Mom laughs. “Reality TV? Justin!? No, no, no. He’s too real to do reality TV. His dad isn’t forcing him, is he?”
“No. Absolutely not.”
Mom nods. “Okay, well, why don’t we have Justin’s family over for dinner? A way for us all to get to know one another.”
I squirm in my seat. Heck, I don’t even know them. There’s no way I’m ready to introduce his parents to my own.
“Okay, I get it. Take a month. Get to know them before we all meet, all right?”
“Sounds good.”
She bends over, readjusting the mums I’d planted so they look right. I bite my tongue as she messes with my work. It’s hard not to be insulted when I’m helping her, but really, it’s her exhibit. This is not her over-correcting me, or picking me apart to shape perfection. No, it’s business. I’ll survive the sting.
“So, have you thought about basketball?”
I nod, surprised that the question doesn’t bother me. “I’m thinking about it.”
“When are tryouts?”
“Next week.”
“Well, whatever you decide, I support you. Just make this decision based off of you, no one else.” She nods to the lined-up plants and empty pots. “Okay, let’s get these done. I’m hoping to snag a shower before I have to leave.”
I thrust my hands back in the dirt to plant while Mom arranges some sort of straw hay garland, but it’s basketball that’s bouncing around in my head. What would playing mean for me this year? I’d have to deal with Coach T, that horrible man who knowingly let the seniors keep bullying me as long as we won. I’d be putting myself out there to scouts and the media again. They didn’t ignore my first season, and they definitely wouldn’t ignore my return. The pressure would be high.
But, in the evening when I shoot hoops, I have this sense of freedom and invincibility; there’s no other feeling like it in my life.
Then there’s the Justin factor. Being on the basketball team would mean less time with him. Practices after school, games in the evenings, tournaments on the weekends. It’d basically demolish our time together, which would totally suck.
My stomach nags at me. It’s not like that time with Justin will be there anyway. He’s captain of the boys’ varsity team. He’ll be at practice and games just as often as me. If I don’t play, at least I’d be around when he’s available.
But that reasoning makes me nauseous. I pour the last scoop of soil into the last teal pot. No. I can’t base my choice on that. If I chose not to play for that reason, I’d only be gaining an extra hour with Justin a week, sneaking it in before his practice. Saying no to basketball would be a sacrifice that defines me through him. Waiting on him. My heart deflates with the thought. Justin’s a part of me. It scares me how much my heart is entwined with his. But I can’t be that girl waiting all the time. Especially when Justin isn’t waiting for me. It’s not like he mentioned quitting ball so we could go on more dates or anything like that.
God, if he did, I’d smack him. That’d be ridiculous.
No, my decision to play basketball or not can’t rest on my time spent with Justin.
It has to be about me and the ball.
My heart thumps against my ribcage and I know. With that feeling, my choice is made. I pull out my phone and call him. Adrenaline floods my system; suddenly I’m ready to run five miles.
“Hey, Lady,” he greets me and my stomach flutters. God, I love his smooth, husky voice.
“Hey, what are you up to?”
“Studying. You?”
“Well, I was wondering if you could call Alex and head over?”
“Why?”
“It’s time to show Coach T that I don’t give up.”
Chapter Four
Justin
“Gawd, why are you so nervous? You know she’ll make it.” Lucy’s friend Laura tosses me the gym towel from my bag. I’m still sweating, despite the fact guys’ tryouts ended an hour ago. “What’s with the pacing? I’ve never seen you like this before. Wait, you’re not worried about your own spot, are you?”
There’s no need to be conceited, so I pretend she didn’t ask. She knows I owned tryouts. “It’s not that. It’s just,” I gaze back at the East Gym’s door, knowing Lucy’s in there with Coach T, a total ass, waiting to find out if he’ll give her a second chance. Honestly, he should be the one begging her to return. Lucy told me how he looked the other way her freshman year, but only after I swore not to tell my coach. Every time I see his fat face, it takes all my restraint to not throw a punch.
