The PreGame Ritual (Lynstone University Book 1)

by Warren, Alexandra

  Even though the words read cold, I had a strong feeling she was smiling at her phone just like I was, waiting for my reply.

  Miles: Doesn’t mean you can’t get to know me. ;)

  Ava: You’re funny. Goodnight, Miles.

  The small compliment was just enough to give me hope. So instead of continuing to nag her, I simply replied: Sweet dreams, ma

  ava.

  Get your shit together, Ava.

  I cursed at myself for missing my third free throw in a row. Even though today was our day off, I found myself at the court working on my weakness; free throws. There was something about all eyes being on me, counting on me for one measly point that could actually be a game-changer, that kept me nervous about shooting them. So nervous that last season I shot a terrible 64% from the line.

  I had to get better.

  I took a deep breath and lined my feet up before taking a few dribbles and lifting the ball in the air. The ball was on my fingertips when I heard from afar, “There’s your problem.”

  Initially the voice startled me until I turned around and saw who it was.

  He was the real problem.

  Miles strolled over to me, looking as if he had just got done getting some work in himself. “You gotta keep your elbow in, ma. The ball follows the line you create. When your elbow is hanging out in no man’s land, you’re bound to fuck up.” Though I wasn’t sure if his advice was right or wrong, the fact that it was unsolicited irritated me. I mean, who did he think he was busting in on my alone time in the gym?

  I put the ball against my hip before I responded, “I know how to shoot free throws; thank you very much.”

  “Yet that was the one thing I never saw in any of your highlight tapes. We all have weaknesses, Ava.”

  “Oh yeah. Well then what’s yours?”

  He gave the cutest little smirk, the first time I noticed his dimples, before he replied, “Pretty baller chicks with bad ass attitudes.”

  Damn, I should’ve kept that one to myself.

  To be so young, Miles spoke with a maturity that even dudes my age couldn’t muster making me wonder if our age difference was something I could actually consider dealing with.

  Wait a minute.

  Why the hell am I even thinking about getting with this teenager?

  “Right. Anyway, if you would stop being a pest, I’d love to get back to my free throws that you think I’m not so good at.” I would’ve used anything as an excuse to escape his aura. But instead of getting away from me, he walked towards the basketball hoop, making himself comfortable on the left side of the basket.

  “I’ll get your rebounds.”

  “I can get my own rebounds, bro.”

  “I know you can. But if I get them for you, you can actually focus on the free throws you need to be swishin’. Let me help you, ma.”

  How could I possibly turn down his sweet little charm?

  And I mean, I was getting a little tired of chasing them down my damn self.

  Maybe putting him to work wasn’t such a bad idea.

  I performed my free throw ritual, lining my feet up and giving the ball a few dribbles. The ball was on my fingertips when Miles yelled, “Pause! Right there.” He jogged over to me, pushing my elbow in, before he jogged back to his spot near the hoop. I gave him a challenging look but shot the free throw from my adjusted position anyway.

  It went in all net.

  “See, I told you, Ava. You aren’t the only one with some skills around here.” He grabbed the ball out of the net and threw it back to me.

  “Whatever dude. Just because you made it on ESPN does not prove anything. I need to see it for myself.” I quickly fired up another free throw, keeping my elbow in like Miles told me to, and the net hardly moved with how perfectly the ball went in.

  “I’ll let you see whatever you want, beautiful.” The courts were already quiet since it was only Miles and I in the facility, but I could’ve sworn in that moment, I could literally hear my own heartbeat. There was no mistaking the hint of flirtation in his statement and when I met his eyes, I immediately recognized that they matched his feelings, even from afar.

  I had diffuse the situation fast, so I went back to the only thing that kept me from taking advantage of his young ass. “I’m just sure the girls your age go nuts over a one-liner like that.”

  His face turned to one of confusion as he asked, “The girls my age? You say that like you and I aren’t the same age.”

  “Umm...we’re not. Like...not even close.” I was sure we weren’t really that far apart in age considering we were both in college but a few grade levels difference was plenty.

  “Well how old are you then?”

  “Twenty-one.”

  It was like a light bulb went off for him as he replied, “No wonder you’re so different.”

  Different?

  I don’t know why his opinion even mattered to me, but I immediately got offended.

  “What the hell is that suppose to mean?”

  He recognized my fire brewing and quickly corrected himself, “Not like that. I mean like your swag, the way you carry yourself; its just different, ma. I don’t know. I can’t explain it.” I really should’ve just let it go, but I couldn’t help wondering what exactly he meant.

  “Try.”

  He let out a little sigh, taking the few steps to be right in front of me before he said, “I guess I just think you’re dope as hell. I mean, for starters you can ball your ass off. You clearly have the respect of your teammates. And I mean, considering you’re here right now on your day off, you must have good work ethic. You’re sexy as fuck with that red hair of yours and you wear the hell out of a basketball uniform. Should I keep going?”

  I kind of wanted to be an asshole and say yeah, but I really couldn’t be mean to him after he laid all of that on the line.

  Especially the sexy-as-fuck part.

  And did he really have to be so close to me?

