“Today’s the first day,” Sheila says, popping the stick of gum into her mouth. “We’ll pass out some jerseys and autographed photos. They’ll want to get pictures, some with us, but mostly with the basketball player.”
“Basketball player?” I ask. “I thought we were standing in for the basketball players.”
“They found someone to come in to cover this week,” Torrie says. “Not sure who. It’ll be pretty laidback this first day. He’ll work on a few fundamentals, some simple drills, and then some role model stuff.”
“At least that’s how it’s gone before,” Shelia adds.
Sylvia enters the room before I can probe further. She splits a smile between the three of us and greets us warmly.
“Thank you, ladies, for being here today.” She eyes me nervously, maybe because of how much Caleb resisted me coming. “The kids are in for a real treat. One of the most popular players of the game today will be here all week.”
“Who is it?” I
ask idly, not really caring.
“It’s me,” a familiar voice reaches across the room and snares my full attention.
All the air leaves the room, leaves my lungs. My heart is a boom of thunder, and lightning streaks through my veins. Just like at the basketball game, and like every time I’ve seen him, I can’t ignore him; I can’t take my eyes off August West standing in the doorway.
I only allow myself a second of shock before the danger of this situation crystallizes as a stone in my belly. I have no idea what this will drive Caleb to do if he finds out. If Ramone sees, he’s sure to tell.
Self-preservation has me on my feet. Wisdom has me brushing past August without looking him in the eye. Desperation has me doing what Caleb’s lies and brutality keep me from doing every day.
I run.
26
August
“Iris!” I call after her retreating back. She doesn’t pause or even glance over her shoulder.
I’ll be damned if she’s leaving without at least talking to me. My legs are much longer than hers, so I ignore the pain and take two stretched steps to catch her.
“Hey.” I take her elbow, firm, but gentle, and turn her to face me, one hand on her arm, one hand at her waist. “Iris, wait.”
When I dip my head to line up our eyes, I don’t think about the titanium pin holding the tendons and bones of my leg together. The dull ache in my knee and the long weeks I’ve been immobilized and frustrated—it all fades. I don’t consider the months of grueling rehab ahead. I’ve been worried I won’t be full strength when I return next season, maybe ever again, but right now I can’t think beyond this mesmerizing moment. All those things pale and dry up, diminished by the woman in front of me. Even though I know Caleb did this because of her, right now it doesn’t matter.
Just like at the Stingers game and at All-Star weekend, like the night we met, we don’t look away. That thread that draws us in and close every time we’re together shrinks the space separating us, even though we don’t move an inch. A hundred missed moments and a thousand never-spoken words pass between us, and everything held rigid and tight in her body, in her face, softens as she leans closer.
The squeak of tennis shoes on the gym floor in the distance punctures the moment, and we both blink. I absorb the surroundings, which had folded into the background. She shakes her head and pulls away.
“Why are you here, August?” Iris asks. Her brown eyes, flecked with autumn, green and gold, seem darker than the last time I saw her. It’s not the color. Something behind them. Something inside is darker. Dulled.
“I’m volunteering,” I answer.
“And it’s a coincidence? That we’re volunteering here the same week?”
“Yeah, it is.”
Her eyes search mine, seemingly not satisfied with my answer.
“Okay, I did know you’d be here,” I admit, but speak quickly before she jumps to conclusions. “But I didn’t arrange it. I told the league from the beginning I wanted to volunteer some locally, here where I grew up, not just in my team’s town. My mom’s house isn’t far. I balled here all the time when I was a kid.”
She studies me, the long lashes unblinking, before nodding. “I’ll leave then.”
She moves away, but I catch her, holding her in place. Eyes on my fingers around her wrist, she flinches and sucks in a sharp breath.
My hand looks huge wrapped around the delicate bones of her wrist.