A Game Worth Watching (15 page)

Riley
didn’t seem affected at all as he cleared his throat and smiled at her. “I
might be talking about dancing too.”

She
matched his smile as he took her hand again and spun her before snapping her
back to him. He started wiggling his head and bouncing around, trying and
failing to find the beat. Emma couldn’t help but laugh.

“What
are you doing?” she shouted above the music.

“Dancing,”
he yelled back.

She
shook her head. “That’s not dancing.”

“It’s
what everyone else is doing.”

Emma
looked around her. Sure, Riley’s movements sort of resembled those of their
peers, but everyone else seemed more competent and graceful at it. Their
movements actually looked like dancing. Riley was good at a lot of things, but
moving in sync with the rhythm of a song was not one of them. Watching his
eyebrows scrunch together in concentration as he tried to mimic everyone else
only made Emma laugh harder.

He
grabbed her hand. “Dance with me.”

“No,
way,” she said, shaking her head. “You look like a bobblehead on a pogo stick.”

His
concentrated look gave way to a grin. He shook his head like a dog and stomped
around like some kid having a temper tantrum. She bent over, clutching her
side, unable to breathe through her laughter.

Stopping
abruptly, he grabbed her shoulders to steady himself. “I’m kinda dizzy.”

Emma
wiped tears from her eyes, choking back more giggles. “It’s your own fault.”

He
slipped his arm around her shoulders. “I think I need to sit down. Maybe the
whole dancing thing wasn’t such a great idea.”

“I
told you,” she slid her arm around his waist to support his weight, “that
wasn’t dancing; it was a crime against mankind.”

He
glared at her. “Very funny.”

They
found a bench in the commons and sat so Riley could recoup after his dancing
episode. He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes, while Emma
took a deep breath and relaxed for the first time all night.

Compared
to other people, Emma didn’t have much in life. She didn’t have money, fancy
clothes, popularity status, a loving family, or dreams for the future, but
maybe having so little helped her appreciate moments like this: her and Riley,
side by side, taking it all in—the music drifting up from the gym, the
laughter of their peers, the teachers-turned-chaperones attempting to enforce
boundaries between couples. Moments like this made the world slow down and
helped her breathe a little easier.

She
glanced at Riley and smiled. With his eyes closed and his face relaxed, he
reminded her of the boy she’d met eight years ago. The one who befriended her
over a game of basketball, who protected her from the insults of other kids,
who comforted her when life made unexpected turns. She loved how his arm hung
loosely around her shoulders, how his hair spiked up in all the right places,
how his unexpected presence at the dance calmed her. His eyes flickered open,
and she looked away before he caught her staring.

Girls.
Three of them walked by, the object of their affections obvious, as they
glanced at Riley with smiles intact, hoping he’d look their way. He didn’t. He
stared past them, his arm draped over Emma’s shoulders, like he didn’t have a
care in the world.

She
nodded in the direction of the girls as they gave him a backward glance. “I
think I’m cramping your style.”

If
it had been Tom instead of Riley, he would have abandoned Emma and pursued them
like a cat after a mouse, but Riley cast them a quick look and turned his
attention back to Emma.

“I
could say the same thing,” he said.

Emma
scrunched her eyebrows together in confusion.

He
nodded in the opposite direction, and her attention followed. Two guys she
didn’t know smiled at her when she made eye contact with them. It wasn’t just a
friendly you-up-for-a-game-of-basketball smile, but more like a
let’s-go-find-a-dark-corner-on-the-dance-floor smile. Emma shuddered. Scary.
She spun her attention back to Riley, not wanting to give the guys any
encouragement to pursue her.

Without
the darkness to shield her, Riley saw her cheeks burn red, and he laughed.
“They’ve been staring at you since we sat down. Not that I blame them; you do
look amazing. Like a real girl.”

She
pushed away from him in disgust. She hated when he said things like that,
especially since Lauren’s words were still fresh in her memory. An ugly mutt
like Emma wasn’t supposed to elicit the attention of any guy or prompt
compliments from her male best friend.

“Sorry,”
Riley said for nothing more than mere formality, “but I did notice.”

