Dare You to Date the Point Guard (Rock Valley High Book 2)

by Lacy Andersen

  She’d find out, one way or another.

  That was what I wanted.

  More than anything.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Bright yellow sparks showered the floor, almost as if they were celebrating the two twisted pieces of metal I’d managed to weld together after two hours of cramp-inducing effort. Turning off the torch and stepping back, I hummed with satisfaction. I wished everything in my life could come together as smoothly as my art projects.

  Art had a way of just happening. Sure, sometimes it was in ways I didn’t expect, but I could always count on reaching an ending that made me feel incredibly accomplished. Life, on the other hand...not so reliable. And love?

  Judging by what had happened in the hallway earlier with Mason and Polly today, I could forget about that ever going my way.

  Just thinking about Mason made my stomach clench. If I was feeling the aftereffects of the love note fail, there was no doubt that he was feeling it even worse. Poor guy had to be devastated. But there was always tomorrow. Always a new day. He just needed a pep talk before we moved onto step three of the plan.

  The plan. We couldn’t deviate from the plan. The plan brought me peace, even when I felt like I was floundering in my final year of high school. The plan would get me my A+ in Research Methods, just like it would produce a perfect sculpture that Rock Valley High would adore for all of time.

  Deviating from the plan would bring failing grades. And disappointment to my parents. And forbidden thoughts of Mason, with his sculpted lips, and mesmerizing blue eyes, and the way he sometimes smelled like dark chocolate...

  Those sneaky little thoughts in my subconscious were yet more proof of why we had to stick to the plan.

  With renewed determination, I wiped the sweaty hair out of my face and packed up my things. It was a rare evening that I managed to get a few spare minutes to work on the senior class present, but this was one of them. And after the events of today, I needed the stress relief that came in the form of scorching flames and melted metal.

  I was ready to blow the joint, but when I walked by the open doors of the gymnasium the sound of a bouncing basketball caught my ears. Most of the athletic practices had already finished up for the night and sent their teams home to get some quality rest for the big game. Rock Valley High was facing off against our rival, Silver Valley, next Friday.

  We couldn’t lose — not on our own turf. It would be embarrassing for all of the Rock Valley Bandits. Everyone in a fifty-mile radius of our town was already on edge.

  I peered into the dimmed lighting of the gym to see who’d stayed behind. The court ran perpendicular to the doors, the bleachers stacked away for the night. My stomach did a sudden dip when I realized who it was.

  Mason was dribbling a ball on the court and grumbling quietly to himself. He wore a pair of jersey-knit shorts and a white t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, showing off the muscular definition in his arms. With expert skill, he raised the ball and threw it at the basket, scoring an effortless free throw. The ball bounced back to him and he sank it again, repeating the motion several more times like a well-oiled machine.

  To anyone else, he would’ve looked like a guy preparing for the big game. But judging from the tension in the coiled and tight muscles along Mason’s arms and the extra frown lines around his mouth, I could tell he was on edge. It seemed that I wasn’t the only one who needed to relieve stress today.

  “Trina? What are you doing here?”

  The sound of my name coming out of his mouth nearly knocked me over. I blinked hard and grasped onto the side of the doorframe to keep myself upright. Mason had spotted me and paused his practice, the basketball held firmly between his hands. I had to wonder just how long I’d been staring at him before he’d said my name.

  “Uh, hi,” I said. Embarrassment leaked into my voice. “I promise I wasn’t stalking you. I was just heading home after working on the sculpture.”

  Mason nodded solemnly, his dark eyes seeming to take in every inch of my appearance. Suddenly, I was very much aware of the still-drying sweat that had probably plastered half of my curls to my forehead. Welding was not exactly a beauty pageant skill — and for good reason. I definitely looked like a hot mess. I needed to go home and take a shower. No one in their right mind would want to be within a hundred feet of this.

  “How about we shoot a few hoops before you go?” Mason held out the ball with one hand. The tension I’d observed just moments ago seemed to have fled from his body. A hopeful smile lingered on his lips. “Loser has to bring a snack to share for class tomorrow.”

