Beauty and the Baller

She rubs her ring, her eyes darting to Ronan, who’s plopped down in a puffy chaise chair next to my side of the bed. Sparky walks on the back of the chair, then jumps down from Ronan’s shoulder and curls in his lap. Ronan gives him a dark look but doesn’t move him. “Weird-ass cat.”

“Is Coach going to stay?” Sabine asks.

I look at him.

He pets Sparky. “I’ll leave if it bothers you, Sabine.”

“It doesn’t,” she says. “I like you all right. Just don’t snore, ’kay?”

A smile flits over his face as he leans his head back on the cushion. “Got it.”

My limbs grow heavy as I relax into the cool cotton sheets. “Crawl in behind me,” I tell my sister.

“Can we sing?” she asks.

“Absolutely.”

“Dolly?”

“Who else?” I reply.

“‘Islands in the Stream’ or ‘Here You Come Again’?”

“You decide,” I say.

Wearing her shorts and a baggy shirt, she crawls in behind me, wrapping her arms around my middle. I clutch her hand, threading our fingers together as her voice croons “Here You Come Again.” I sing the chorus with her.

“I’m never leaving you,” I tell her, my voice groggy. She snuggles closer.

My eyes meet Ronan’s across the shadowy room. He hasn’t taken them off me.

Go home, I mouth.

He shakes his head. No.

I sigh, and before I can think of what else to say, exhaustion and sleep tug me under.

Later, I don’t know when, I feel hands on my head, the brush of his lips against my forehead, and then I’m back in dreamland, in a place where Ronan isn’t afraid to love . . .

Chapter 19

NOVA

“I don’t see why we can’t strut out to ‘We Are the Champions,’ rip some practice jerseys off, do a roar, punch our chests, then do a body roll,” Bruno says. He demonstrates by rolling his torso, then running his hand down his chest to his groin. “Am I right? The crowd will go nuts!”

Several football players nod and elbow each other, laughing.

“And I’ll be fired. You will not touch your privates, Bruno. Am I clear?” I rub my forehead. We’re in my room, the desks pushed to the side as we work on the pep rally for the Huddersfield game next week. No one can agree on a song or what to do.

He grins. “It might start a riot anyway.”

“Technically, you aren’t champions yet,” Sabine says from the floor, where she and Toby sit working on a poster that says FREE LAMBERT!

Toby looks up. “True that. We don’t want to jinx ourselves.”

“If you’re stuck on Queen, a better song would be ‘We Will Rock You.’ The beat is bloody great,” Sonia says as she eats her salad next to me.

“We did ‘We Will Rock You’ last year,” Milo says. “Might be bad luck.”

The players nod. Superstition and bad luck are a real thing in football. Since we lost to them last year, we must do everything different this time.

“What about ‘Eye of the Tiger’?” another player says as he chows down on a sandwich.

“We aren’t tigers. We’re Bobcats,” Bruno mutters. “There is a difference.”

Leaning against a desk, I run a hand through my hair, twisting it up with a rubber band into a messy bun. It’s important they make decisions themselves. They weren’t given much leeway before with Melinda, and I want them to feel as if they’re creating something that’s all theirs.

“We need a routine, y’all! Something lit!” Bruno says to them as he faces his team and lifts his hands up. “Hit me with the ideas!”

“A line dance?” Milo offers. “I can boot scoot and boogie. Granny taught me.”

“I’m not wearing cowboy boots,” Bruno says. “Texas isn’t a stereotype.”

“It’s early November. Maybe dress up like turkeys? Flap some wings, then do the chicken dance,” a player says.

Bruno heaves out an exhale. “Whoever said that . . . what the fu—heck no!”

“The Macarena?” another player says. “It’s fun.”

“No,” Bruno says and crosses his arms. “I’m in charge of this, and it has to be right!”

“It’s important to listen to everyone’s ideas,” I remind him.

“I like the Carlton or the ‘Y.M.C.A.’ Old school,” Sonia offers.

“Eh, I don’t know,” Bruno says, scrubbing his face. “We want them foaming at the mouth for us. Toby, you’re our captain. Thoughts?”

Toby is currently laughing at something Sabine is saying. After I supercleaned the house from the Great Lice Debacle, they had their first date. We had pasta and watched Clueless. He’s been over to do homework a few times. I met his mom when the four of us got together at the bookstore and had dinner.

She’s not allowed to be alone with him. I’ve told her she must wait until she’s sixteen. My own love life is the pits, but when it comes to Sabine, I’m doing what Mama would want. Protect her. Guide her.

Feeling all eyes on him, Toby glances up. “Oh. Um, I’m not really a dancer, but maybe a country song? We could walk around and pump our fists. Maybe lip-synch?”