A Game Worth Watching (28 page)

Instead
of a patient, loving mother, Emma remembered a woman who fought constantly with
her husband about money, about having too many kids, about all life had to
offer and all she had missed. She remembered a woman who always needed time for
herself, who sacrificed moments to hug her children because her clothes would
wrinkle. A woman who talked too much about the world beyond, and not enough
about the world within, the walls of home. Emma didn’t need confirmation from
Lance to know these new memories of her mom were the real ones, and the ones
she had held onto for so long had merely been her attempts to fill in the
blanks with a mom she wished she’d had because it was easier than remembering
the truth.

Emma
squeezed her eyes shut. Lance had been right after all. If he’d been right
about their mom, maybe he was right about everything.

She
started dribbling. Right hand, left hand, trying to ward off the thoughts she
knew she couldn’t stop. A couple dribbles turned into a few more until she
zigged and zagged, spinning around the torrent of questions swarming around
her. Where was her mom? Did she ever think about Emma or her brothers, or had
she started over with a clean slate when she left, never looking back? Would
she recognize Emma if they passed on the street? Did Lance truly hate her or
was he still dealing with the demons of his past? Did her dad really want her
gone? Was Riley’s friendship merely an act of pity? They were questions Emma
would never ask even if given the chance; afraid she wouldn’t like the answers
she’d hear.

All
of the fear, pain, and loss she’d experienced molded into an invisible
opponent. She dribbled, her sorrow flaring into anger. With the ball, she
pounded out thoughts of her mom, filling the emptiness inside her. An emptiness
only ever filled by basketball. Alone on the court, with a ball in her hands,
Emma tasted freedom. Freedom from the limitation and doubt reminding her she
wasn’t strong enough or good enough or smart enough. On the court, she was flawless.

She
played against her invisible defenders, allowing herself to dream about
district playoffs and the slim chance Bradshaw had of competing. Was it wrong
if she wanted it?

Shaking
her head, she spun away from the basket. Sure, she could dream and conjure up
the impossible, but what would happen when reality replaced the false image? A
life where good things happened wasn’t meant for her. She knew it, her family
knew it, the entire world knew it, so why did she continue to hope and wish she
could slip through the cracks into a new life, a different life? A life that
would never be hers. Basketball scholarships given to poor kids who couldn’t go
to college without them were probably far and few between. Emma didn’t know if
she was good enough to get one, or if she even wanted one. Lance was right; she
was worthless. But, for some crazy reason, she still hoped. It was this hope
she played on.

Sweat
poured down her face and her breathing came in ragged gasps as she jabbed,
spun, drove, and shot, playing against so much more than a cross-town rival.
She sprinted the length of the court, twisting and turning with the ball,
leaving her defenders behind. She loved to drive to the basket, split the
defense, and wrap beneath the basket to fight for a shot, but there was
something special about pulling up at the three-point line, firing off a shot,
and watching the ball take its journey to the basket and fall through the net.

She
went for the three.

The
ball swished the net and then bounced on the floor once, twice, then faster and
faster until it rolled to a stop. She expected silence to follow.

“I
do love to watch you play.”

Emma
spun toward the voice. Riley leaned against the wall, his arms and legs crossed
nonchalantly as he watched her.

She
swiped her arm across her forehead to smear drops of sweat away from her eyes.
“What are you doing here?”

He
seemed unfazed by the caution in her voice. She’d spent the last week living in
his house, but they hadn’t spent any real quality time together digesting her
confrontation with Lance or developing a game plan of what to do next. Most of
the time she remained quiet, and although he gave her silence, he was always
the same old Riley. Always there, always protecting, always worrying about her.

“Looking
for you.”

Emma
didn’t respond. She didn’t know how he’d snuck in undetected or how long he had
watched her, but she should’ve figured he would come sooner or later.

“You’ve
been quiet lately,” he said.

Now
was not the time for this conversation. She wasn’t ready yet. She was still
stuck in last week trying to process everything. Emma retrieved the ball and
dribbled back onto the court, squaring up to the basket. “Have I?”