  I couldn’t stop the hollow laugh that flew from my mouth. “Might as well let me know what you want to eat, because I’m telling you now, I’m just about a million miles away from Michael Jordan. And you might as well be Shaquille O’Neal.”

  He winced dramatically and rubbed a hand across his head. “Has anybody ever told you that your basketball references are extremely dated? When’s the last time you caught a game?”

  I shrugged. “ESPN isn’t exactly on at our house very often. I think the last time we watched it was for the Olympics. And that was probably for ice skating.”

  As he threw his chin up and stared at the ceiling in dismay, I covered my mouth in a fit of giggles. It was fun to tease Mason. Sometimes, I imagined that I was putting kinks in that armor he always wore around him. One day, I’d wear him down.

  “Here, you can’t be that bad.” Mason tossed the basketball to me and pointed at the hoop. “Let me see what you’ve got.”

  I’d never had an occasion to be sad about my lack of athletic skills. It’d been clear from an early age that I excelled in other areas, namely art and academics. Still, when I tossed aside my bag and aimed the ball at the hoop, regret flushed through me. I couldn’t even muster up an ounce of athletic talent. My pathetic attempt at a two-pointer missed the goal by about two feet and landed with a dull thud on the wooden gymnasium floor.

  “Are you serious?” Mason’s eyes flashed with amusement as he snatched the ball off the ground and walked toward me. “Was that it?”

  I couldn’t help but make a pouty face. “I warned you. When it comes to anything remotely physical, I’m hopeless.”

  He stopped in front of me, his jaw twitching with the hint of a smile. “I don’t accept that. And I especially don’t accept that from a girl who can come back from welding in a lacy white dress and still look like...like that.”

  His eyes trailed up and down my body and suddenly a warm flush ran over me. Yes, I was wearing a lacy dress. My mom had bought it for me this Christmas. But it was paired with a sensible and comfy set of leggings that protected against any wayward sparks. Plus, I’d been careful to wear the protective gear while welding. It wasn’t magic that kept me looking nice.

  “Fine.” I snatched the ball out of his hand. His eyes twinkled in response, but he didn’t try to stop me. “I’ll shoot again.”

  My second attempt was no better than the first. With a thud, the ball hit the floor and rolled off. Mason ran to fetch it. I stood with my arms wrapped about my waist, knowing once and for all that I was hopeless.

  “Okay, so that was pathetic.” Mason tucked the ball under his arm and regarded me with a cocky expression. “Forget Shaq. I’m pretty sure my four-year-old neighbor could beat you.”

  “Told you. I’ve got the arm strength of a toddler and the jump shot of a sea cucumber.”

  A ridiculous expression crossed Mason’s face for a mere second, and then the most unexpected, wondrous thing happened. Raucous laughter burst from his lips like water spouting up from Old Faithful. He grasped his abdomen for air and his face turned beet red. I stood there, shocked, wondering if I should be recording this miracle with my phone.

  Never in my life had I expected to see Mason Finnick full out laughing. And smiling. It was a good look on him. One that made my heart warm.

  “You are the most random person I’ve ever met,” he finally managed to say between gasping breaths
for air. His face was still red, but it had downgraded to more of a tomato red. “I never know what to expect. The jump shot of a sea cucumber...?” He chuckled again. “I can’t even breathe.”

  I grinned. It was nice to feel like I could still surprise people. Lately, between my studies and school projects, I’d begun to feel like a skipping record.

  “You know...you’ve got a fantastic smile. You should do that more often.”

  It was true. Until now, I’d never noticed how straight and white his teeth were. His mom must’ve shelled out a few thousand bucks to perfect that smile.

  His eyes shone with mischief as he tried and failed to frown. “No, no, no, I can’t have people thinking I’m human. You can’t be intimidating on the court if you’re smiling all the time. I need my enemies to fear me.”