It
must have been the stupid hair and outfit the girls forced her to wear. “It’s
not my fault I was attacked by a bunch of crazy girls. Seven against one isn’t
exactly fair odds.” She crossed her arms and slouched against the bench. “Trust
me; none of this was my idea.”

Movement
caught her eye, and she glanced up to see Tom and Jerry coming their way from
across the commons. Tom gave her a slow head nod and smiled like he was glad to
see her. Odd. He usually didn’t acknowledge her existence with such
friendliness. Looking for a distraction, Emma raised her hand in hello and
waved them over.

When
Tom got closer, she realized his friendly face looked more like a kid ogling
his favorite ice cream. She’d seen this look before. The one he saved for when
he saw a pretty girl and was in prey mode. Oh, no.

Tom
plopped next to her, way too close for comfort. “Who’s your friend, Riley?”

The
way Tom’s eyes wandered over her made Emma squirm. She scooted closer to Riley.
Tom seriously didn’t recognize her. He was coming on to her. Gross. Did a girl
just have to put on a tight shirt and do something different with her hair for
guys like Tom to gawk at her?

Riley
patted her leg and laughed. “Oh, you know, just some girl.”

“Geez,
Em.” Jerry grabbed a strand of her wavy hair and pulled it straight. “When did
you become a girl?” He let go of her hair and it sprung back into place.

“Oh,
man,” Tom said, his jaw dropping as recognition hit him. “It
is
you.”

“Ya
think?” She pushed him away. Dumb jock applied to Tom in too many ways.

The
ogling look returned to Tom’s face as he slung his arm around Emma’s shoulder
and pulled her toward him. “I could get used to this.”

She
shrugged off his arm and stood. “Ew.” The idea of Tom thinking of her as an
actual girl made her want to punch him. It was just…wrong.

“Why
are you dressed like that?” Jerry asked as if it was too weird for him. Good.
At least one of the guys was on her side.

“I
was attacked by the girls on my team. Their brilliant idea to come to the dance
together,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“If
you’re supposed to be with the girls, what are you doing with this loser?” Tom
asked, punching Riley on the arm.

“You
know how she is,” Riley said with a grin. “She just can’t get enough of me.”

She
opened her mouth to respond, but then she heard the familiar voices of her
fellow species behind her. She squeezed her eyes shut. Not now. Please, not
now. Five more minutes of quality guy time was all she needed.

“There
you are,” Ashley said, grabbing Emma’s arm.

“Hey,
kid,” Emma muttered. “Do me a favor and come back in ten minutes.”

Madison
appeared on Emma’s other side. “Nice try, but we’re here as a team, and we
can’t be a team if you’re not with us.”

Since
when did they consider her part of the team? Since when did team spill over the
edge of the basketball court and seep into private time? Emma looked to Riley
for support, but he just waved at her, smiling his stupid lopsided smile, as
hands dragged her away from him. So much for her wingman.

Emma
had to wash her hair three times to get all the hairspray out, and she’d nearly
scrubbed her skin off trying to remove the face paint. After her wingman
allowed her to be kidnapped by the girls for the second time, she endured
another two hours of giggling, hip bumping, gossiping, and squealing before the
dance finally ended and Madison took her home.

Never.
Again.

Even
though teaching the art of the drive to a freshman who had difficulty not
tripping over her own feet proved to be more challenging than Emma expected,
returning to one-on-one practices with Ashley was a welcome task after the
stupid dance. Sure the kid could dribble, but add a defender and the pressure
to score, and the kid froze like an ice cube. The success plan consisted of
repetition and slow motion. One dribble, two dribbles, with verbalized
instruction every step of the way.

After
an hour, and what felt like a thousand repetitions, Emma finally saw progress.
Ashley’s movements became quicker and more fluid. Her small body, filled with
confidence, controlled the ball as she swept around Emma and drove to the
basket, pulling up for a shot to complete the play. The kid whooped and
hollered after every drive, but Emma refrained from patting the freshman on the
back or giving her any kind of encouragement or praise. That’s how egos formed
and friendships started.

“Lookin’
good, girls.”

The
voice rang loud and clear in the empty gymnasium. Emma froze. No. No, no, no.
This was not happening. Riley was
not
supposed to be here; he wasn’t supposed to
know about her post-practice sessions with the freshman. She spun around to his
all too familiar face smiling back at her.