Thankfully, I know Lucy has the balls to shove her skills in his face. But, does she have the strength? Just talking about the man made her hands shake. And the memories that gym must hold? Crap. She’s in there dealing with all that while I’m stuck out here, just waiting.
“She’ll be fine, Justin. Really. Sit down.” She yanks my arm, dragging me over to the lunch table to rejoin Luke, Alex, and Jake. Laura wraps her arms around Luke, giving him a hug while we wait for the boys’ list to be posted. Luke pats her arm. He didn’t have the greatest tryout—chickened on the chance for an easy drive—but he made every outside shot. With that in his pocket, plus his attitude and grades, he’s golden.
“Don’t worry man, you’re good.”
“Yeah, you’re good, Luke,” Alex repeats. He’s pacing back and forth. The kid cannot keep still when he’s nervous. Then again, I’m already to the other end of the table, I guess neither can I. I haven’t been this nervous in a long time.
Alex meets me at the end of the table. “How’d I do?” he says under his breath. “I mean, really, Justin. Do I have hope here?”
He beams up at me and I know what he sees. I’m totally his older brother, way more than a cousin. I’m his Jackson. I imagine what Jackson would have said to me and say just that. “You killed it.” I clap him on the shoulder, watching the relief flood his face.
Thankfully, it wasn’t a lie. Alex is actually better at ball than I was at his age. Way better. Hell, I bet they will start him on junior varsity as a freshman. At that point, I’d only made the sophomore team. But there’s no way I’m telling him that. He’s got to learn how the process feels.
“Thanks.” Alex clasps my hand, pulling me in for a quick man-hug. Jake’s sitting down, head between his palms. He never does well under pressure and this tryout was no exception. I made sure to show the coaches my belief in Jake’s potential. When I fed him, he bit and the ball would swish. But anyone else, even Alex, would leave him throwing up bricks. Too many bricks.
I bite my tongue. Dear God, let him at least make the freshman team. He and Alex are best friends. The wedge that’d create would royally suck. Jake knows Alex is better, that doesn’t seem to matter to him. But to not be part of the team? That’d hurt a ton.
A banging on the lockers bordering the cafeteria is the signal our roster is up. Alex’s face drains and Jake doesn’t move. Luke sighs, pulling himself off the bench and walking toward the South Gym’s door, where four pieces of paper hang.
A huddle forms in front of him; he’s forced to wait. He’s not super patient though, straining on his tiptoes for a view.
I clasp Alex on the shoulder. “Ready to go look?”
“No way, I can’t. Can you check for me?”
“Do you really think that’s going to work on me?” I yank him up by the back of his t-shirt. “Be a man, go see.”
Alex huffs, dragging himself toward the huddled group of guys. Jake still hasn’t lifted his head. “You too, Jake. Up you go.”
“I sucked. Don’t make me look.”
“It’s part of the deal, dude. Get up. I’ve got to look too.” He reluctantly stands, already looking defeated. I probably should be nice and do it for him. But sitting down and taking the news from me, whether good or bad, is just going to make him feel like a wimp. He’s got to own it and do it himself.
I walk next to him though. He doesn’t have to do it alone.
Luke pumps his fist in the air. Solid.
I’ve got my forward.
Alex stands a few guys ahead of us in line, not even attempting to peek. Wow. Never knew he had such restraint. A few moments pass and it’s finally his turn. He glances up, reading the freshman list and I see his shoulders slump. Come on, don’t be an idiot. Read the other lists too. Finally, his shoulders straighten and that dorky grin plasters his face. Good.
I push Jake in front of me; together we scan the list. There, smack in the middle, he lands the freshman team. He breathes a huge sigh of relief as I check out who the coach took this year. Alex’s name is at the bottom of JV. Sweet! I glance at the varsity list, my name listed on top with a star. Captain again, like last year.
I feign excitement because the freshmen are watching. Really, all I care about is what’s going on with Lucy on the other side of that wall. Then I hear it, the high-pitched squeals as the East Gym’s door opens. Girls flood out, some smiling and others with swollen, red eyes. I’ve never NOT made the team. That’s seriously got to suck.
