Drew: Book One of the Perfectly Independent Series

by Amanda Shelley

  DeShawn cocks an eyebrow and waits patiently. We’ve been friends since I arrived at CRU. Between him and Grey Gibbons, they probably know me best. Grey chooses this time to take a seat on the other side of me as I tie my shoes on the bench near my locker.

  “Dude, I saw you myself. There’s no point in denying it. You might as well be straight with us.” He looks to DeShawn and back to me before asking, “So, who is she?”

  I go with the truth as I have nothing to hide. “It was Abby, my lab partner’s birthday. I inadvertently asked her to finish a project last night and didn’t know it was her birthday until she arrived at my place. So… I rectified it.”

  “Dude.” Grey’s eyes go so wide, it’s almost comical. “That’s what you’re calling it these days?” Then he turns to DeShawn. “Where can I get a lab partner like that? She was h—o—t—hot! I’m telling you, man. Jacobs was shaking it, like it was 1999. I never thought I’d see the day.” He shakes his head like he still can’t believe the thought I’d have a life. What a dick. Sure, I typically don’t go out during the season, but it’s not like I’ve never been out with the guys. He fucking knows this, too.

  “Andrew Jacobs,” DeShawn mocks in a voice that could pass as his mother’s. “Is that the type of studying you’re into these days? I thought you only knew about chemistry in books… maybe you have game after all.”

  “Seriously.” I could cut Grey in half with the daggers I’m sending his way. “Show some respect. I simply made sure Abby was safe for her twenty-one-run. Don’t make it any bigger than it is. I was their DD and wasn’t out too late either, so you can shut your traps about spreading rumors,” I warn.

  Knowing these guys are among my best friends, I don’t have to worry too much. The fact that Grey was out after curfew is something I’m about to ask about, but Coach bellows, “Two minutes,” and we quickly get our gear on and rush out to the court without discussing it further. I know this won’t be the end of their inquisition, but for now, it’s time to focus on practice. As I walk to the court, I can’t help but wonder, what is it about Abby that I can’t seem to walk away from?

  7

  Abby

  Drew wasn’t kidding when he said he was determined to be a good lab partner. We’ve met up a few times and even video chatted while he was in a hotel room outside of Eugene, just to get our assignment completed in a joint effort. He’s adamant about doing his fair share and if it weren’t so damn annoying, it’d almost be admirable.

  Two weeks later, as I drag myself into my apartment one evening after working all afternoon at the library, Sydney ambushes me as soon as I enter the door.

  “Good, you’re home!” She’s decked out in CRU gear, and even has our school’s logo temporarily tattooed to her cheek.

  “What’s going on?” I ask. Crap, have I missed something? Chloe’s nowhere to be seen, but the crazed look in Sydney’s eyes has me on alert.

  “Chloe’s working late, and you’re going to the game with me. We have thirty minutes to tip-off, and I didn’t think you’d get here on time.” Sydney takes my hand and drags me into her bedroom. “Here. You can wear this.” She throws me a black basketball jersey with our school logo and the number twenty-four in red across the back. “I have an extra tattoo in my bathroom for your face and some pom-poms you can use.”

  I stare at her as if I’ve entered an alternate reality. Since when do I attend basketball games, dressed as a crazed fan, eager to cheer them on? Sure, I’ve gone to a few games in the past, but I’m a come as you are type of fan. No need to get all riled up. “Uh, when did I say I was going to the game?”

  As far as I’m concerned, I have a date with my textbook and loads of reading to endure to be ready for class tomorrow. Basketball is the furthest thing from my mind. Syd should know this.

  “Come on!” she begs. “It’s one of the biggest games of the season. We’re playing Washington, and we can’t miss this. Chloe had to pull a double shift, and I don’t want to go alone,” Sydney practically pleads at the end and then goes for my Achilles heel. “Abs… If you go, I’ll bake cinnamon rolls tomorrow. I’ll even make a special pan, just for you…” She bats her eyes, then adds her ace in the hole. “With as much glaze as you want.” She waggles an eyebrow in my direction as she eagerly awaits my response.