  It was my turn to laugh. Mason had definitely fully embraced the intimidating persona. It brought back memories of him breaking up the fight between those two kids. At least he put his scary image to good use, both on the court and off. Still, I’d trade a little bit of that for more of his laughs. It was an amazing sound.

  “All right, back to business,” Mason said, snapping his fingers. He took one, last deep breath and set his shoulders. “We’ve got to fix this. You’re going to make at least one shot before I’m through with you.”

  “But I can’t. I told you, I’m hopeless.”

  “You can...if I show you how.”

  Before I knew what was happening, Mason had stepped behind me and wrapped his arms around mine, placing the ball in my hands. An unbidden thrill went down my spine. He was close. Closer than he’d ever been before. My head screamed at me, telling me this was wrong in so many ways, but my heart fluttered in disobedience. And as he adjusted my grip on the ball, I couldn’t help but appreciate the salty scent of his skin and the heat of his chest pressed up against my back.

  “See, you make a T with your thumbs,” he said in a smooth, low voice. His breath was warm on the side of my neck and I had to fight off the shivers that it induced or else I was in danger of becoming a pool of jelly right there on the gymnasium floor. “Spread your fingers as wide as they can go. Then, bend your elbows and use the momentum of your entire body to shoot.”

  Nothing he said made sense to me. It could’ve been my utter lack of athletic training, or the fact that I was having trouble thinking straight with his arms wrapped around me. Either way, my heart rate had skyrocketed and I was starting to worry that the sound of blood rushing through my ears was loud enough for even him to hear.

  “So, I’m supposed to shoot?” My voice sounded dangerously weak. “I don’t think I can do it.”

  “Don’t overthink it.” Another thrill ran down my back as his breath tickled my neck. “Nothing good ever comes out of overthinking it.”

  He released my hands and took a small step back. Part of me was glad for the distance. Maybe now, my brain would start working again. But the other part of me was sad to see him go.

  Squinting my eyes until they were nothing but slits, I did what he instructed and used the momentum of my body to shoot. It was too nerve-wracking to watch. With my fingers plastered over my eyes, I peered between the cracks. The ball hit the rim and bounced back and forth. On the fourth heart-stopping bounce, it tipped and fell into the net, scoring me my very first goal. A shriek of happiness left my mouth and I did a little dance in celebration.

  “I did it!” I grabbed the bouncing ball and swung around to beam at Mason. “You’re officially an amazing coach. The very best in the world!”

  Amusement danced in his eyes as he placed his hands on his narrow hips. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone get so excited over a single goal before.”

  Nothing Mason could say or do in this moment could dampen my excitement. He seriously had no idea what a miracle that goal had been. If he’d polled my last ten years of gym teachers, he’d understand what a hopeless cause stood before him.

  “Well, don’t you know, I was going for total world domination,” I said, biting back a grin. “And my one weakness was my lack of basketball skills. Now, thanks to you, I can rule the world.”

  “Well, in that case, I’m glad I could help.”

  He stepped closer, until the only thing separating us was the ball in my hands. The look — that very same look he’d given me before we starting welding — was back. It was serious and heavy and made my stomach jump into my throat. He reached for the basketball, his hands covering mine. I trembled as the pad of his thumb stroked softly along my finger, causing fire to burst up and down my arm.

  “What’s...what’s your secret weakness?” My voice came out like a whisper. I couldn’t look away from his face. He had me frozen like a deer in headlights. “You know mine. It’s only fair that I know yours. That is, if you have any.”

  He snorted and looked away. “Trust me, I’ve got weaknesses.”

  I had a hard time believing that. For a guy as confident and strong as Mason, there wasn’t much he couldn’t do.

  “Like?”

  His gaze flicked back to mine and then sank to my mouth. I watched as his tongue darted from his mouth to wet his lips. “I’m not sure if I should tell you.”

  Nerves exploded in my stomach. It was the same kind of feeling I got whenever I even considered breaking curfew. Like I wanted so very much to be naughty for the first time in my life. “You can tell me.”