I search for Lucy, catching sight of her hanging back in the gym, having a word with the evil coach. He better not be lecturing her or giving her any crap. She nods sternly before exiting.
I meet her at the door. “How’d it go?”
“Eh,” she says.
“What? He cut you!”
“Calm down. I’m starting point guard. He just, um, lectured me about how he invested his time into me my freshman year and how he didn’t appreciate it when I ‘ditched’ the team.”
“He seriously said that?” Oh my God. I’m telling our coach. That guy needs to be out of here, forever.
“Don’t worry. I knew it was coming. It’s not like I hadn’t practiced what I’d say to him.” She winks at me.
“Whoa. Really?” I stand back, amazed at the force that stands before me. Just five months ago, she couldn’t stand up for herself. Now? She’s stone.
“Yup.”
“So you guys are good?”
“Ha, no way. Not good. But we’re in agreement. If I ever see him look the other way while a teammate trashes someone, I’m out. If he actually coaches and cares, I’m in. He wasn’t pleased that I worded it like that,” she shrugs, “but he agreed. He knows he’d be fired if I ever shared the crap he knew about but didn’t act on.”
“So.” I wrap my arms around her waist. “You’re doing it? You’re in?”
“Yes. Absolutely.” She nods to the girls waiting at the table on the other side of the gym. “I’ve got to go actually. Captain’s talk.”
“Oh, who’s speaking?”
“Jaclyn.”
Right. I’d forgotten she was captain. I should’ve known that. The school’s so big, it’s hard to keep everyone on my radar.
“And me.” Lucy’s eyes fill with excitement. “Co-captains. Jaclyn says she’s cool with it.”
“What!” I say in an Alex-like whoop. I scoop her near, kissing her forehead. “You are amazing.” She laughs, pushing me away.
“I assume you made your team?” She nods to the varsity and JV guys, huddled around another table. Oh, right. My captain’s talk. “Go have your chat. We can meet up after, okay?”
“Absolutely.” I turn away but my gut turns. My Psych paper’s due tomorrow and the strategy meeting with Dad and Paul is tonight. But how Lucy beams back at me is my answer. My heart twists. There’s no way I’m missing more of that. We’ll hang for dinner then I can buzz back home for the meeting with Dad and Paul. The paper will have to be an all-nighter. No big deal. It’s worth it for time with my girl.
***
Paul looks up from his laptop. “Justin, be reasonable.”
Dad shifts in his chair, not speaking when he should.
“Dad…” I turn, excluding Paul. “An interview? No way. We both agreed I’m not doing that show. It’d be intentionally leading him on to snag money for your campaign. That’s not right. There’s no integrity in that.”
Dad pulls his hands through his hair, like I do. He rolls his lips in before he speaks. “Justin, the preliminary stats are showing this race is too close. With his funding, we could reach so many more voters.”
Paul butts in. “You’ll be projected as honest, smart, and responsible. No one will think badly of you. If anything, it’ll snag more voters for your father. Plus, fifty grand would make a huge difference this close to the end.”
I throw my hands up. It blows my mind why Dad hired this guy. Paul’s always rubbed me the wrong way. Political image adviser? My ass. A reality show is a reality show. It’s going to make our whole family look like chumps.
“Please.” Dad reaches out and squeezes my arm. “I’ve got this campaign covered on every side but through social media. The other guy is dominating out there. That’s a huge voter percentage that I’m missing. Carl would make sure that interview is posted everywhere online.”
I suck in a deep breath. “I’m not single though.”
“Actually,” Paul looks over his glasses at me, “you are. Single is defined as unmarried. So, even if you are dating, you are technically single. The requirements for the show are a marital status of single.” He turns his laptop around, showing me the screen. “Technically, you wouldn’t be lying.”
“Son, I hate asking you to do something you don’t want to do. But this will help us all.”
“The media would eat it up, Justin.”
“Yes. Eat it up, chew on it for a week, and spit it out to the dogs.”
“Justin,” Dad’s voice drops, “it’s TLC. Not MTV.”
