Don’t Let Go

27. Tyler

27

Tyler

Three days ago, I kissed Rory. Actually, she kissed me. We sat in silence on the way home that night. She inched her hand close to mine, and her pinky brushed my skin. I wanted to kiss her, but she had this distance about her. It was almost like she wasn’t there if you looked into her eyes. She was lost in her thoughts.

We got home, and she unlocked the door and went straight to her room. I wanted to talk more. I wanted to talk about Paolo, why he brought up my deceased parents, why he threatened Rory’s family like that, and why he was doing drug deals. What else was he involved in? He mentioned his powerful grandfather, and Rory said her mother’s career could withstand whatever Paolo threw at them. What the hell did all that mean? Was I looking at this all wrong?

The bottom line was that Rory was single now, but I wasn’t sure how to ask her out. She kissed me, yes. She seemed to like me, yes. She opened up to me when we’d talk late at night on the window ledge, yes. Yet I felt like she was hiding something from me. Maybe it was too soon to do anything since her break up with Paolo was still fresh. Besides, if she rejected me being in the same house with her would be extremely awkward.

Tonight, we had an away game in Gilbert, so we were able to leave after lunch and skip our last two classes. I sat on the bus next to James. Christian and Bryce sat in the seat in front of us.

James smacked my back. He had this giant smile on his face like he was drugged by the Joker. “I’m so glad you’re on this team. You’re going to take us to the top!”

I nodded. “Hell yeah. I’m glad you guys wanted me. To be honest, not being able to play basketball made everything so much harder. Basketball was always a release for me. You know?”

Christian sat on the edge of the seat. He turned around and rested his arms on the back of his seat, looking at James and me. “Thomas was a good player, but the way you play.” He whistled. “I’m just thankful you’re on our team when we face Lincoln.”

It felt like someone stabbed me with a hot poker through the gut. “We’re going against Lincoln?” I hoped my voice didn’t reflect how much my insides were shaking. I haven't had time to imagine a game where my new world collided with my old one.

James hit my arm. “You’re as white as a ghost. We need to beat the Gilbert Rattlesnakes first.” James leaned forward and pushed Christian, making him almost tumble into the bus aisle. “Don’t scare the guy. We need his head in the game. If we lose because you scared him, I’m going to beat your ass.”

Christian saved himself and leaned against the back of the chair again, reaching for James to smack his head. “I’m not scared of you.”

The speakers above us crackled alive. “Sit down! Keep your butts in the seats,” the bus driver ordered.

Bryce snickered as Christian turned and sunk back into the ugly brown leather seat. “Shut up,” Christian hissed.

I shook my head and looked out the window. We were on the highway. There was nothing to see but cars, buildings flying by, and the desert landscape. Someone got fancy and made a coyote out of rocks. Why decorate the sides of the highway? Was it for the people who got stuck in traffic to admire?

James nudged me with his arm, taking me out of my ludicrous thoughts about desert artwork. “Ty, don’t worry about Lincoln. Just think about Gilbert and how we need to crush them to get to the championships.”

I licked my lips and clasped my hands together. “Will do. I won’t let you down.”

“Good. We’re here.” He nodded out the window to the high school parking lot we were turning into.

“Here we go,” I said under my breath.

We were at halftime, and we were up by six points. I jogged into the locker room and grabbed a fresh towel to dry the sweat from my brow. My phone blinked, letting me know I had a text. I sat on the bench as my fellow teammates talked around me excitedly as I read the message sent hours ago.

Good luck! Go show your Mustang pride!

I smiled, scratching my nose as I thought of a reply.

Thank you! It’s not the same looking into the stands and not seeing you in the band.

James whipped his towel in my direction. “Hey man, you’re doing great. Your free throws are on fire!”

Christian hit my arm as he walked by. “Totally. We need to keep this up and we’ll have this game in the bag for sure.”

“Then it’s off to the championships against Lin—” James punched Bryce in the gut, making him shut up. “Ouch! You dick.”

“I told you not to freak out, Ty!” James shook his head and hit my shoulder. “Sorry, man. Just focus on one game at a time.”

Ice chilled my veins when the thought of playing against Quincy and the rest of the guys came to mind. They were my team. They looked up to me. They were my family for almost my entire high school career.

I pressed my lips together, shoved my forefinger and thumb into my eyes, and rubbed them too hard. “Yeah. Don’t worry about me.”

We all pounded fists, and Bryce blasted rap music to get us all psyched to get back on the court.

My phone’s screen lit up. I got another message.

Is the game over yet?