  Shit, she knows I have an affection for her freaking cinnamon rolls. For some reason, I can never make the glaze as perfect as her. It’s almost like she’s beaten down some poor person at Cinnabon for their special ingredients. Unfortunately, that means I typically eat most of the pan when I can get away with it, but let’s be real, her pastries are pure perfection and worth every ounce of extra padding they’ve added to me over the years.

  I sigh heavily as I know there’s only one answer I’ll give her. “Just give me a minute, and I’ll be ready.”

  Syd squeals loud enough for the neighbors down the street to hear and throws her arms around me. “You’re the best, Abs. Drew’s been on fire these past few weeks, and I’m sure he’ll appreciate you being there to cheer him on.”

  “Uh… I hate to point it out to you, Syd, but Drew’s just my lab partner. Besides, there’s no way he’ll know I’m there with an arena full of fans.”

  “Oh, Abby.” Sydney shakes her head. “Trust me. He’ll know you’re there.”

  “I highly doubt it,” I mumble as I switch out my shirt for the jersey and take the two minutes necessary to run a brush through my hair before declaring I’m ready to leave.

  When we get to the arena, it’s packed, and the air buzzes with anticipation for the big game. We each show our sports pass and make our way to find a seat among the cheering crowd. Evidently, we haven’t missed tip-off because the opposing team’s being announced as we walk down the stairs to find our seats. Instead of heading to the student section, as I presumed we’d sit, Sydney takes us closer to the court and shows her phone to the attendant. Before I know it, we’re ushered to seats only three rows up from the center of the court.

  “Uh… since when do we no longer sit in the student section?” I ask with the realization that she must’ve done something extra to get these seats.

  “Since my boss offered me his season tickets for tonight when he found out I was going. He’s out of town and wasn’t using them. There’s no way I’d pass up a chance to get this close to the action, Abs. I may be a work-a-holic, but even my boss knows I’m a huge basketball fan. Of course, I jumped at the chance.” Sydney’s eyes dance in anticipation as she scopes out the players entering the court. Her love of the game is evident in her appraisal of the players. Knowing Sydney, she’s likely mentally calculating their stats as they’re introduced. She has such a knack at remembering the most trivial things sports related.

  We take our seats as the stadium lights dim. The spotlight goes wild, and music blasts to welcome CRU’s team to the arena. Fanatic fans scream as each player’s introduced and their position announced. I’m up on my feet, cheering right along with the crowd, when Drew’s introduced at the end of the lineup. The announcer draws out his name as if Drew Jacobs is the most exciting person in the room. Apparently, Drew’s beaten many school records, and the announcer feels the need to share it with the room. As my eyes dart to Drew, he appears humble in his reaction. His face has a plastered-on smile but when the accolades are announced, his eyes dart to the floor, almost in disbelief. Interesting. He’s so not the jock I thought I met on our first day of classes. There’s much more to Drew Jacobs than most know. I’m sure.

  Once the National Anthem is sung, the ball is brought out to center court to be tipped. Drew’s not in the center of the action for this moment, but once CRU wins the ball, it’s quickly taken by our point guard and dribbled hard for our net. At the last moment, he passes the ball to Drew for an assist, and SWISH! It’s nothing but net. Drew has a bounce in his step as he celebrates the score but is quickly back on defense as a member of Washington’s team returns the ball to their side of the court.

  I may no
t come to many games, but I’ve spent plenty of time on a basketball court watching my older brother Travis play as we grew up. As I watch the ball zoom down the court and baskets be made by both teams, I cheer right along with Sydney and the rest of the crowd.

  My heart beats quicker each time CRU takes possession of the ball. When it’s passed to Drew, it nearly rockets out of my chest. A sense of pride soars through me as I watch Drew handle the basketball. As if the ball’s an extension of himself, he maneuvers it through the defense with ease and scores nearly every time he touches the ball. His muscles flex, and his face fills with such intensity, it’s hard not to stare at him in awe. Drew Jacobs is a God on the court. The other players pale in comparison. Though the other team keeps pace with us as far as scoring is concerned, no one on the court handles the ball with such precision as Drew. Other players are rotated in and out of the game as the coach sees fit, but Drew’s like a workhorse, unyielding until he finishes his task.