“Yeah,”
he said as she released the ball into the air. They watched it drop through the
net. “Even to me.”

Emma
didn’t want to explain herself. She didn’t want to admit how Lance’s words
still played like a broken record through her head, how the look in her dad’s
eyes still burned behind her closed eyelids, or how she continued to question
the sincerity of Riley’s friendship.

He
looked at her, head tilted to the side, eyebrows raised. “Want to tell me why?”

Persistence.
When it came to her, patience was not his strongest quality. “There’s nothing
to tell,” she said. “I just haven’t had anything to say.” Which was true. Even
though a million thoughts swarmed in her head, she refused to try and find the
words to vocalize them.

He
pushed off the wall and walked toward her. “Come on, Em. Talk to me.”

“About
what?”

“About
what’s going on with you.” His voice rose in volume as frustration fought to
have a presence.

She
slammed the ball on the ground. “Nothing’s going on with me.”

“Really?”
He knew something. His tone indicated he had given her the opportunity to come
clean and be honest with him, knowing she was holding something back, but she
wouldn’t budge. There was nothing she wanted to share with him—nothing
she would share with him.

“Yes,
really,” she confirmed.

He
nodded, not agreeing with her. “Then explain to me why you cancelled practices
with Ashley, Shiloh, and Peyton.”

Emma
tensed. “How did you know about that?” She’d done her best to hide it from him,
knowing he wouldn’t approve. Teaching girls how to play basketball wasn’t
number one on her priority list at the moment.

“Ashley
came to me and asked what was wrong with you. She said you’re just going
through the motions at practice, and you cancelled your time with them
completely.” He held his hands out to the side in a manner to say he lacked
answers. “Since you haven’t talked to me, I didn’t know what to say. I told her
you needed space.”

Why
did it seem like the whole world was in her business? First Coach, then Ashley,
and now Riley. Was there a line forming of others? “It’s nothing.”

He
stood in front of her, arms crossed, eyes burning holes in her. “If it was
nothing, you wouldn’t be skipping classes too.”

“Are
you spying on me now?” she said, matching the hardness in his tone. Skipping
classes was a completely normal and healthy behavior for a high school senior,
especially one who had no future.

“If
that’s what you want to call it,” he said. “Or you could consider it as me being
worried about you.”

“I
don’t need your worry. I’m fine.” She turned away, yearning for nothing more
than the silence to cage her again. It was better to be plunged into a life of
bad memories than to make new ones with the one person she couldn’t stand to
lose. She didn’t want his pity or his concern. She wanted his friendship
unattached by obligation.

“Fine,”
he repeated.

“Yes,
fine,” she emphasized.

“No,
you’re not fine. You’ve worked too hard and come too far to give up now just
because of those stupid things your brother said.”

She
spun around to face him, her hands balled into fists, her face burning as she
let the words fly. “Tell me one thing he said that wasn’t true. No matter what
I do, I will always be worthless.”

Riley
took two strides toward her. He secured her head between his hands, making sure
she couldn’t look away. “That is not true,” he said firmly. “You’re smart and
beautiful and strong and—”

Her
chest tightened with every word he said. She broke free from his grasp, tears
spilling from her eyes. “Then why did my mom leave?” she choked out. “Why does
my own dad hate me?”

“He
doesn’t hate—”

“Don’t,”
she said, shaking her head and swallowing tears. She didn’t need him to lie and
paint a pretty picture of her pitiful life to spare her feelings. She wasn’t a
kid anymore. “You heard what Lance said, and you saw the look in my dad’s eyes.
You don’t know what it’s like to look at their faces every day and know they
despise you. You don’t know how it feels to be left by your mom—the one
person who’s supposed to love you unconditionally. You don’t know what it’s
like to have to be protected by your best friend because no one else cares
about you.” She released a shaky breath of defeat, her body two seconds away
from collapsing. “I’m tired of being your charity case.”

