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“I told you it wouldn’t work,” Lake says. “I told you if it interfered with basketball, it was done.” I swallow, staring into the cold gray eyes of Ryan’s, and I know the minute I lose. “Just stop, Tessa.” His throat works. “I was wrong about you. You’re just like the rest of the girls that hang around us, and you certainly don’t earn everything you get like you’ve been trying to convince us of. We don’t want you. It’s time for you to leave.”
“Don’t do this.”
“But hey, it was fun,” Ryan says, smiling. “I mean, Alec and Sloan certainly got their rocks off, didn’t they?”
Jealousy flashes in his eyes for a split second. Or maybe it’s not that. Obviously, I can’t read the Ballers at all. I never would have believed I would have ended up in this position again.
A quick sweep of the room tells me everything I need to know. There are no heroes here. No one is going to swoop in at the buzzer and make the winning shot. We’re all losers. I just can’t believe I thought they would stick up for me eventually.
“I’m staying on the team,” I stammer out.
Ryan shrugs. “I’m sure you’ll still have your cheering section.” At that, I turn and head toward the door. My throat is closing quick. I have my hand around the doorknob when Ryan says, “Don’t think you’re going to get any more playing time, Dale. Your shot’s over.”
I pull the door open, leaving it to bang behind me. My chest rips open as I walk to my car alone. It’s three years ago all over again. I remember I ran back to my cabin and cried on my bunk like a baby. Now, I’m running to my mom’s car, tears streaming down my face. It all seems too familiar except Ryan Linc doesn’t come outside to tell me I’m not driving home like this. Nope. Now, I just drive home with my heart torn to shreds, bleeding every mile back up the hill where I apparently belong.
Epilogue
I’m clutching the seat of my chair, white knuckling the folding chair’s gray pad as Ryan sprints down the court. There are two seconds left of the Championship game against Steuben. I jump up with everyone else as he soars through the air. Less than a second left. The ball hits the rim, and I take my first breath of relief in the second half.
The ball falls into the basket. The stadium erupts.
I sit back in my chair, watching the scene unfold around me. RHS just won the State Championships. I’ve played zero minutes since that night the Ballers abandoned me. This doesn’t feel like my victory at all. It feels like my failure. Everything I wanted whooshes past me as the entire team minus myself congregates on the court, hugging one another. From the corner of the court, I see the head of our division walk toward the mass of bodies with a trophy.
Watching it all seems so surreal. When I saw myself here in my head when I made the decision to transfer to RHS and try out for the Warriors, I saw myself in the thick of things. I saw myself fly down the court and make the layup to win the game by one. I saw myself getting hiked up on Ryan Linc’s shoulders. I thought they would all praise me.
Instead, they hate me. Again.
Lake O’Brien screams out a triumphant growl. Hayes, Alec, and Sloan have the biggest smiles on their faces. Not one of them is looking to see where I am. Not one. It’s a far cry from when Alec said he couldn’t wait to share his baseball victory with me. They don’t care about sharing this moment, so why do I still ache to share it with them?
I grab my unused sweat towel and head off toward my special locker room, so I can change out of my crisp jersey. This is just any other day, and to think that I still have three months of junior year left, then basketball camp before we’re back here to do it all over again.
The Ballers may have the upper hand at RHS. I underestimated them, their cruelty, their ability to look the other way when something hits them over the head, but camp is a whole other story. Their asses are mine.
The End