drop our ropes and step out of them.
The Ballers jump off the float like nothing, landing gracefully. A few of their girlfriends swarm them. Ryan puts his hand around Rhonda’s shoulders while Sloan accepts a kiss from some dark-haired girl. The kiss is so intense it makes my face heat. He pulls her hips to his, and I have to look away or risk being called a creeper. While I’m staring at the ground, footsteps near us. “Great job,” Sloan says. I chance a glance up and see Ryan walking away, not so much as a thank you, or hell, even direction as to what we’re to do next.
It’s Alec that stays close to us while the rest of them walk away. Hayes, looking as calm as ever. Lake is no doubt high off of all the attention. “That was good, Recruits,” Alec says. “I’m glad you helped Dale out to make sure she showed. That’s exactly what we wanted to see.”
I almost roll my eyes. That wasn’t why they left me off the text. They were hoping I just didn’t show up. Though, from their point of view, leaving me off the text was a win-win situation. Either I didn’t show up and got busted for it, or the guys wouldn’t tell me and maybe they got some sort of backlash. The last thing they probably thought would happen was to have me show up like I knew about it the whole time.
Matt tries to put weight on his right calf, but he hisses, then sits down right where we’re at on the side of the parking lot. I go right to him. “Cramp,” he says, face contorted in pain.
