Rebound (Pro-U Book 3) (5 page)

Chapter 8

Natasha

The look on Micah's face when I lifted up with Deja's help and dunked the ball was so far beyond priceless. I couldn't remember too many other times in my life that felt as good as having him lock eyes with me and laugh until he cried. I dropped down to the floor and gave various team members high-fives as the announcer tried to gain control of the crowd and failed miserably.

Why in the world they didn't have Dr. Barrington start out the festivities with his speech was beyond me. It would have been quiet and everyone would have been chill, but now, the place was a madhouse.

"Hey. Good job, you tricky thing." Micah turned me and smiled down at me as he held onto my forearm.

"How's the hand?" I glanced down to see that his wrap was gone. "All better?"

"Not yet, but I'm almost there. A little more rehab and I should be good to go." His eyes moved across my face, leaving me struggling to catch my breath. He was insanely beautiful, his big green eyes filled with excitement and his dark hair was curled at the edges and wet with sweat.

"And yet you still dunked it like a champ." I pulled my hand from his slowly and crossed my arms over my chest as Dr. Barrington's voice filled up the arena.

"You going to the after party?" He moved up beside me and pressed his shoulder against mine as we turned our attention toward the podium they rolled in.

"I'm not sure yet." I glanced up at him as butterflies danced around my stomach and lodged themselves in my chest.

"I hope you do." He pushed at my shoulder with his and smiled before nodding toward Dr. Barrington. "Pay attention. Set the example."

I snorted. "This coming from the guy that just mimicked the girl’s routine. Great example."

"Made you smile, didn't it?"

"Yeah." I nodded and couldn't help but cheese it up a little more. "It sure did."

"Student, faculty, players, family and friends. It's with great honor that I get to say an opening prayer over these kiddos and over this opening season. We're excited here at Providence University, and I know for a fact that this is going to be our best playing season ever. Everyone in the administration is proud of you guys and knows that you'll not only go on to do great things within your chosen athletic paths, but in your career paths as well."

My heart was racing, and I wasn't sure if I'd overdone it with my routine or if having Micah so close made it hard to get ahold of myself, but either way... I was struggling to calm down.

"Before we begin, let's make sure to keep Dr. Delilah McCraven in our prayers and our thoughts. She's been out for a little less than a month undergoing some personal things and I know her dance team misses her. We taped the performance tonight and will make sure she gets a copy of it."

My stomach turned sour as I shifted to my left and caught a glimpse of Aubrey. The sadness on her face left me questioning what the hell was going on with my mother. Where we didn't get along in the slightest, I would never have wished ill on her.

"What's going on with your mom?" Micah leaned down to line up our vision.

"I don't know. We don't talk." I moved past him. "Excuse me."

"Tasha," he called after me softly, but I ignored him.

My mother hadn't been at Providence for a month? What the fuck was going on? Why hadn't she just been straight forward with me and told me that something was wrong? I didn't wanna deal with her during the summer when she wanted to talk and now I was being punished. This was the way it worked with her. It always had.

Fear turned into anger by the time I reached Aubrey.

"Can we talk?" I stopped in front of her as she gave me a sad smile and nodded toward the locker room.

"You bet. Let's go in there?"

"Yeah, sure." I moved through the crowd as the president of the university prayed over the teams and their success. Seemed like a stupid waste of time to pray for a basketball team to bring home the championship, but maybe I was a little jaded. "What's going on? You know I don't talk with my mom very often."

"I wish I knew." She sat down on the bench beside her and pulled at her tights. "She hasn't been in class for a month, and the associate professor we have sucks ass. I've been going behind her and redoing most of the routines. I wanted to ask you what was going on, but you don't seem to like the subject very much, and I didn't want to-"

"You don't know shit about what my mother put me through."

"I can only imagine." Aubrey stood and lifted her hands. "My mother is my worst enemy, so to say I understand would be an understatement."

"Whatever." I turned on my heel and walked toward the exit.

"Tasha. I'm not sure why you're upset with me, but I'm not the bad guy here."

"Who is?" I turned around as tears filled my eyes. "Me for not wanting to dance my fucking life away? Her for hating my father? You for being her favorite?"

"Natasha. That's not-"

"Save it." I turned and walked down the long hall that would lead to the exit. Aubrey didn't deserve my shit, but I had very little control over my anger at that point. Everything seemed to be closing in around me and where most people had a friend to reach out to and lean on. I had no one.

"And whose fucking fault is that?" I walked down the short path to the parking lot and got into my car, started it and pulled out without looking back. I didn't want anyone to come after me, least of all, perfect Aubrey Moore.

*

The large iron gate in front of my mother’s large house opened slowly as I typed in the code she'd let me pick when I was ten and we moved into the nice neighborhood. She'd finally gotten the job at Providence and our lives were changed for the better, or so it seemed.

