The Bad Baller Collection

by Kiss, Tabatha

  “This is as much of an achievement for me as it is for you,” he says, finally looking away from me. “I came to this school to make a difference and I’m pretty sure I did. Win or lose, the world knows who you are now. And they will not forget.”

  The team bangs and shouts again, drawing a thick grin to his face.

  “But still… I’d rather win, so let’s go out there and be winners, guys.”

  I grab my helmet from my locker and follow the rough scrape of cleats across the floor as the team rushes for the field. Their enthusiasm pulses through me, forcing all doubt and fear aside and replacing it with powerful adrenaline.

  I pass by the coach and he lays a thick hand on my chest to stop me.

  “Hold on…” he says, adding pressure.

  I fall back against the wall, feeling the power in his hand even beneath my pads.

  The rest of the team passes by without notice and race outside onto the field along with Bob.

  Once their shouts echo away, Cary Pierce looks at me and smiles.

  “I’m proud of you, Junior,” he says, keeping his hand on my chest. “You’ve come a long way.”

  I nod, absolutely torn between fear and admiration. “Thank you, Coach.”

  “The night we met, I told you one thing. Do you remember what it was?”

  “You said I had a legendary arm,” I shrug, letting my nerves get the best of my words.

  He doesn’t react. “What else?”

  “I’m sorry, Coach.” I chuckle, looking at the field. “I don’t remember.”

  “I told you to stay away from my daughter,” he says, staring hard at me. It’s odd but this is the first time I’ve noticed that he and Eliza have the same blue eyes. “Do you remember now?”

  His hand slides off my chest, but I still feel the weight of it, along with the crushing heft of the last few months. Every kiss, every minute spent inside of her. All behind Cary Pierce’s back.

  “I can explain—”

  “You’re benched, Junior.”

  My jaw drops. “What?”

  “You heard me,” he says. “You’re not playing tonight. You can sit this one out.”

  I look at the field again, listening to the thunderous cries of the crowd. “You can’t just not let me play — it’s the final game of the season.”

  “I can and I will.”

  “We’ll lose.”

  “Good.” He doesn’t even blink. “Losing is good for you sometimes. Maybe having this championship pulled out from under you will make you think twice about disobeying me again.”

  Every piece of me burns red. “She’s an adult,” I argue. “She can date whoever she wants—”

  “Don’t you dare talk about her.” He steps forward, towering over me like a damn giant. “You’ve done enough scoring this season, Junior. Next season, you can try again.”

  I shake my head. “This is bullshit. You have no right—”

  “Stay the fuck away from her or I’ll make sure you never pick up another ball for the rest of your life.” He narrows his eyes. “Think about that, Junior. Is she really worth throwing your dreams away for?”

  My vision blurs with spots of white. The crowd fades in my ears, leaving nothing but the pleasant memory of Eliza laughing in my bed.

  “Okay, fine,” I say. “I’m dating Eliza but that’s not enough of a reason to let the team waste an entire season.”

  “It’s not?”

  “No.”

  “Then, how about this?” He lowers his voice, growling through a thin line between his teeth. “I’m benching you for letting me down, for letting this team down, but mostly, I’m benching you for knocking up my daughter.”

  My heart sinks. “Wait — what?”

  He points a stiff finger at the field. “Get out there, sit down, and don’t get up again until the clock strikes zero and the crowd boos your name… or you’re finished.”

  Eliza.

  She knew. It was written all over her face, but I couldn’t see it.

  “Now, Junior.”

  I pause, split between her and the team and everything in the middle. My feet carry me toward the field, slowly drifting on air and I don’t even realize it when I sit down on the bench.

  Eliza Pierce is having my baby.

  * * *

  “Junior! Junior! Junior!”

  At the start of the game, their cries were eager and excited. A lot can change in less than two hours.

  Now, they’re angry and confused. They’re calling my name with seething hatred just like Cary Pierce wants them to and I have to sit here and take it or my life as an athlete is over.

  I keep my head down, staring at the grass beneath me to avoid the eyes of the rest of the team.

  It’s not their overwhelming disappointment in me keeping me in place on this bench. It’s not the plummeting scoreboard leaving me numb inside, nor the constant sound of my teammates getting trampled across the gridiron.

  It’s her.

  Eliza knew about this and she didn’t tell me. I like to think I know her pretty well and after ninety minutes of letting this sink in, I’m sure I know why she kept this from me.

  She’s scared. She knows how important this sport is to me and how much opportunity I have now that Cary Pierce is leading me straight to the pros.

  She met my family. She spent time in my childhood home. She knows I’d never get to the pros on my own and her having my baby right now could derail that into oblivion.

  “Her existence made achieving my dreams a whole lot harder.”

  Cary Pierce told me that himself in his office and I’m damn sure the bastard said the same thing to her when he found out. That’s why she broke up with me. It wasn’t because she wanted to. She thought it was the best thing to do for me and my future.

  Well, I disagree.

  I stand up off the bench and drop my helmet onto the grass.

  “Junior.”

  Coach’s bark carries over the rest of the fray. He stares at me with hateful side-eyes, firing a dark warning shot for me to sit back down.