  Just as the buzzer signals for halftime, Drew’s gaze locks onto mine. An involuntary shudder rolls through my body as he looks me over from head to toe. It’s as if there’s an electric current directly connected to my spinal cord, and I feel every spot his eyes roam as they take me in, cheering him on from the stands. What the hell is he doing to me? I’ve never had such an intense reaction to anyone like this.

  Drew’s smile spreads wide when his eyes return to mine. He tips his head to the side and nods once with a quick wink before DeShawn Miller claps him on the back, and he’s ushered to the locker room. It happens so fast, I thought I’d imagined it. But when Sydney giggles and brushes her shoulder to mine, I’m not so sure I did.

  “What the hell is that?” she teases as she continues watching Drew run off court.

  “What do you mean?” I ask in confusion while keeping my eyes on Drew until he and the rest of the team are no longer visible, then turn to face her.

  “Uh…” Sydney’s green eyes are wide, and her strawberry-blond ponytail swishes behind her as she whips her head in my direction. “The guy clearly winked at you…” she accuses.

  “Are you sure? Sweat was rolling off his forehead. He could’ve had something in his eye…”

  “Abby,” she chides, holding my gaze.

  “I’m sure you’re mistaken,” I casually dismiss. “Why would he wink at me? That makes no sense.”

  “Abby, you have to be kidding me. Obviously, Drew was focused on you. His entire face lit up when he found you. There’s no sense in arguing with me.” Syd eyes me pointedly as she brushes a strand of stray hair behind her ear.

  “What do you want me to say?” I sound defensive, even to me. I don’t know why he looked at me that way. He could’ve been looking at the person behind me, for all I know. Why on earth did she have to notice?

  “I just want you to be honest. I know he’s your lab partner. But maybe there’s something more.”

  “Syd,” I groan in frustration. “You know it’s not like that.”

  “But it could be like that…” she sing-songs playfully.

  I scoff. “You’re one to talk. You won’t give anyone the time of day.” Maybe if I turn the table on her, she’ll back off and leave me alone. “When was the last time you went out on a date?”

  Sydney rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “I’ve probably been out on a date more recently than you. I date. I’m just picky and if they’re not worth mentioning, I haven’t.”

  I stare at her in disbelief. “Are you telling me you’ve actually been on a date and not told me about it?”

  “Of course I have.” She lifts her chin indignantly. “For your information, I went on one last week.” She almost sounds convincing. If it weren’t for the involuntary shiver of her entire body at the end, I’d almost believe her.

  “What aren’t you telling me, Syd?” I probe, knowing there must be more. Her lips purse, and her eyebrows squint together. Irritation fills her features, and her sudden grimace tells me she’d rather keep it to herself. Not wanting to give up, I simply stare.

  She shrugs. “It was just a typical date. He seemed different, but…” she sighs heavily. “He was just like everyone else I’ve been out with lately. At the end of the night, he leaned in to kiss me… his intent, of things being more obvious… and I just wasn’t feeling it. No spark. No chemistry, ya know?”

  “Boy, I can relate.” It’s been forever since someone lit me up from the inside out. After the last few flops, I decided it wasn’t worth the effort. Besides, now that I only have a few classes left to go until I find out if I’ve been accepted to med school, my priorities need to be elsewhere.

  Syd shakes her head in commiseration. “I’m not looking for a Mr. Forever or anything…” She trails off then bursts out giggling. “Hell, I’d settle for a Mr. Right Now… if you know what I mean… But there has to at least be a spark.” She waggles her eyebrow seductively, and I burst into laughter.

  “Syd…” I chastise her bluntness and look around to see if anyone’s paying us attention.

  “What?” She laughs off my reaction. “I have needs, too. Maybe you’ve been out of the game so long you’ve forgotten yours, but I certainly haven’t forgotten mine.”

  “Okay, whatever you say.” I laugh it off. Knowing Sydney as I do, I know most of this is all bravado. She’s had some short-term relationships and when they’re no longer mutually beneficial, she’s moved on. But she’s not into casual flings. She gets irritated when guys assume that just because she bartends, she’ll go home with them after last call. Hence, the reason she’s picky. Some might even say a bit jaded because she hardly lets her heart get attached. Hell, I don’t even blame her. If I had guys treat me the way she’s been treated, I’d be skeptical, too.