Anxiety reared its ugly head deep inside of me, and by the time I parked the car in the circle drive, I was hyperventilating.

"Stop it," I cried out and closed my eyes, letting my head fall back against the seat and trying to pull myself together. Why was this such a big deal? She was my mom. So we had our differences. So she didn't appreciate my choice in college to follow after my father's footsteps and play college ball. So she didn't understand me in the slightest.

She was still my mother and something was wrong. I'd never known her to
ever
miss work. She lived for her stupid job, or calling, as she would refer to it.

I got out of the car and took in slow, deep breaths through my nose as I gripped the side of the door. There was nothing she could tell me that I couldn't handle. If she was sick, I would help out. If something happened to my grandmother, I would help her figure it out. I hated her on so many levels for some of the shit she'd pulled when I needed her most back in high school, but I could move past that. I was reserved and withdrawn, but I wasn't a cold-hearted bitch. My feelings for Micah reminded me of that if nothing else.

"You got this. Stop being a baby and see what the hell is going on." I closed the door to the car and walked toward the front door on shaky legs. Glancing down, I let out a growl. I should have changed clothes. Coming to her house still dressed in my basketball outfit was as good as spitting in her face. She hated my father and anything that reminded her of him... namely me.

I knocked a few times and started to pace around the small space in front of the door. After realizing that she wasn't going to come to the door, I tried the handle to find it locked.

"Why is nothing easy? Fuck." I grumbled a few more curse words and walked around to the back door, popping the lock on the fence that protected the backyard from God knows what. I moved to the back patio and stopped by the back door as the flood light illuminated around me and filled up the backyard.

I could barely make out her form as she sat in her favorite chair, the TV light the only light in the room with her. She was slumped over and wrapped up in a blanket that was far too big for the time of year.

"How are you cold?" I tried the handle and found it locked. "Of course."

After lifting to my toes and getting the key, I carefully unlocked the door, put the key back in the exact spot it was supposed to be in and crept into the house. The smell of cherry and pine filled my senses and took me back to a childhood I didn't want to remember.

All we had was each other and yet it was never enough.

I let out a soft sigh and walked into the living room. The chair across from her was empty, but as I made my way to it, I realized something was all over the floor around her? Hair?

"What the fuck?" I whispered and bent down, wondering if she got a dog after I left and just didn't say anything. I gathered up large clumps of hair and realized quickly whose it was. Hers. "Mom?"

She jerked up and pulled her blanket close as I stood and let the hair fall from my fingers.

"Mom. What the hell is going on?" I moved around to face her and took a step back.

"Go away. I'm fine. I'll get through this like I get through everything else." Her voice was nothing more than a hoarse whisper. Fuck me if my eyes didn't fill with tears.

"What's going on? I'm not going anywhere until you tell me where you've been." I glanced down at the floor around her. "Did you shave your head? Are you sick?"

"Can you just get me a glass of water?" She coughed softly, and I realized how pale she was. My mother had never been anything but a pillar of strength, an elitist with a scowl on her face and condemnation on her tongue.

"Of course." I turned and walked to the kitchen, wiping at my eyes and trying to pull myself together. Something was terribly wrong, but I wasn't sure what. Cancer? Did she have cancer and she hadn't said anything? Surely not. What else would cause her hair to fall out?

I poured a quick glass of water and figured I would talk to my grandmother if nothing else. She wasn't exactly fond of me either, but at least we were still talking.

"Do you need anything else?" I handed her the water and had to help her take a drink due to her fingers not gripping the cup. She had little to no strength.

"No. You can go now. Thanks for the help." She closed her eyes and let out a sigh that sounded like death had already settled into her chest.

"Mom. I'm not-"

"I don't need your help. I called you when I did and you didn't come. Get out."

"That's not fair." Tears blurred my vision again. "I'm here now."

"And why are you here, Natasha? Come to watch me die? Is that why you're here? The word finally spread across the school that my tumor was malignant and they can't operate on it? Is everyone throwing a fucking party over it?" Her voice broke as she pulled the blanket up to hide her face. The sobs coming from her ripped my heart open in ways I didn't think possible.

"No, Mom. They're all praying for you. I figured-"

"Well, you figured wrong. Get out!"

I jolted backward at the anger in her voice. I was doing more harm than good standing there upsetting her.

"Call if you need me." I wiped at my tears as my own voice lost all strength.

"I won't. Don't worry."

I nodded and walked for the door, grateful I made it outside before the first sob left me. I couldn't remember being more scared in my entire life. My mother was going to die alone because of the choices I'd made in the past. She wouldn't let me near her.

I wasn't sure if the roles were reversed that I would have acted any different.

Chapter 9

Micah

"What's got your attention today? You're staring off into space like you didn't get a wink of sleep last night. What gives, dude?" Dillon tapped the table in front of me, pulling me from my thoughts.