  I took a few steps away from him, giving the ball a few dribbles from my left hand to my right and back just to distract myself from his eyes. And his mouth. And the cute little way his nose flared up while he was waiting for answer. And the clear-as-day print in his basketball shorts down below.

  Is he upgrading to fine right before my very eyes?

  “Look, that’s all very...flattering to say the least, but do yourself a favor and save that energy for someone more on your level.” I was professing it more to keep myself at bay than him. I had to keep reminding myself that even though I was attracted to him – really, freakishly attracted to him – he wasn’t on my level.

  He seemed amused by my words as if he just knew it was bullshit. I watched as he confidently took the few steps to close the gap I had created between us. I couldn’t believe the way my heart decided to betray me, taking off at a pace so fast that I just knew it was going to burst any minute.

  He looked down on me, his face right above mine as he finally replied, “Ava, I don’t really think anyone can be any more on my level than you. But go ahead and deny yourself if you want to, ma.”

  miles.

  “Love at first sight is just like...some urban legend, right?”

  “I don’t know if its an urban legend, but its definitely some of the bullshittiest bullshit I’ve ever heard. You mean to tell me somebody just looks at someone else and falls in love? Hell nah, bruh. Ain’t possible. Now if we edited that little phrase to something like love at first fuck; to me, that sounds more realistic.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at my boy Cam before I added, “True that. I’ve definitely fallen into something over some good cat a few times.”

  “See what I mean? But to get shot with Cupid’s arrow from the mere sight of somebody? Fuck that. No way, no how.”

  Cam was probably the last person I should’ve been asking but he was the only one around as I got my gear right for our little weekend pick-up game. Clearly thoughts of basketball were secondary as my first train of thought was steadily occ
upied by her. I literally couldn’t stop thinking about her even though she had basically turned down any chance I could have with her. I guess I was holding on to the fact that regardless of what her mouth said, her body language would almost always say something totally different.

  From the way she would lick her lips every time I made a pass at her to the way her breathing seemed to change anytime I got a little closer to her, I knew she was at least attracted to me. So I had a hard time figuring out why she was so caught up on the whole age thing.

  Was a two-year difference really that big of a deal?

  I knew I couldn’t force anything with her and quite frankly, that wasn’t my style. But I also couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that I was gonna miss out on something if I fell back.

  I must’ve thought her up as she strolled in the gym looking her usual delectable self with a t-shirt turned tank that hung low on the sides giving a pretty clear view of the sports bra she was wearing. Her hair was in a low braid, different from the ponytail she usually wore when playing basketball, but still attractive. She had her duffle bag thrown over her shoulder as she approached Cam and I who were sitting on the outer edge of the court.

  “What’s up, guys? Where is everybody?”

  I could hardly look at her when I replied, “They should be here soon. You’re early, ma.”

  “Oh. Right.” She plopped down next to us before digging in her bag to get her shoes. I felt crazy as hell watching her do something as basic as taking her casual shoes off to trade them for her basketball shoes but I wanted to see if she would keep her perfection streak alive by having pretty…

  “Will you quit lookin’ at my damn toes? If you aren’t gonna rub ‘em or suck ‘em then you have no business with ‘em.” Cam started laughing his ass off and I tried to find the humor in it too though I would’ve loved to do both of the things she mentioned.

  “Ain’t nobody worried about your dogs, Ava. I was actually peepin’ that corn on your pinky toe.” She pulled her foot into arms reach, mortified, until she realized I was just fuckin’ with her. She picked up one of the shoes she had already taken off and launched it at me. Luckily, my quick reflexes helped me dodge it.

  That didn’t stop her from spewing, “Fucker.”

  I shrugged as I jokingly added, “On occasion.”

  Once she realized what I was implying, she rolled her eyes and went back to work on her shoes.

  In no time at all, the gym was packed with people; all dudes besides Ava. Apparently, I was the only one that was new to her game because once people figured out who she was, they all wanted her on their team. I had to quickly set the record straight that she was mine...I mean, she was gonna be on my team.

  The first game Ava played a little timid, probably still trying to get her feet wet. But by the third game, she was all in, wiping the floor with any dude that tried to guard her. I was happy that the task of guarding her wasn’t mine because after watching what she did to some pretty decent ballers, I was a little unsure of how well I would match up against her.

  There was a point when one of our games was tied twenty to twenty and the other team had the ball. A guy stole the ball from Ava and was dribbling down the court for what he thought was gonna be an easy lay-up to win the game until Ava showed up out of nowhere and blocked his shot clear into the bleachers. Her face remained unfazed but I couldn’t hold back the pride I felt so I gave her a hard smack on the ass as I yelled, “Good shit, ma!”

  I didn’t even realize what I had really done until she looked at me like I crazy. But then her initial what-the-hell face turned into a pretty little smirk before she put her hand on her ass and rubbed it in a soothing motion.

  “A little less umph next time; okay?”

  ava.

  After a long day on the court, made even longer by the watchful eye of Miles, I wanted nothing more than to kick back and watch TV for the rest of the day. But just as I got settled in for what was bound to turn into a nap since I had somehow made it under the covers, my phone chimed across the room. How I had managed to get all the way settled into bed with it out of arms reach was beyond me. I released a heavy sigh before I got out of my perfectly comfortable spot to get it, already a little mad at whoever made it go off in the first place.

