Wild Cards
Page 29
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“The bagel wasn’t a consolation prize, Ashtyn,” he argues. He shoves his hands into his pockets. “It was breakfast. I was trying to get things back to normal.”
“Normal? Nothing in my life is normal, Derek. But if you want me to fake it, then fine. I’m good at faking shit.” I hold my hands over my heart. “Thank you so much for the bagel,” I say in a fake sweet voice. “I’ll go choke it down right now so you can feel like everything is normal.”
I turn on my heel and walk back to the car. I have nowhere else to go and can’t escape, so I might as well resign myself to the fact that I’m stuck with Derek until we get to Texas.
After we eat in tense silence and I’m done with the bagel, I hold up the empty wrapper. “Satisfied?”
“Not even close,” he says stoically.
He drives me to a field when I tell him I need to get some practice time in. I stretch out and kick my practice balls while Derek leans against his car, texting. He doesn’t offer to help retrieve the balls. Every once in a while he glances my way, but for the most part he couldn’t care less about football or helping me. He’s got his stupid phone held up to his face until I tell him I’m ready to head out.
I drive part of the way while Derek sleeps. When we switch back, I lean my head against the window and fall asleep.
“Ashtyn,” Derek’s deep voice wakes me up. “We’re here.”
I open my eyes, blurry from sleep. Derek gently shakes me again. I blink a few times to focus and notice that Derek is looking down at me with beautiful blue eyes he doesn’t deserve. It’s not fair that he has those eyes, because they confuse girls—confuse me.
Derek pulls up to the front entrance of Elite. My heart starts racing. This is it, everything I’ve been waiting for. Scouts will be here, taking back information to their coaches about who they believe are the best players to recruit. I look around and realize I’m the only girl.
A crowd of parents and teens are scattered across the lawn. Some are in the check-in line and others are laughing and joking around as if they’ve known each other for years.
Derek puts on a baseball cap and sunglasses. He reminds me of a movie star who doesn’t want to be noticed.
He helps grab my luggage. “You gonna be okay?”
I don’t look him in the eye. “I’ll be fine.”
“Listen, I would stay and wait until you get settled, but . . .” He glances at the football players milling around, then pushes the baseball cap farther over his eyes. “I’m gonna head over to my grandmother’s place and see what’s up with her.”
“That’s fine.” I grab my bags out of his grip. “I guess I’ll see you in a week.”
He lets out a sigh. “I guess so.”
It doesn’t escape my mind that he hasn’t touched me since we were in the tent. We’re not arguing like usual, or interacting at all really. We’re just . . . existing. He gives me a small smile.
“Bye, Derek.”
“Bye.” When I start walking away, he takes my elbow and urges me back. “Have fun. Kick some ass and show ’em what you got. You can do this, you know.”
“Thanks.”
“Listen, Ashtyn, I don’t know what to say. Last night—”
I don’t want to hear him say sorry again, so I cut him off. “It’s okay. Just leave.”
He nods slowly. I want to call him back as he gets in his car, to tell him that I need to make things right between us, but I don’t. I can’t. I told him to love me for one night, and he couldn’t.
I watch as Derek’s car drives away and disappears as it turns the corner. Whether I like it or not, I’m on my own.
I straighten my shoulders and move to the end of the check-in line. I’m aware of a couple of stares from players and some parents. I’m a girl playing a boy’s sport, and while my team has gotten used to having a female teammate, some guys don’t believe girls should play football. They think we’re too fragile. I just have to keep my head held high and act like I belong here as much as they do.
Derek’s words echo in my head: You can do this.
A couple of guys in front of me nudge each other, urging their friends to gawk at the lone girl in line. One turns to me and says, “Yo, cheerleading camp is down the block. You’re obviously lost.”
His friends laugh.
I push my duffel farther up on my shoulder. “I’m in the right line.” I cock an eyebrow. “You sure you’re in the right line?”
“Oh, I’m sure, baby.”
I’m about to say some comment back to him when the guy at the registration table calls out, “Next!” and waves me over. “Name?”
I clear my throat. “Ashtyn Parker.”
The guy scans me up and down. “You’re the girl.”
“Yep.” The guy’s a genius.
He hands me a new backpack, a water bottle, and a folder all with the Elite Football logo. “This has your schedule for the week and the key to your dorm room. Uniforms will be given out before practice tomorrow. Make sure you wear your name tag at all times,” he says, slapping a sticker with my name on it on my T-shirt. He places the sticker awkwardly by my neck because he’s obviously uncomfortable placing it anywhere near my chest like all the other players. “Cafeteria is on the first floor of the dorms, right by the lounge.”
“Okay.”