"What? Oh, sorry man. I slept fine. I'm just worried about Tasha. She was upset last night at the pep rally and she got away before I could check on her." I shrugged and brushed my hand down my shirt as Jacob walked toward our table with a large pizza.

"You guys save some of this shit for me." He set it on the table and smiled. "I put extra pepperonis on it for you guys. Don't tell the old man."

I laughed. "You work here and you can't get lunch? What the hell?"

"I could, but I'm trying to appear grown up." He rolled his shoulders and glanced back toward the kitchen. "Save me a couple of pieces."

"Fuck that. Just get your own." I pushed at his chest and reached for a piece. My stomach screamed in protest as I lifted it to my lips and burnt the hell out of my mouth. I didn't let the pain stop me for a second.

"What? Really?" Jacob turned back toward us and smirked. "All right. I'll get you assholes back for not showing the love."

"You can have some of my half." Dillon gave Jacob a nod and turned back to me.

"Pussy," I mumbled around my pizza and groaned as the delicious flavors rolled over my tongue.

"I love pussy." Dillon leaned back in his seat and fanned the piece of pizza he had sitting on his plate.

"You and me both." Jacob grabbed Dillon's plate and put another piece on it before turning and walking back to the kitchen with it.

"Hey. I need a plate." Dillon huffed and got up to follow Jacob toward the kitchen.

Goofs. All of them. I pulled out my phone and checked it for the hundredth time, for what, I had no clue. I waved Emily over as she moved back from seating an older couple. How she and Jacob got anything done working at DeAngelos together was beyond me. They couldn't keep their hands off each other any other time, but it seemed like she had him on lock-down at work. I was impressed.

"Hey you." I nodded toward the pizza. "You want some?"

"No, I'm on the clock."

"So is your boyfriend, but he just took half the damn thing to the back with him."

Dillon slid into the booth across from me and grumbled, "Yeah, part of my half."

She laughed and glanced over her shoulder. "He'll do whatever you let him do. That's for sure."

"TMI." I took another bite of my pizza and sat back in my seat. "Have you heard from Tasha? You still staying with her at the Wayland Dorms?"

"I stay with her off and on, but I've been out at the house the last week or so. Jacob is struggling with his history class, and I aced it last semester."

"How is he taking a junior-level history class?" Dillon lifted his pizza toward his mouth and blew on it several times.

"That's going to be cold if you don't come on and eat it already." I smiled as he flipped me off and shoved half the piece of pizza into his mouth.

"Better?" he mumbled around it.

"Much." I turned my attention back to Em. "How is she? She was upset last night when she left the pep rally."

"She's okay. She's got a lot on her plate right now, and I'm sure you know this, but she's a really private person. She doesn't even share much with me." Emily picked up my soda glass and smiled. "Let me refill this for you. If she calls, I'll tell her to give you a call."

"No, that's all right. Just give me her number and I'll call her myself."

"I'll see if she's okay with that." She turned and walked toward the kitchen.

"Why is Tasha so withdrawn? Something happen to her when she was little?" Dillon folded his pizza in half and took another big bite.

"No clue. I wish I knew." I took the soda from Emily and tilted my head to the side. "It's me, by the way. You know I wouldn't do anything with her number but check on her."

"I know." She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and studied me as if trying to decide if I was really the guy she thought me to be.

"We've been friends for three years. Hello."

"Right. Okay. Give me your phone, but if she gets pissed-"

"It's all on me." I handed her my phone and glanced back across the table to Dillon.

"Come swimming with me. It's a great workout, and I think you'll love it." He finished his pizza and reached for a napkin as sauce dripped down the side of his face.

"I love to swim." Emily piped in and handed me the phone back. "Not sure Jacob would be good with me joining you guys, so have fun, and don't hurt my friend. Got it?"

She narrowed her eyes, and I didn't have the heart to tell her she was far more cute than intimidating.

"Yes, Ma'am. Never in a million years. I promise." I lifted my hand in the Boy Scout sign. "Scout’s honor."

"Were you a scout?" Dillon piped up.

"Nope." I winked at Emily as she huffed and walked off, mumbling something about all men being cut from the same cloth.

"Then it doesn't work. Duh, man." He rolled his eyes and picked up another piece. "I'm serious about you coming to the pool with me. It's a great work out."

"I appreciate the offer, but I'm not interested. Me and water don't get along too well." I shrugged and turned my attention up to the TV screen above my head. I was going to call and check on Tasha the minute I got rid of Dillon. I liked the guy, but something told me that the pretty girl who played through my thoughts all the time needed a friend.

I wanted to be that friend.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Dillon snorted. "You take showers and drink water, right? How do you and water not get along? That's lame, by the way."