  I ignore him.

  “Junior!”

  Eliza doesn’t know how much she means to me. She doesn’t know how I’d go to hell and back just to see her smile again. She doesn’t know how much I’ve fallen in love with her.

  But she’s about to.

  I turn away from the field, cutting through the haze of cameras and screaming voices, rushing down the ramp toward the stadium exit.

  A hand grips my shoulder. “Junior—”

  I jerk away from his grasp; away from Cary Pierce, my childhood hero.

  “I’m out,” I tell him.

  His hard eyes twinge with amusement. “I never thought you were this stupid, Junior. Don’t give up your dreams over something like this.”

  “Playing ball isn’t my dream, Coach.” I turn away. “She is.”

  He says nothing and I turn my back on him one last time.

  I break into a sprint, peeling off the layers weighing me down as I move. I toss my jersey to the ground, along with my shoulder pads. I won’t be needing them anymore.

  I cut through the quad, weaving through the grass, dodging the confused faces of students hanging out, and plow right through the doors of Talon Hall.

  The lobby is so silent, I hear the gentle echo of voices on the stage before I even reach the auditorium, including hers.

  My Eliza.

  “Whoa — hold on.”

  Some douchebag stops me in front of the auditorium doors. He stares at me with an upturned nose, flashing me what little authority the theatre department has bestowed upon him. “You can’t go in while the show is on.”

  “I need to talk to one of the actors,” I say, nearly choking as I realize how out of breath I am. “It’s important.”

  “It can wait until curtain.”

  I grunt at him with impatience and take off down the hall, following the sound of her voice around the corner until I find the backstage door.

&nb
sp; It’s almost pitch black and I take a quick moment to let my eyes adjust and to catch my breath with my ears tuned to her voice. I smile, recalling the monologue she recited over a dozen times in my bed.

  “Junior?”

  I squint into the dark curtains until I see Grant’s stunned eyes staring back at me. “Grant—” I rush to him and he holds up his hands.

  “What are you doing here?” he whispers. “You can’t be back here.”

  “I need to talk to her.”

  “Okay, cool.” He nods. “She’s a little busy right now.”

  I look over his shoulder and there she is, standing on the other side of the stage. Her hair is curled and dolled up on her head — absolutely nothing like her usual style. A yellow sundress hugs her body and for a second, my mind runs wild.

  Soon, her body will change. Our child will grow and kick and someday, I’ll hold it in my arms.

  I fall in love with it. I fall in love with her all over again.

  “Let me go on.”

  Grant blinks. “Umm… no. This is not a wrestling match. I cannot just tag you in.”

  “This is the ending, right?” I ask. “Page ninety-seven.”

  “… Yeah.”

  “I know the scene, man. Ellie and I ran it a thousand times. Let me do it.”

  He stares at me. “You’re serious.”

  “Completely.”

  “You’re gesturing right now, aren’t you?” he asks. “This is a love gesture.”

  “Are you going to help me get her back or not?”

  Grant smirks and nods, his eyes filling with lovable pride. “Okay.”

  I take a quick step around him, but he pulls me back.

  “Whoa — are you in cleats?”

  I look at my shoes. “Yeah.”

  “You can’t walk onto a stage in cleats, you filthy savage,” he spits. “Take them off.”

  I heave with impatience and kick them at the wall behind us while Grant slides his suit jacket off.

  “Put this on, too,” he says. “You’ll look ridiculous but it’s better than whatever the hell it is you’re wearing now.”

  “Thanks, Grant.” I throw the jacket on. “I owe you one.”

  “You’re lucky I’m a hopeless romantic…” He shakes his head. “Mr. Young will never cast me in anything ever again after this…”

  “I’ll make it worth your while.”

  “Please don’t fuck this up.”

  “I won’t.” I sneak a peek between the curtains at the audience and I twitch with hesitation. “Holy shit — that’s a lot of people out there…”

  Grant slaps my cheek. “Man up, Lover Boy. That’s your cue.” He spins me around and gives me a firm shove through the doorway. “It’s showtime.”

  I stumble out onto the stage and bright, white lights bear down on my face, instantly blinding me with their harsh beams. There’s a hum of confused voices but I can barely see them behind the spots taking hold of my vision.

  Eliza turns to me and she freezes with a mix of anger and surprise invading her face. She studies me from my head to my socks, not once blinking her icy, blue eyes.

  Oh, shit.

  What the hell am I doing?

  Chapter 30

  Eliza

  What the hell is he doing?

  The audience shifts in their seats. I stiffen my neck to avoid breaking the fourth wall. I keep my eyes on Junior, trying not to show shock but holy shit — what the hell is happening right now?

  Grant waves at me from backstage, making a quick gesture with his hands, urging me to continue on like normal but I can’t stop every muscle in my body from shaking.

  A tear slides down my cheek and I wipe it away. “It’s over,” I say to Junior.

  He doesn’t hesitate. “I don’t accept that.”

  My lip quivers. “I don’t care what you accept,” I say, slipping as far into character as possible but part of me still shines through. “It’s over, we’re done. I can’t do this anymore.”