“What
are you doing here?” she hissed, walking quickly toward him to block his
attempt at a meet and greet with the freshman.

He
strutted forward with a grin plastered on his face. “I told you I’d find out
eventually,” he whispered in her ear. He looked over Emma’s shoulder and nodded
at the freshman. “Who’s this?”

“Nobody,”
Emma said through gritted teeth.

“That’s
not very nice,” Riley said like he was some authority figure teaching her
manners.

How
could she care about good manners or spare the feelings of a freshman when he
was two seconds away from finding out her precious secret? She placed her hands
on his shoulders and pushed him back toward the door. “Neither are you for
showing up here uninvited.”

“That’s
a best friend’s right.” He spun past her and made a beeline for Ashley, his
hand outstretched like he was a boss welcoming a newbie to the job. “I’m Riley,
and you are?”

Ashley
smiled shyly and slipped her tiny hand in Riley’s. “Ashley.”

“Nice
to meet you, Ashley,” he said, his face pinched with mock professionalism. “And
what exactly is your relationship to my beloved Emma Wrangton?”

Ashley
suppressed a giggle. “Emma’s teaching me how to play basketball.”

Emma
slapped a hand to her forehead. Did freshmen not know when to keep their mouths
shut and not willingly give information just because some guy asked for it?

“Really?”
Riley asked in surprise, turning around to look at Emma. It obviously wasn’t
the response he’d expected.

Ashley
nodded. “She’s amazing.”

“I
know,” he said genuinely, not taking his eyes off Emma.

“Okay.”
Emma grabbed him by the arm. “You’ve figured out my little secret. Now it’s
time for you to leave.”

He
winked at Ashley and twisted out of Emma’s grasp. “Relax, Em. I’m here to give
you a ride home.”

“I
don’t need a ride home.”

He
ignored her and headed for the bleachers. “I’ll sit over here and wait. You
won’t even know I’m here.”

Emma
always knew when Riley was around. Even if she couldn’t see him, she always
sensed his presence. Maybe it was a best friend thing or a girl thing or some
twilight zone thing. Whatever it was, she couldn’t ignore him, no matter how
hard she tried. But what other choice did she have? She turned her back on him
and tried to focus on Ashley, knowing her attempts to ban Riley from the
premises would only increase his determination to stay.

“Is
he your boyfriend?” Ashley whispered.

“No!”
Emma snapped. “He’s just a friend.”

Ashley
glanced over at Riley. “He’s cute.”

Emma
rolled her eyes. Typical girl response. “Can we please focus here?”

“Sorry.”

Teaching
Ashley under Riley’s scrutiny was not the easiest thing she had ever done,
especially since whenever Emma’s eyes wandered toward him, he’d smile and wave
like he had every right to watch them. The kid laughed every time. When Emma
couldn’t take it any longer, she ended practice fifteen minutes earlier than
usual.

The
three of them walked out together. Riley and Ashley made small talk. Emma
fumed. She hadn’t wanted them to meet, knowing Riley would take Ashley under
his wing and befriend her, while laughing at Emma for taking on a pity project.

Ashley
and her mom gave Emma identical waves, complete with super-duper girly smiles,
before driving into the night. Aside from a few side-glances from Riley, their
ride home took place in silence. She didn’t feel like explaining her actions or
listening to him tease her, so she stared out the window at the darkened sky
with her mouth closed.

“Why
didn’t you tell me?” he finally asked. They were sitting outside her house in
his jeep. Emma not ready to go in and Riley not ready to let her.

“Tell
you what? That I’m teaching some freshman how to put a ball through a hoop?” She
continued to scowl out the window, unable to look at his face. Here it comes,
she thought. The laughter, the accusation, the ridicule.

“You’re
amazing, you know that?”

Or
not. His sincerity caught her off guard, and she turned to look at him. His
eyes were gentle, kind. Like he was watching a stranger with awe. She didn’t
understand. “For teaching some freshman how to put a ball through a hoop?” she
repeated. It seemed pretty basic to her. It’s not like basketball was a game
for superheroes or anything.