  Miles: Yo Ava, not that I ever doubted your skills after watching you practice but uh… you got real talent, ma.

  Of course its him.

  Ava: Tell me something I don’t know.

  Miles: I bet you don’t know that my hand is busy trying to recall what your ass felt like when I smacked it. ;)

  The little butterflies in my stomach went nuts as I tried to think of something smart to say. Just when I came up with the perfectly clever response, Avery barged in my room.

  “Hey Ava. What are you doing?”

  There was no hiding my irritation as I replied, “What does it look like I’m doing, Avery?”

  “Well sorry to interrupt your…nothingness, but I wanted to ask you something.” I didn’t respond with permission but she continued on anyway, “You’re friends with some of the guys on the basketball team right?” I shook my head yes, unsure of where the conversation was going. “Do you happen to know that Miles kid?”

  Miles?

  What did Avery want with Miles?

  The Miles that was in my inbox?

  I swallowed the little ounce of jealousy that had surfaced from her just mentioning his name to reply, “I know him a little bit; why?”

  “Think you can give me a little shout-out? He’s fine as hell.” I really wasn’t surprised that Avery found him attractive because he was a good lookin’...little boy. But I also wasn’t exactly thrilled about it.

  “Umm...I don’t really know if he’s your type, Avery.” He seemed to have a little more sense than to ever deal with the likes of my half-brained sister.

  “My type? He’s fine. Fine is my type.”

  “Right. I’ll umm...see what I can do.” Avery gave me a thank-you smile before she sauntered out of my room, shutting the door behind her. Something about her interest in him put things back in perspective. I picked my phone back up and erased the message I had originally keyed to replace it with a new one.

  Ava: Well you better try your best to remember because it won’t be happening again.

  ←&→

  Why did I agree to this?

  Better question: What the hell does make-up and neat hair have to do with basketball?

  I never ever played a basketball game with my hair flat ironed down my back, so why were they choosing to go with that look over the more realistic ponytail and headband one?

  Ticket sales.

  I always heard low whispers about how I was the pretty girl of basketball but not until this moment was that made so apparent. I rolled my eyes at the mere thought of it, getting the stank face from the make-up artist that was busy trying to cover up my freckles.

  Oh well.

  “Ava, when you’re ready, you can meet us out on the court.” I shook my head in understanding and once they were done making me all...pretty, I headed to what I usually thought of as my sanctuary.

  As I approached the makeshift set, I could hear the camera already flashing and the photographer fawning over whoever he was shooting.

  “You are a natural, Miles!”

  Ugh, of course it’s him.

  I made the mistake of peeking beyond the lights and saw Miles flashing that brilliant ass smile while he dribbled the basketball from side-to-side. My eyes must’ve been sitting heavy because he turned my way, giving me a little wink, before he focused his attention back on the photographer.

  Jesus Christ.

  “Very, very good, Miles. Now let’s get Ava out here to do her solo shots.”

  I came out from my little hiding spot and was headed to the set when Miles came towards me, stopping right in front of me to sweep my hair behind my ear as he said, “I like your hair, ma.”

  “Thanks,” I nonchalantly replied, as I tried t
o cool the rays that his little touch sent through my body. Just that little graze had me ready to renege on every conclusion I had came to about why we could never be. I proceeded past him as I originally intended to do, grabbing a basketball on my way.

  “Ava dear, I can already tell you’re a little tense. The camera reads it all so take a few deep breaths, get a few dribbles out and then we’ll get started.” My tension had nothing to do with the cameras, the lights, nor the photographer.

  It was all because he was watching.

  Get your shit together, Ava.

  I took the deep breaths as the photographer advised and gave him the nod that I was ready. In no time at all, the cameras were flashing and the photographer was fawning over me the same way he had been fawning over Miles. I finally felt confident in the situation until the photographer said, “Alright Miles, you get back out here so we can do some shots of the two of you together.”

  And of course, this fool Miles had the nerve to reply, “I like the sound of that.” He did a little jog back onto the set, snatching the basketball I was holding from me. “I believe this belongs to me.”

  I snatched it right back but not without a flash from the camera.

  “Perfect! I love it! Let’s keep that going. A little boys vs. girls rivalry.”

  Miles set himself up in a squatted defensive position and naturally, my competitive self squared up right with him, taking a few dribbles. When he swiped at the ball and missed, I couldn’t help but laugh while the camera went crazy capturing the brief moment.

  “Okay, you got me, ma. My turn.” I passed him the ball and he began to dribble. My eyes were locked in on the ball but when I took a swipe, I missed it but didn’t miss what was perfectly positioned behind it.

  Damn, he’s got it like that?

  Miles gave me a little smirk, before he said in a voice only I could hear, “Ava, if you wanted to touch my dick, all you had to do was ask.” I couldn’t help the blush that rushed to my already rosy pink cheeks thanks to the make-up.

  “Shut the hell up, Miles. It was…an accident.”