“When
are you going to get it?” he said, his voice firm and steady. “No matter what
people say, you’re not my charity case. I don’t pity you. I care about you.
There’s a difference.”

She
wanted to believe him. She wanted to know their friendship was real, but how
could he be the only person who didn’t hate her? “How do I know you’re not just
saying that because you’re a nice guy?”

His
eyes softened. “Because no matter what’s happened, I’ve never left you.”

“But
you will,” she said, unable to mask the hurt in her tone or the tears in her
eyes. She wished only the best for Riley, but she couldn’t help thinking about
what life would be like for her when he left. “At the end of the year, you’ll
leave me, just like my mom did, when you go off to college.”

He
shook his head. “No,” he said softly. “Not even then.”

It
wasn’t what he said, but how he said it. He left no room for doubt, and the
genuineness of his words caused fresh tears to fall from her eyes. Her dad and
brothers may not have left her physically, but they’d abandoned her in every
other way the day her mom walked out. Riley hadn’t. She didn’t have an excuse
not to believe him this time.

“I
don’t want to be like her,” Emma said, her voice small and pleading. “I don’t
want to go off to college and leave my family because I think I deserve better
than them. I can’t—” Her words choked off into sobs.

Riley’s
face twisted in pain as he watched her. For once, he couldn’t whip up an answer
to sweep all the injustice away. He reached for her. She didn’t have the
strength to resist him, so she slumped against him, needing his strength and
his friendship to remain standing. She buried her face in his chest and cried.
Every dream she’d ever had of finding her mom, of gaining her father’s love
again, of breaking the chains holding her to a life of limitation, shattered.
She refused to follow in her mom’s footsteps, refused to cause her family more
pain, even if it meant living in the garage for the rest of her life.

Riley
held her, letting her shed too many years of pent-up tears. He tightened his
arms around her, holding her together—always holding her together. When
her mom left, when kids teased her at school, when her brothers took their
anger out on her, it had always been Riley who held her together.

Even
after her sobs subsided, his arms remained locked around her. Never in her life
had she imagined having a total meltdown and crying like a girl in front of
Riley or anyone else. If it had been Tom instead of Riley, he would have teased
her. Jerry would have cracked a joke, never believing his superstar had tears to
cry, and her dad and brothers would have ignored her, not knowing or caring
what they could do to help.

After
a while, Riley slipped out of his coat and secured it around her shoulders.
Wiping tears from her cheeks, he pressed his lips to her forehead. “Let’s go.”
He grabbed her bag from the sidelines and slid his arm around her waist to
secure her at his side as they made their way across the gym to the exit. The
door opened seconds before they reached it, and Ashley appeared before them.

“Hi,
guys,” she said breathlessly. “I just forgot my—” She stopped when she
saw Emma’s puffy eyes and tear-streaked face.

Her
eyes widened; her brow wrinkled. “Are you okay?”

“She’s
fine,” Riley assured her, tightening his arm around Emma’s waist. “She just
hates it when I beat her at basketball.”

Despite
how miserable she felt, Emma smiled. “You wish.”

He
chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “See you later, kid.”

Ashley’s
faint, “Bye,” slipped through as the door closed behind them.

Emma
stared out the window as Riley drove through the darkened streets toward his
house. For the past week, Emma had done everything she could just to keep
herself together. Now she was just tired. Riley didn’t say much. He stared out
the windshield at the road ahead, one hand on the steering wheel, the other
clasping hers. He glanced at her every once in a while to make sure she didn’t
jump from the jeep and roll away.

They
drove by her house, and she couldn’t help but look. Through the front window
she saw her dad and brothers watching TV together like they did almost every
night. They laughed at whatever show they were watching—laughed like for
once everything was right in the world. Emma’s breath caught in her throat. She
turned away, knowing her family didn’t miss her absence—they preferred
it.

She
felt pressure on her hand and glanced up to see Riley smile at her. “It’ll be
okay,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I promise.”