Page 27

“Oh, stop,” she responded lightheartedly.

The one thing I really appreciated about my mother was that she was self-aware.

“I don’t think you met Ray. He was the boyfriend from your…

sophomore year to junior year. Yes. Yeah.

” She was quiet for a beat. “Yes, because we went to Vancouver for his work trip in the spring. ”

“Right,” I said. Sometimes, it felt a little bit like I was the mom and my mom was the one with the ridiculous early-twenties schedule. I was always asking her what happened to a boyfriend or a friend, and saying things like, Wait, I thought you were dating Sam? Who’s Nick?

“Anyway. I don’t have anyone on my radar right now, and I love it, don’t get me wrong. But I miss being wined and dined. It makes me feel like a teenager again. I’m suddenly a sixteen-year-old girl waiting to get picked up by the senior boy—”

“Okay, alright,” I said, not needing to get into her wild teenage years again. Anyone who thought I went hard with partying and meeting new people had never met my mom.

“Who is this new crush? Can you tell me anything?”

I weighed my options quickly, thinking through the pros and cons of telling her.

A major pro was that my mom was normal about crushes, so if I told her I was over Theo, she’d let it go and never bring it up again.

A con—probably the con—was that I’d have to verbally admit that I was really into Theo.

“She’s a basketball player,” I said, a comfortable middle ground.

“College?”

“Yeah. I met her through a mutual friend, I guess. Or mutual friends. At a party.”

“An athlete is different for you.”

“Exactly. ”

Mom was quiet for a minute. I listened to the soft whirr of her treadmill and the sound of her feet hitting the belt. “Is she nice?”

I thought about Theo bringing snacks to us hanging out, the way she offered to go get me Twix.

She was considerate about time, about making a move.

I loved that she’d waved at Iris when I saw her at the game instead of pretending my best friend didn’t exist. And then offering to take us to a men’s game, all because she knew Iris had a crush on a basketball player.

I nearly groaned. It was even worse than I thought. Not only was she nice, but she was just as nosy and invested in setting Iris up with her crush as I was. She was shaping up to be my ideal match.

“Unfortunately,” I said, defeated.

“I think you might need to see this one through, baby.”

I groaned. “Don’t give me your Pisces Venus advice right now. You’re no help.”

“I want what’s best for you. Find the person who loves you the way that you should be loved,” Mom said. “And find someone worth bringing home to me, whether it’s this crush or the next one. I’m dying to finally meet one of your girlfriends.”

I half-rolled my eyes, but smiled. “Miss you, Mom.”

“Miss you, too, baby. I’m gonna get back to my workout—I’m doing a lap around Central Park right now and I’m close to being done.”

We hung up, and I sprawled out on my bed with my phone to my chest. My mom had unfortunately given me the advice I’d secretly wanted to hear, but had also hoped she wouldn’t give me—I had to keep sticking this thing out with Theo.

I needed to get her out of my system, needed to find something that would make me not like her. It was the only way.

Theo texted me the next day while I was in class about which men’s game we’d want to go to.

Scheduling was tight, mostly because Theo was going to be in and out of town for away games, and Iris had work.

My schedule was slightly more agreeable, but only because my time was spent on social outings—getting brunch, drinks, dinner—and studying.

Anything on my calendar could be theoretically rescheduled.

We eventually found one that lined up after Theo came back from the away games. There was one specific Thursday when the men’s team was playing, Theo didn’t have a game and wouldn’t be out of town, and Iris didn’t have to work.

“I’m trying not to be offended that I’m somehow the one here with the least intensive schedule,” I said when I told Iris what day we were going. I threw myself down onto the couch next to her as she turned on Theo’s away game that was on that night.

“Someone has to be the one who’s easy to plan with.

It works well with Theo. If I were trying to date her and we had our current schedules, I’d see her, like, once a month.

She’d be my permanent no, guys, I swear she’s real, she just goes to a different school ,” she said.

“I also benefit. It’s made our friendship sustainable. I appreciate it. ”

“It doesn’t make me lame that I’m not busy every single second of every day?” I asked, even though I kind of was. I didn’t feel as busy, but I had plans or the option of something to do most evenings.