As I walk away, one of the coaches calls me over. “Welcome to Elite, Ashtyn,” he says. “I’m Coach Bennett, the special teams coach. I’ll be working with you this week.”
I shake his hand. “I’m glad to be here, Coach. Thanks for the opportunity.”
“In case you didn’t know, you’re the only female in the program. Since there are no showers designated for women, the showers for the rest of the players will be closed from five to five forty-five a.m. and seven to seven forty-five p.m. so you can have privacy.”
“Got it.”
“One more thing,” he says. “We won’t tolerate sexual harassment of any kind. If you feel harassed at any time, inform me or anyone else on staff. That being said, I hope you have a thick skin. Boys will be boys. Don’t jump the gun, if you know what I mean.”
After the harassment talk, I head to the dorm and find my room at the end of the hall. All the guys have roommates, but I’ve got a single. I drop my bags on the floor and sit on the edge of my bed. There’s a small closet, a window, a twin bed, and a desk. It’s basic, but it’s clean and spider-free. And no Derek. I’ve gotten used to having him around and hearing his voice. Even now, I miss him.
It doesn’t take long for me to put my stuff away. If I were a different girl, I’d sit in my room and hide until tomorrow, when the program officially starts. Instead, I head for the lounge to meet the guys I’m going to be playing with for the next week. I catch sight of Landon sitting with a couple of guys on one of the couches. I don’t have any emotion besides a desire to show him and everyone else here that I’m competitive and I’m here to prove it.
No way I’m letting Landon think I’m intimidated. I’m captain of my team back home and represent them as well. This isn’t just about me. I stand right in front of him. “Hi, Landon.”
He glances at me, gives me a pathetic mumbling “Hi,” then goes back to talking to the guys without introducing me. It’s obvious he doesn’t want me sitting with him, so I find an empty chair on the other side of the lounge. I try to start a conversation with a couple of the guys sitting around me. They give short answers, then walk away like I’m contagious or something.
I’m walking back to my room when I overhear a bunch of guys talking with their door open. If they were my teammates, I’d be sitting with them. I’m an outsider in unfamiliar territory. Why be timid now, when I know being a loner won’t do me any good on the field tomorrow?
I straighten and am about to walk in the room to introduce myself when I hear a guy say, “Did you see that chick in line this morning?”
Another guy gives a short laugh. “That dude McKnight told me she got in the program so they can have a token female. The girl is delusional enough to think she belongs here.”
“She better not be on my team,” one guy says.
The other guys express similar opinions and suddenly I’m not in the mood to make friends.
I rush to my room and throw myself on my bed. Normally I’d be ready to challenge the guys, to show I’m not intimidated by their lack of enthusiasm of having to play with a girl. Right now I don’t feeling like proving myself and feel totally defeated.
For the first time since I got voted captain, I don’t feel like one.
Chapter 41
Derek
I look up at the motorized gate that slowly opens after I announce my arrival over the intercom. Some people would be impressed by my grandmother’s massive estate, but I’m not into flaunting money or status. This house does both.
I park my car in the circular drive and look up at the tall pillars flanking the oversize front door. I’m sweating, and it’s not from the morning sun beating down on me. Meeting my grandmother on her own turf is like facing an unknown team in a playoff game. You can’t really prepare effectively for the game and you’re anxious until it’s over.
A guy wearing a black suit and a serious expression is at the entrance waiting for me. “You with the Secret Service?” I ask, trying to lighten the situation.
He doesn’t seem amused. “Follow me.”
I’m led into the house. The place is filled with high ceilings and large corridors, reminding me of those fancy cribs showcased on television. The staircase is polished metal, and the furniture is overstuffed and likely overpriced, too. The guy in the suit stops in front of a room overlooking the swimming pool in the backyard. It’s filled with white furniture and purple cushions. It’s completely feminine and over-the-top. I wonder if Ashtyn would like it or prefer her lived-in, old furniture back home.
I wanted to stay with her this morning until she was settled in the dorm. That was before I saw a few guys who would have definitely recognized me. I wanted to tell her about my past, but what good would it do? Saying nothing and booking out of there before anyone recognized me was the easy way out and I took it.
I’m looking out the window at the big pool in the backyard, wishing Ashtyn were here with me, when I hear someone come into the room. I turn around and recognize my grandmother right away. She’s wearing a stark white suit, her hair is all poofed up, and her makeup is overdone. I’m taken aback that she’s tan and looks like she just came from a vacation instead of the hospital.
She holds her head high like a queen when approaching her subjects as she walks up to me with her arms outstretched. “Aren’t you going to say hello to your grandmother?”
“Hello, Grandmother,” I say with a deadpan expression. I don’t mask the fact that I’m not her biggest fan, but at least I don’t flinch when she walks closer and gives me one of those fake air kisses.