A Game Worth Watching (6 page)

She
practically sprinted to the getaway car. She threw her bag into the backseat
before climbing into the passenger seat next to him.

He
put the car in gear and stepped on the gas. “So, how was it?” When she kept her
eyes fixed on the darkness beyond her window rather than answer, he risked a
glance in her direction. “Ah, Em,” he groaned. “Don’t tell me you caused
trouble on the first day.”

Jerking
upright in the seat, she shifted her body toward him. How dare he accuse her of
causing trouble. If he wanted to blame someone, he could point his finger at
the other seven girls and a coach. “I didn’t cause anything. I told you they
hated me and would never accept me as part of the team, and I was right. I
mean, is it my fault I was the only one who could dribble the ball?”

Riley
laughed. He had no idea. Even if she described practice in detail, he’d never
believe how horrible the girls’ team was and how they’d never win a game in a
million years.

“This
is all your fault.” She slouched in her seat, regretting every second she’d
spent holed up in the gym with all those girls. “I can’t believe I let you talk
me into this. Do you have any idea what it’s like playing basketball with
girls? It’s an absolute nightmare.”

“I
don’t know.” He grinned at her. “I kind of like it.”

She
rolled her eyes. Riley’s only experience with girls and basketball consisted of
Saturday basketball games with her and the guys. Not a good comparison. “Trust
me. No other girl out there is like me. They’re prissy and conceited and have
absolutely no athletic ability. And they complain about
everything
.”

“Kind
of like what you’re doing now?” he teased.

She
glared at him. “Not helping. In fact, I may not go back tomorrow.”

“Whoa,
okay.” His hand shot over to grasp her arm. “I’m sorry.”

She
froze. His touch reminded her of her idiot kiss move earlier. All she could do
was stare at his fingers on her arm, her cheeks burning in embarrassment, and
hope he wouldn’t feel the need to have a little heart-to-heart chat about what
the kiss meant. It meant absolutely nothing.

“You’re
right,” he said, breaking into her thoughts. It took her a second to realize he
was talking about the girls and not agreeing with her about the kiss. “I don’t
know what it’s like for you, but I’m sure it will get better.”

“Doubt
it,” she mumbled, knowing she’d be at practice tomorrow and hating how Riley
had so much power over her. “Why is this so important to you anyway?
Considering it’s my life, shouldn’t I at least have a say in decisions
affecting me?”

“Sorry,”
he said, unconvincingly. “But you don’t have the best judgment on what’s best
for you, which is why you have me. And I’ve told you why this is important;
this could be your ticket out of here. I don’t want to see you follow the same
dead-end path as the rest of your family.”

Emma
tensed.

The
smile faded from Riley’s face, and his eyes shot in her direction. “I’m sorry,
that came out wrong.”

No
member of her family was on the fast track to success. It was a fact, not a
secret. But family was family. If she didn’t defend them, who would? “My
family’s not all bad,” she said quietly, keeping her focus on the floor.
Sometimes it was difficult to see past Logan’s passiveness or Lance’s hatred of
the world, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d spent five minutes of
uninterrupted time with her dad. But they hadn’t left her. That had to count
for something.

“I
know.” Riley glanced over at her again. “I’m not all bad, either. I just have
dreams for your future.”

She
snorted. “My future.” When she thought about her future all she saw was a job
with a hair net and grease stains. Not exactly the dream occupation. She didn’t
have to look at Riley to know he was rolling his eyes, thinking very different
things for her future.

“You’ll
see.”

His
tone made Emma look at him, believing for a moment that everything he dreamed
for her could come true, that it was all within her grasp if she just reached
for it. It was only an instant. The feeling disappeared when he pulled into the
driveway of her house, and she watched Lance slam the front door and storm down
the porch steps. He threw himself behind the wheel of his CR-X, which only
worked half the time, and Emma heard the engine cough and sputter a few times
before finally turning over. Gravel shot out from beneath the tires as he
reversed and sped past Riley’s jeep.