No. We’re at halftime and we’re winning so far. Fingers crossed. Why?

Nevermind.

My gut twisted. There was something wrong.

What’s up? Tell me.

I don’t want to worry you.

I’m already worried. Spill!

I’m sorry. I need a ride. It’s not a big deal. Forget it.

I can order you a rideshare from my phone. Where are you?

I’m a magnet for bad things. Just forget it. I’ll figure it out. Win that game!

Rory, please!

She didn’t reply.

James tapped my shoulder. “Everything okay?”

I ran a hand through my hair. “I don’t know. Au—” I looked over and saw Paolo talking to Christopher. I didn’t want him to go off knowing I was talking to Rory.

“Nothing. I’m good.”

“Awesome. Coach has some words for us before we go back out there.” He motioned for me to follow him out of the locker room and into the hallway.

Please let Rory be okay. Paolo was here, so what could she be afraid of? Did he hire someone to hurt her?

The coach’s pep talk flew into one ear and out the other. His words didn’t make sense because Paolo stood across from me. We were staring each other down. My hands shook from seething. It didn’t matter if what was going on with Rory was Paolo’s doing or not. He still deserved an ass-whipping for countless other misdeeds.

James nudged me. “You okay?”

I nodded, realizing the meeting concluded and everyone left for the court to finish the game. “I’m fine,” I finally answered, jogging to catch up with the others.

James tagged along. He gave me a quizzical look but didn’t say more.

No matter how many times Paolo was open, I refused to throw him the ball. Others could pass to him with no problem, as for me, I wanted to beat his head in with the basketball. He had to have something to do with Rory acting all cagey, and now I’m finishing this game instead of helping her.

For the fifth time, Paolo waved his arms wildly for me to pass. I bounced the basketball between my hands and took a stab at throwing the ball midway from the basket to score some points.

I made the shot!

We were up by twelve points and only five minutes left in the game. The rest of the time was spent playing defense. The other team never had a chance. We kept stealing their ball.

When the game ended, everyone cheered, and we all bumped fists. Paolo came at me like a dog with a bone. He was almost salivating with all the anger built up inside.

“I’m going to kill you!” Paolo shouted, trying to reach me, but the team filed around me.

Christian pushed Paolo back. “We won! Can’t you be happy?”

“Happy? That dick never gave me the ball. I might as well be riding the bench.” Paolo pointed at me. The hate in his eyes said he would love to wrap his hands around my neck and choke me to death.

I swallowed, rubbing my Adam’s apple that ached at the thought. “We won. Do the details matter?” I said, keeping a good three yards between Paolo and me.

His eyes turned to slits. “I’m going to beat the living shit out of you,” he seethed, trying to push past Christian.

James gently pushed Paolo back, and that was a huge mistake. Paolo punched James squarely in the jaw, and he fell to his knees. We were all in shock when James collapsed, cradling the side of his face.

Paolo charged for me when a whistle blew behind me. Our coach shook his head. “What the hell is the matter with ya? I leave you boys alone for one minute, and you’re at each other’s throats. What’s going on?”

Paolo pointed at me. “Tyler never passed me the ball. He’s a glory hound, and he—”

Coach stopped listening when he saw James’ bloody face. “What happened, son?” he asked, kneeling to examine the damage.

James sniffed, then winced, spitting out blood. “Paolo happened.”

Coach grasped his clipboard; I’m surprised the wood didn’t crack with the force of his hands. “Paolo, I’m tired of your crap. You need to get your act together.”

“But Coach. Tyler is the—”

Coach got in Paolo’s face, looking him dead in the eye. “I don’t want to hear it. We’ll talk about this when we get back. Now everyone get their ass on the bus.”

Paolo had my murder and burial site all planned out when he looked at me with dead eyes, almost shark eyes, with how white and distant they were.

I grabbed my gym bag and sat next to the window with Christian beside me on the bus. Everyone talked excitedly about our win. I tried to join in here and there, but I could feel the tingle of coldness coming from Paolo’s glare. He wanted revenge, and he'd find a way to serve it to me one way or another.

I sunk into the ugly leather seat and stared out the window as buildings and cars whizzed by. I reached out to Rory, but she wasn’t answering. I didn’t regret what I did. I’d fight Paolo if push came to shove. He needed to be kicked around a little after everything, especially how he treated Rory.

Rory. I wished she’d answer my damn texts. I prayed she was okay. Why did I have to be in the middle of a game when she seemed to need me the most? I rubbed my eyes and eased back into my seat, controlling my breathing.

She had to be okay. She just had to be.