“No,” Iris said as she dunked her hand into the bowl of popcorn that was sitting in my lap. “It’s refreshing.”

“That feels like a—”

“Shh, it’s tip-off,” Iris said and sat up straighter. She slapped my hand on my thigh to silence me, nearly knocking over the popcorn bowl in the process.

I bit back a laugh and settled back into the couch. I was nervous watching the game—partially for Theo because I wanted her to win, but also partially because it felt so strange watching her on TV. It felt like an invasion, like this was what would give away that I had a crush on her.

But then again, Theo had been the one who’d texted me just before the game, Bummer you’re not here to flirt with me after the game, now I don’t have a way to make the girls jealous, so maybe it wasn’t just me fighting off feelings.

I responded back quickly with, Don’t worry, the real fans know about me . I hadn’t heard back yet, probably because she was busy preparing for a nationally televised basketball game.

The photo of me touching Theo’s arms had, somewhat surprisingly, caught on online.

The primary fan page that had been following her through her career—given the uncreative but still sweet name of Theo McCall Central —had even given it some attention.

They usually kept their updates strictly about basketball, but the Theo McCall fans were hungry for whatever they could get.

It was obvious how charmed everyone was by how her easygoing attitude contrasted with the competitive, borderline mean edge on the court.

I couldn’t blame them for it; I was feeling exactly the same way.

Surprisingly, however, was that it seemed like fans were starting to piece together who I was.

It made sense—Lakeside Green was a large university, but it wasn’t so large that no one would be able to place me.

A couple of people had responded to posts about Theo and her mysterious lady-friend with comments about how they were pretty sure they’d seen me in their psychology classes or a freshman year math class.

One girl I knew from parties at The 151 responded, oh shit, that’s Maya!

!! which was a consequence to my actions I stupidly hadn’t anticipated.

It was one thing for my face to be everywhere, but my actual name—which would inevitably show up in a Google search conducted by potential graduate school admissions committees—was something else.

“Oh, shit,” Iris sat forward on the couch, her eyes glued to the screen. I blinked, bringing myself back to reality.

“Arlington with the ball. Number twenty-two hurrying down the court,” the announcer said.

“And Arlington is good?”

“Pretty good. They had a really good run, like, five years ago, and haven’t really been able to get back into the swing of things, but they have a new coach, so we’ll see.

” She looked over at me. “Your girlfriend is going to be fine. It should be an easy win. She’ll definitely get some flashy plays in.

I think the media attention is boosting her confidence on the court in a good way. ”

“Not my girl—”

Iris waved me off and pointed to the screen.

I did my best to stay quiet while watching, trying to piece together the times that Iris groaned or cheered with what was happening on screen. She did the best she could with explaining everything, but if she tried to break it down for me play-by-play, she would be talking from start to finish.

Every single time Theo flashed on screen, I felt a tug in my chest. I didn’t get to see her up close during the games usually; she was kept at a distance, running up and down the court, blocked by other players.

But on TV, she was right there. They’d zoom in on her periodically or show a replay. Her celebratory yell after landing a shot—one that had Iris literally jumping up from the couch—was shown on the screen repeatedly before commercial breaks.

“I can’t believe she’s on TV,” I said. “Like, that’s the same person who’s been on this couch.”

“How do you think I feel?” Iris asked good-naturedly.

“I’ve been watching her play since freshman year.

I’ve watched her go from niche celebrity status to like…

kind of legitimately famous in the basketball community.

People are really starting to pay attention, not just to her but to the sport as a whole.

Viewer numbers are up all around the country. It’s so ex citing.”

“And she’s just hanging out on your couch,” I teased. “Maybe I should start saying that she’s your girlfriend. It feels more appropriate.”

“I can only name her stats; you’ve actually had conversations with her,” Iris said. “And while I can admit she’s hot, she’s not exactly my type.”

“Yeah, you want Mr. Basketball.”

“Oh, that is the worst nickname you could’ve possibly come up with for him. He deserves better than that.”

“It’s not my fault—you won’t even give me his first name!” Iris shook her head, miming locking her lips and throwing away the key.

“I’ll figure it out eventually,” I teased and Iris shrugged in response before stuffing her mouth with more popcorn.