She
saw her dad’s silhouette in the window, his head bowed into his hands. Fighting
with his son took more out of him than an entire day working two jobs. She
longed to comfort him, to assure him everything would be all right and to tell
him he wasn’t the world’s worst dad, but she remained beside Riley, staring in
from the outside. Like always.

Freshmen.
Sophomores. Juniors. Seniors. Sometimes it felt like high school was nothing
more than an experiment to see how kids survived when thrown together. Whether
it was a fistfight, shouting match, or popularity contest, drama occurred daily
in the hallways at Bradshaw High School. Today was no different.

Emma
heard the commotion behind her and turned, expecting to find two girls high on
ego fighting over boyfriends or stolen lipstick containers or whatever else
girls fought about in school hallways. What she didn’t expect to see was a
face-off between two of her so-called teammates. Teammates or not, their
disputes were none of her business. So why didn’t she turn her back on them and
head to class? Because she knew what it felt like not to be big enough or
strong enough to fight her own battles. And yeah, maybe she was looking for an
opportunity to confront Lauren face to face.

Ashley
hadn’t grown any in the past twenty-four hours. Cowering next to Lauren made
her look even smaller. Whatever the reason for their argument, half the kids in
the hallway had stopped to stare at the mismatched pair. Where were the
teachers? Nowhere to be seen. Emma sighed and pushed through the wall of
students. Grabbing the kid by the back of the shirt, Emma yanked her out from
beneath Lauren’s towering body to stand in her place. Maybe now it would be a
fair fight.

“Problem?”

Lauren
staggered back, no longer able to use her height to intimidate her prey
considering Emma had her by an inch. Her eyes flickered between Emma, Ashley,
and the witnesses surrounding them, regaining her composure before plunging
ahead. “Not anymore. Team voted, and since she’s nothing more than a hazard on
the court, she’s off the team,” Lauren said, with a nod in Ashley’s direction.

“Really?”
Emma glanced toward the kid huddled next to the wall. “Because I don’t remember
casting a vote.”

“Your
vote doesn’t matter.
I know you think you’re
better than everyone else, but you’re not.” Lauren crossed her arms and shifted
her weight to the side. “You’re just a loser looking for handouts.”

Bite
tongue, breathe deep, and make sure fists remain at sides. Emma could always
count on Lauren to make her feel like she never quite measured up. All Emma
wanted to do was fulfill her promise to Riley with the least amount of trouble
as possible, but Lauren wasn’t making it easy. Ever since the whole soccer ball
incident in elementary school, Lauren had made her life miserable, ridiculing
her about everything from the state of her clothes to her lack of female
know-how to her existence on earth. Over the years, she had learned to avoid
Lauren, but being on the same team and enduring daily practices with her would
take every scrap of control she could muster.

“You’ll
never be a part of this team.” Lauren’s voice dropped to a whisper, but it
managed to hold onto its cold edge. “I don’t care if you’re Coach’s pet and
have all the right moves. This is my team, not yours.”

“That’s
evident.” Emma took a step forward, closing the distance between them. Just
because she wasn’t looking for trouble didn’t mean she would remain silent
forever. “Because if it
was
my team, we’d actually win a game once in a while.”

Lauren’s
scowl deepened. Did she really think the team was worth staking a claim on?

“If
you want to kick the freshman off the team, I go too.”

Lauren’s
shock melted into an evil grin. “Even better.”

“Which
would leave you with a total of six players, and based on what I’ve seen in
practice, none of you would last through the first quarter of a game without
substitutes.” She shrugged like she didn’t have a care in the world. “But who
am I to point out the obvious?”

Despite
Lauren’s attempt at authority, fear flickered in her eyes. “Sometimes you need
to cut the deadweight loose to start fresh.”

Emma
laughed. “The team’s been overloaded with deadweight since you were a freshman,
but if that’s the approach you want to take, good luck losing every game.
Again. I look forward to watching you uphold tradition.” For someone who wanted
nothing more than to walk away from the girls’ team and never look back, Emma
sure swayed the conversation in an undesirable direction. Not even Lauren
wanted to spend another season as the worst team in the league. Whether she
would admit it or not, Lauren needed Emma and the kid if she wanted any chance
at winning a game or two this year.