I want to scream “No!” Moving against this feeling goes against everything I’ve learned about making life choices.
Dad reaches out and squeezes my arm. “Consider it.”
I grit my teeth and stand. “Fine. One interview. But that’s it.”
“That’s all we’ll need to get the funding and the social media spin.” Paul smiles. “Knew you’d come around.”
Dad glances down at the table, pulling out a new file. I wait for him to feel my glare. Look at me. But he won’t. He’s moved his pawn and now it’s time to strategize some more. This is not the man I grew up admiring. Politics has a way of turning the greatest people into slime.
He continues to rearrange his folders while Paul packs up and leaves. Finally, alone together, his eyes find mine. “Thank you.” He nods to an old family photo on the mantel, the one that includes all of us a few months before Jackson passed away. He’s wrapped in our arms, smiling despite the pain. “Family matters. You’ve done so much for me, son. Thank you for giving a little bit more.”
There’s the man I know. Where was he five minutes ago? Well, now that he’s finally here, I’m not wasting the chance to confront him about how he treated Lucy. I pull open the fridge for some turkey and lemonade. I set them on the counter and take a deep breath. If I’m doing this interview, then he’s got to fess up to being an ass around Lucy.
“What did you think of Lucy?” I ask before taking a swig of lemonade from the container.
“She’s very pretty.”
“Yup,” I say, waiting for more.
“Polite.”
“Uh huh.” I eat a slice of turkey as I watch him figure out how he screwed up. His eyebrows furrow, then spread apart as his mouth drops open with his breath.
Aha, got it. There we go.
“Okay. You’re right. I honestly don’t know how I feel about her. That was my chance to meet her.” He rubs his temple. “I really screwed that one up, didn’t I?”
“I wouldn’t exactly say it went well.”
“I’m sorry that Carl threw me off. I kept thinking campaign instead of family. She’s important to you, correct?”
“Yes. She’s awesome.”
“Oh, so I take it you really like her?”
“As I told you last week at dinner, I love her.” I set the lemonade down. Why didn’t he believe me the first time? Or listen?
“Ah, I see.” Dad straightens out his wedding ring. “Well, then I owe her an apology too. I didn
’t take the time to get to know her, and I definitely want to if she means so much to you.”
“Thank you.” I hold out the lemonade to Dad. He takes a sip.
“Jeff! How many times have I asked you not to drink from that?” Mom says as she opens the basement door, sweaty from her treadmill run.
“He made me do it,” Dad says as he tosses it back to me. Mom laughs and I roll my eyes before I take another long sip.
“Okay, okay.” Mom takes the container away while the rim is still in my mouth. “So what’d I miss?”
“Oh, just Dad forcing me to do a reality show.”
“Jeffery Marshall.” Mom’s voice drops low and stern. “You know how I feel about that show.”
Dad throws his hands up. “It’s only an interview, Christy. Not the show.”
“Are you okay with this?”
No. But it’s not like I have a choice.
“Justin?”
“Yeah. It’s fine. One interview won’t hurt. There’s no way I’m doing that show next fall though.” My eyebrows raise toward Dad.
“I wouldn’t want you to either,” Dad replies.
“Good. Because you both would be on my bad list if you did that show.”
Dad points at me. “Did you know your son is in love?”
I nearly spit lemonade from my mouth. Nice subject change.
“Yes, of course. A mother doesn’t miss that.” Mom steps away from his side. Usually they are all over each other. I mean, this is better, but… it’s weird. There’s too much tension. It reminds me of the days leading up to Jackson’s death.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I messed up meeting her,” Dad growls.
“Because Justin told both of us last week, during our only family dinner. Remember?”
He doesn’t answer.
“See, this is what I’m talking about when I say you need to pay more attention, Jeff.” They stare at one another, silent.
I step back from the counter. Time for a quick exit. “Okay, I’ve got a paper to write.”
“Right now?” Mom calls behind me as I make my way down to the basement. “Didn’t you have dinner with Lucy earlier?”
“Yeah.”
Perfectly Messy Page 4