  “I’m impatient.” His dark eyes flashed. “I’m moody. I don’t always play well with others.”

  Soft laughter spilled from my lips. “That’s not exactly a secret. I already knew that. And besides, those don’t sound like weaknesses. Try harder.”

  His grip tightened on my hands and the basketball underneath. “I really, really, really hate it when I can’t have what I want.”

  There was a hidden message in Mason’s words. I knew it was there by the way his jaw tightened. It made me wonder what exactly it was that Mason wanted so badly. Could it be the state basketball championship? Or Polly? Or something else?

  For a single moment, I allowed myself to wonder what it would be like for Mason to want me. Only me. And there was no Polly or Project Happiness. At the same time, I wondered what it would be like to give into that heat building in my belly. If I were Audrey or Mandy, I’d reach up and kiss him right here on the basketball court. They were much better than me at taking what they wanted. There would be no hesitation. His hands in my hair, our bodies pressed together—

  “Trina?”

  I snapped out of my daydreams and blinked up at him, my cheeks burning. Hopefully he wasn’t a mind reader.

  “Is there a chance...?” He swallowed and cleared his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the effort. “I mean, is there any reason to think...?”

  I waited for him to continue, my heart urging for him to say what was on my mind. If only.

  “What I want to ask is...?” He looked down at the floor, hesitation wracking his face.

  The sound of footsteps approaching snapped us out of our trance. We weren’t alone. The basketball slipped from my fingers and bounced between us with a hollow thud. As a figure appeared in the doorway, I took a giant step back from Mason. It was Polly, dressed in a white tank and tiny red shorts that showed off her gorgeously long legs. She stopped when she saw the two of us, her eyes darting back and forth.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said, taking another step toward us. Her long blonde hair fell over her shoulder in perfect soft curls. For the first time I could remember in my life, I desperately wished that I could look that put together all the time. “I waited in the parking lot to talk to you after practice, but you never came out. I wanted to thank you for what you wrote in that note.”

  I realized with a jolt that she was talking to Mason about the love note. Disappointment fell heavy on my chest, making it hard to take a breath. I smiled through the pain, feeling entirely undone by my violent reaction to Polly’s sudden appearance. This was a good thing. A great thing
. She was finally starting to come around. The plan was working.

  “You guys obviously need to talk. I’m just going to go,” I said, pointing over my shoulder.

  Mason took a step toward me, regret washing over his face. “Trina, wait—”

  “No, it’s fine. My parents will be wondering where I’m at.” I managed to take a small breath that sounded a bit like a gasp. Pain shot through my chest. “Really, I should’ve left hours ago.”

  It was true. I never should’ve stopped by the gym. If I’d just kept to the plan, I wouldn’t have been fighting this strange and overwhelming sense of loss. I needed to get out of there. I needed to give Polly and Mason their time alone.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said, not meeting Mason’s eyes as I scooped up my backpack. “Good luck.”

  I didn’t wait for a reply. By the time my feet hit the hallway tiles, Polly had swept in and redirected Mason’s attention back to her. And when I finally reached my car, my whole body was shaking.

  I couldn’t even look at myself in the rearview mirror. Tonight I’d allowed myself to think some dangerous thoughts. To tread on someone else’s relationship. It wasn’t like me. I was better than that. I was the nice friend. The girl who made everyone around her happy.

  Where had I gone so wrong?

  Chapter Fifteen

  The tap, tap, tapping noise next to my arm startled me from a trance. I glanced up from my magazine to see Charley staring at me, her patchy eyebrows raised in expectation. In her hand was a neon pink gel pen, its cap still pounding a rhythm on my armrest.

  “Hello, Earth to Trina. I asked you what you were reading about a million times, but I think you were in a coma. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

  I smiled guiltily at her and wearily closed the article I’d been looking at in Seventeen. Here I was supposed to be keeping her company during her chemo and I couldn’t seem to stop my brain from drifting away. A million thoughts weighed heavy on my mind. My parents and the conversation we had this morning being one of them.