“Do you want a repeat of last year?” He asked, repeating the same words my mother tended to. Carson loved to quote her.
He liked to make last year out to be worse than it was. My grades slipped, but they weren’t terrible, and it didn’t happenonlybecause I skipped class. He knew that better than anyone because he went through it all with me.
But none of that mattered anymore because if I wanted to stay on this team, I had to keep the grades up. They did not have to be outstanding, but they did have to be passing. My sports management degree was a priority, even with basketball.
Car and I met our sophomore year of high school. He quickly became my closest friend since Alex, and when some shit went down with his family, my parents took him in. After graduation, we knew we had to stick together. When I received the offer to transfer to Lone Star State University—LSSU—for basketball, I advocated for him to come too.
I found a bag of chips and tore it open. “I don’t see you in class right now.”
“Because it doesn’t start for another three hours,” he deadpanned. “You do not want to have to repeat classes, River. You know I’m talking from experience.”
Carson had to retake calculus twice, and he was currently taking it for the third time.
I had yet to fail a course, always somehow managing to pull out a passing grade by the skin of my teeth. Part of me wished I could forget about school and only play basketball, but that would mean I’d have to go pro. As great as it sounded, it was a dream far out of reach. On top of that, it would have stopped me from using my degree, which I didn't want since I truly enjoyed what I studied.
The moment I learned to walk, my dad had shoved a basketball in my hands. Ever since then, he and Mom were constantly in my ear, coaching me to play like a pro and eventually to get a full ride to college. Lucky for them, I loved basketball just as much as my father did.
They were thrilled when I got my first scholarship. They had dreamed of the moment ever since I was a kid, and I pulled it off. Add to the fact that Carson also got a scholarship? They were over the moon—so excited that they threw us a party and invited the entire family.
I yanked my chips away from him. “Yes, I need to do well so that I can get my degree and work a nine-to-five until I die. So exciting. Absolutely cannot wait.”
“You can’t do that if you flunk all of your classes and get kicked off the team. You need to focus, man.” Then, his tone softened. “Professors aren’t going to go easy on you this year. I’m surprised they did last year, considering?—”
I raised my hand. “I get what you mean.”
He half frowned, but didn’t say any more.
Crumpling up the chip bag, I turned to the trash, aimed, and tossed it in. A smirk full of pride pulled at my lips as the bag fell right into the trash. Car rolled his eyes, but his own smile told me he couldn’t deny how smooth that was.
Not acknowledging my skills, Carson said, “Salem asked if we wanted to go out to the courts later.”
I stared blankly. “Who is Salem?”
His eyes narrowed in disbelief. “We’ve been on the team for a month and have gone to courts with him. You know exactly who Salem is.”
All the faces of my teammates were like a mushy blend in my mind—undecipherable and unintelligible. I had yet to bond with them, just like I had yet to bond with any of my classmates. If a person didn’t pique my interest, then they quickly became an afterthought.
It was the reason I ever talked to Alex in the first place. I found him interesting. I’d always noticed him around school, but he liked to play alone while my friends wanted to play in the field. I found it odd; dozens of kids played together each day, yet Alex always swung on the swings by himself.
It took me a week before I got the courage to go up to him the day we met. He was so comfortable being by himself, and that intimidated me. As an only child, I was always alone, so I surrounded myself with friends at school.
Eventually, I realized Alex didn’t enjoy his loneliness as much as I assumed. When I saw him agreeing to let the bully of the school play with his game, I knew I had to step in. Wesley wasn’t going to like him for him, but I was.
Carson’s lips pressed together judgementally as he waited for it to click in my brain. Finally, the somewhat grumpy dude with the buzz cut popped into my thoughts. Huh, no wonder it took me so long to recognize that name. Lately, I only ever knew Salem as "Alex's roommate."
I shrugged. “Nah, we can’t.”
“Wecan’t?”
I slapped my hand onto his shoulder. “Nope. We, my friend, got invited to hang out with some teammates and cheerleaders. You wanna go?”
Carson ran a hand through his hair. “It’s the middle of the week, and there’s a party?”
He hated parties. He called them slimy breeding grounds for STDs and drunk driving, so every party I had gotten him to go to came from coercion. This, however, was not a party. Technically.
“It’s not a party. It’s a get-together.”
With his arms folded across his chest, Carson gave me a dull look. I shrugged in an innocent way that asked, ‘What?’ I wasn’t lying. Lola said it was around ten of our teammates and five of hers. They apparently got together often, and it was always a low-key thing.