"My sister drowned while I was watching her at home when she was seven. That's why I don't want anything to do with water. All right?"

His eyes grew wide, and I felt like a complete dick for using shock value to slap him in the face. It wasn't his fault that I was terrified of big bodies of water. Losing Lyndsay and having it be my fault had ruined a large part of my childhood and still tried hard to pull me down into a depression I wasn't sure I could get out of. If my parents weren't involved much before my sister’s death, they sure as hell weren't involved now. It was a punishment of sorts for them to have to see me, or that's how it felt. I hadn't seen them since Christmas the previous year. Not a card or a phone call... nothing.

I reminded them too much of her.

"I am so sorry, Micah. I didn't mean to-"

"No. I'm sorry. I'm just worried about Tasha. I shouldn't have unleashed that shit on you."

"Were you lying? Like scout’s honor type shit or-"

"No, my little sister really drowned while I was supposed to be watching her." I glanced down at my plate and let out a long sigh. "I'd rather not talk about that shit though."

"Yeah, totally, dude. I'm sorry I even brought it up."

"It's all good." I took a few bites of my pizza, trying to swallow the sadness that always seemed to sit at the edge of my world, waiting for the opportunity to sweep in and pull me down.

"I'm not trying to shit on your parade seeing that I already messed up the mood, but I'm good friends with Sharon on the basketball team. I'm pretty sure Natasha isn't the dating type."

"You just got here. How the hell would you know that?" I smiled and pushed my plate away. My appetite was gone.

"Girls like to talk a lot, and Sharon is in my English class. She yaps like nobody’s business, and she mentioned that you and Natasha would be a cute couple, but that Tasha doesn't date. Like, ever." He shrugged and pointed to the pizza. "You good with me finishing that?"

"Yeah. Go for it." I rolled my eyes and ran my fingers through my hair. "Tasha might not date now, but that doesn't mean she's going to be that way forever."

"Right, but why waste your time on someone you know isn't interested in dating? That would suck."

"So who are you dating?" I leaned in a little, trying to get my point across.

"No one. I've only seen one girl on this whole fucking campus that leaves me aching for commitment, and she's an ice princess. A total bitch." He snorted and folded another piece of pizza in half.

"And who's that?" I glanced up at the TV as a live report took over the golf tournament that was showing. The coverage was over something at Providence, but I couldn't hear what.

"Clara Russell." He turned to look up at the TV too. "Shit... that's here."

"Yeah, go grab the channel changer from Emily and turn it up." I turned to get a better view of the TV. My stomach tightened as Coach Billows, the head athletic director, came on the screen, his complexion pale and his eyes downcast.

Had someone died?

Dillon walked toward me and turned toward the TV as he lifted the remote. The sound finally came in, the news disturbing and yet not nearly as bad as I'd expected it to be.

"We're not releasing too much information at this time, but we will begin investigating some of the allegations that were released to the press last night." Coach Billows nodded as if the interview was over.

The reporter, a perky blond woman with big blue eyes and fake tits smiled at the camera. "Right, and those allegations pointed to one of the beloved athletic coaches at Providence being wrapped up in a scandal related to misappropriation of school funds and scholarship dollars. The coach’s name is not being released yet until all investigations are concluded."

"Exactly. We would appreciate everyone's support during this time and ask if you have any additional information regarding Providence that you start with your coach, your dean or someone in administration." Coach Billows narrowed his eyes at the camera.

"Wow." I turned back toward Dillon as he dropped down in the seat across from me. "That's some shit right there. Who do you think it is?"

"No clue, but I would imagine as they’re investigating, we're going to figure it out pretty quickly." He lowered the volume on the TV and pushed his plate away. "While we're on the subject of assholes, I'm about ninety-nine percent sure that Darren is our guy. He picked a fight last night after you went to bed and was ranting and raving about Jacob running the house into the ground. Some of the guys were agreeing with him, but I got in his face and he shut the fuck up."

"Let's set his ass up."

"I like that idea, but we have to be careful. The rest of the house is going to be extremely leery of anyone who sets up another brother. Just don't let them know it's us and we'll be fine."

"You don't think the rest of the house would be happy to get the troublemaker out before they fucking close us down?"

"Maybe, but you know how people feel about snitches. Snitches get stitches, man."

I laughed. "That's fucking stupid, and I'm starting to think maybe you are too."

"Harsh." He reached for his pizza. "My appetite is back. You gonna drink any more of your soda?"

"Yeah. Get you a refill and stop mooching." I pulled out my phone and got out of the booth to walk toward the front door. "I'll be right back."

"All right. Don't leave me with the bill."

"You got this. I have faith in you." I walked out into the sunny Saturday afternoon and pressed my back to the brick wall behind me. Nerves tore up my insides and I felt like a fifteen-year-old kid again trying to talk to a girl. "Just text her, you idiot. Shit."