Lauren
didn’t answer at first. She just glared at Emma, probably trying to decide how
big of a hit her reputation would take if she admitted defeat in a hallway full
of eager listeners. “Fine, have it your way. But don’t think for a second
anyone wants you or the disaster on the team.”

Like
that wasn’t obvious enough already. “One more thing.” Emma nodded toward the
freshman. “Leave the kid alone. If you touch her again, you’ll regret it.” She
really didn’t care what happened to the kid with the mammoth feet, but she did
care when people like Lauren bullied weaker kids.

Pushing
Emma out of the way, Lauren stomped down the hall, her blonde hair swishing in
her wake.

“Thanks,”
the kid said, appearing beside Emma.

Emma
watched Lauren retreat down the hall, making sure she wasn’t preparing for
round two. “Don’t mention it.” The rest of the students in the hall dispersed,
casting backward glances at her like she was the new kid overstepping her
bounds.

“I’m
not usually so clumsy.” Ashley, unable to look Emma in the eye, wrung her hands
and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I’m just nervous.”

“Save
it for someone who cares.” Emma didn’t want to hear excuses or give the kid a
reason to continue talking. “Get to class.”

Ashley
scampered down the hallway, twisting around for one last look at Emma before
she turned the corner and disappeared.

Emma
spun in the opposite direction to get to her own class before the bell rang,
and she collided with a body blocking her path. Strong hands caught and
steadied her as she stumbled backward. She looked into a pair of blue eyes
she’d know anywhere.

“What
was that about?” Riley asked, nodding in the direction of the freshman.

“Nothing,”
she said, regaining her balance. “Just a little team disgruntlement.”

“Who
was the kid?”

“No
one.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Ashley didn’t register on Emma’s radar of
importance so she really was no one. No one she needed to be concerned about.

Or
so she thought.

***

After
three days of practice, Emma continued to search in vain for any shred of progress
among her teammates. Sure, Coach conducted a daily overview of fundamental
skills, but her approach was exactly the same as if an algebra teacher
conducted a brief overview of advanced logarithms and expected her students to
ace the final exam, keeping a blind eye to their failing grades. The team
hopped from one drill to the next as if the fast forward button was jammed in
the on position. No progress, just gradual decline into the worst team
imaginable.

Emma
didn’t know anything about coaching, but she knew basketball. The best way to
master the sport was to start with the basics and build upward, taking as much
time as necessary to master each skill before proceeding, not crossing your
fingers and hoping everyone magically developed skills overnight. The more
mistakes her teammates made, the harder she played.

On
a standard play down the court, she snapped a pass to Madison on the left side.
Although Madison’s hands were ready for the pass, no defender in sight, the
ball sailed through them and smacked her in the face. She froze from the shock
of impact, and then whimpered a cry of pain. Were those real tears in her eyes?
Seriously? Sure, with the velocity the ball had traveled it probably stung a
little and half her face would be numb for a while, but come on. Getting
punched in the face with an elbow or a fist hurt way worse, and Emma had
endured it a half-dozen times without tears. Did girls really have such a low
tolerance for pain?

Coach
blew the whistle. The rest of the team huddled around Coach as she inspected
Madison’s face for any permanent damage.

Lauren
didn’t waste any time confronting Emma. “Good one, hotshot.”

“Get
out of my way,” Emma said through clenched teeth. Three confrontations in two
days. They would never survive the season as teammates.

“Or
what?” Lauren challenged her. “Are you going to smack me in the face with a
ball too?”

The
mere thought put a smile on Emma’s face. “I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to
it.”

Lauren’s
eyes narrowed as she took another step toward Emma, their faces inches apart.
“You’re a joke,” Lauren spit out. “No wonder your mom left you.”

The
smile fell off Emma’s face, and her hands slammed into Lauren’s chest. “Stay
away from me.”

Lauren
stumbled backward. When she saw the rest of the girls watching them, her face
scrunched up, preparing for tears. Tears she’d probably rehearsed hundreds of
times to gain the sympathy vote. Girls! Such the drama queens.