  Thankfully, I don’t have to say more to Sydney. The players come back onto the court to warm up before the second half of the game. Like a moth to a flame, my eyes follow Drew around the court as if they have a mind of their own. If Sydney notices, she doesn’t say anything.

  Drew’s focus is entirely on the game for the second half. He’s unstoppable when it comes to offense. I can probably count on one hand the amount of shots he hasn’t made when he’s gone to the basket. As the score volleys for who takes the lead, I’m on pins and needles. With each shot made, the other team returns to their net and scores. My heart races with anticipation as I watch each player leave their heart out on the court.

  When there’s only twenty seconds left in the game, CRU’s down by two and Washington has the ball. Washington makes a fast break for the basket, but CRU blocks it. Relief floods me as our point guard quickly takes control of the ball. He dribbles hard for the basket and at the last second, passes it off to Drew. My heart freezes when I realize Drew doesn’t have the shot once the ball’s in his hands. With cat-like reflexes, Drew arcs the ball wide across the court into the capable hands of DeShawn, who’s wide open behind the three-point line. With three seconds left to go on the clock and the crowd counting down, DeShawn dribbles once, squares his shoulders, and jumps into the air, releasing the ball at his full height.

  I swear the entire arena sucks in a deep breath as they anxiously await the result. It’s as if the ball’s in slow motion, as it arcs slowly through the air. I’m on my tippy toes wishing it to make it into the basket.

  It hits the rim, at the backboard.

  It bounces once into the air, landing on the rim again.

  Then SWISH, it falls into the basket, and the arena goes wild as the sound of the buzzer goes off.

  “We did it!” Sydney screams as she jumps up and down with joy. “We beat Washington.” She rushes in to squeeze me tight in a hug. “Holy shit. I didn’t think DeShawn would pull that off. But he did it!”

  “It was freaking amazing!” I holler in agreement to be heard over the crowd. We pull apart and high-five the fans erupting in celebration around us. The enthusiasm in the crowd is almost palpable. My skin tingles with excitement, and I can’t help but watch Drew as he celebrates CRU’s wi
n with his teammates.

  After rushing over to greet DeShawn with a chest bump, Drew and DeShawn hug each other intensely. As if they’d practiced that pass countless times, it was orchestrated to perfection. Their other teammates join in the celebration before their coach calls them over for a team celebration.

  Eventually, CRU calms down, and each team shakes each other’s hand as a show of respect to one another. I’m surprised how many of them seem to know one another off the court because they stop to say something and seem genuine in their greetings. By the time they’ve finished, the crowd around us disperses.

  When Sydney suggests we get going, I can’t help but give one last glance to Drew. As if he senses me watching, his eyes dart to mine, and a shit-eating grin explodes across his face. I can’t help but laugh in return. I’m so friggin’ happy for him. I know this was a huge game, and he was pivotal in making this a win for CRU. Drew holds my gaze for a long moment then nods once in my direction as if to say, “See you tomorrow.” Though I know I’m probably making that part up in my mind. He’s excited and just pulled off a big win.

  Sydney pulls on my arm, and I drop my focus from Drew. As we get to the top of the stairs, I glance back once more. He’s still looking in my direction. Maybe I’m not so off after all.

  8

  Drew

  I breeze through my classes the next morning after our big win. By pulling off that pass at the last minute, I helped lead CRU to victory. Not only did it allow for major bragging rights against our biggest rival in the division, but when I looked up, Abby and Sydney were in the stands watching it all happen. I’m not sure why it mattered so much. Maybe it’s because I haven’t had anyone close in the stands to watch me in a while, but for some reason, just knowing Abby was there, made me want to show her just what I could do.

  As I make my way from class to class, people stop and congratulate me. I’m happy to have fans, but it takes longer to go anywhere when this happens. Typically, I avoid crowds but for some reason, I can’t get away from them today. As the season progresses, I’m sure it’ll just get worse if our winning streak continues. I wouldn’t trade the win for the world, but it gets old being bombarded by fans and their constant interruption.