  Junior steps forward with nervous energy, his eyes obviously so tempted to look out at the gawking crowd, but he keeps his focus on me instead. “You’ve sung this song before, Nora. What makes this any different than any other time you’ve run away from us in the last ten years?”

  “It’s…” I inhale deep, forcing the emotions just below the surface. “It’s the first time I’ve thought more with my head and not my heart.” My chest tightens, feeling every word. “This is the right thing for both of us, Danny. I know it.”

  “If this is right…” He pauses. “Then, why does it feel so wrong?”

  “It feels wrong because we don’t know any better. You just need a little time to think about it like I have.”

  “Nora, I don’t give a good goddamn what your head thinks,” he says. “All I care about is what that beautiful heart of yours feels. It feels the same as mine.”

  Junior steps closer and I brace myself for the next line.

  “I love you,” he says. “I’ve always loved you since the day I saw you and I refuse to let you go.”

  “Love isn’t enough,” I say, my heart breaking.

  “I will spend the rest of my life proving that it is.” He cups my face and wipes the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs. “I don’t care what I have to give up. It’s you and me, Nora. It always will be.”

  He kisses me and the music cues on, rising to a crescendo before the lights go black. The curtain falls, drawing a sudden, heavy clamor of applause from the other side.

  I break our kiss and shove him away with all the strength I have.

  “Junior, what the hell are you doing here?!” I squint at him in the dark, making out the sincere shock on his face.

  “Ellie, I—”

  I shove him again, just barely rocking his muscled body backward. “Do you have any idea how stupid that was?! Did you even think about it for more than two seconds?!”

  He grabs my hands before I can pull off another hit. “Ellie, stop! We need to talk.”

  “You bet your ass we do!” I tug my wrists free and point at Grant lingering nearby with the rest of the cast and crew. “And you!”

  “Don’t blame him,” Junior says, blocking my hand. “It was all my idea.”

  “It was your idea to embarrass me? To ruin any chance of me ever standing on that stage again?!”

  “Ms. Pierce!”

  I jolt at Mr. Young’s fierce growl, counting down the seconds until I can say my theatre education is officially over. “Mr. Young, I am so sorry—”

  He stops in front of me, but his eyes instantly lock on Junior. “What happened? Who the hell are you?”

  I swallow the fear down. “Sir, I can explain—”

  “You have quite the stage presence, young man,” he says, glancing Junior up and down. “I can’t say you chose the best of moments to showcase your abilities, but I appreciate tenacity when I see it.”

  Junior blinks. “Thanks?”

  Young turns to me. “You kept it together up there, Eliza. I like an actress that can handle a curveball.”

  I heave a thick sigh. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Let’s make sure tomorrow’s shows go just as smoothly, everybody!” he says, addressing the entire crew. “And can we please lock the back doors next time?”

  Young wanders off and I spin toward the dressing rooms before Junior can grab me again.

  “Ellie—”

  “Go away, Junior,” I snap, holding back every tear I have left in me. “I told you we couldn’t see each other anymore.”

  “Don’t I have a say in that?”

  I push the door closed behind me, but he throws it open to follow me in. “No. I said it and I meant it and no amount of gesturing is going to change my mind.”

  Junior furrows his brow. “Is that a theatre thing? I’ve never heard of it before.”

  “Get out.”

  “No.” He stands up a little taller. “I said that unrealistic, crappy dialogue to you, but I meant every word of
it. I’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. I love you, Ellie.”

  “Junior, you…” I inhale deep, feeling the sharp stab of guilt in my gut. He has no idea what he’s getting into because I was too much of a coward to tell him. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

  “I know,” he whispers.

  I shake my head. “No, Junior. I really have—”

  He takes a long stride toward me and kisses me but that just makes me feel even worse.

  “I know, Ellie.” He grabs my hand and entwines our fingers together with a tight grip.

  I look into his eyes and my breath catches in my throat. “You know?”

  “I know.” He nods. “And I love you.”

  “How do you know?”

  He hesitates. “Your dad told me.”

  My face falls. “Why did he…?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he says, nudging my chin up to make me look at him.

  “Wait—” I look at his outfit. “Why aren’t you at the game?”

  Junior pauses but his touch on me never ceases. “He wanted me to choose so I made a choice.”

  My eyes fill with tears. “Junior, no—”

  “Yes.”

  “You can’t give that up for me.”

  “I already have.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing, Ellie. I’m in. I told you that before and nothing has changed. I’ll never let anyone take you from me.” His hand falls to my belly and his warm touch fires a spark throughout my body. “Or this.”

  I let the tears fall. “Promise?”

  He draws an X over his chest and kisses me again, sealing his promise.

  Chapter 31

  Eliza

  September

  Junior takes my hand and gives it a light, reassuring squeeze.

  I glance at him beside me on the couch through my peripheral vision and he rolls his eyes at me.

  “Don’t think I didn’t see that, young man,” Bonnie says, pointing a finger at him from the loveseat across the room.

  “Mom, we already said no… about thirteen times now,” he says.

  “Not that we don’t appreciate the offer…” I add.