Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
ALEX
“Ithink I like basketball games more than football,” Eli said as he slurped on a blue raspberry slushy.
Slight jealousy was clear in the look his boyfriend gave him from the side. “Why? Are basketball players more attractive to you than football players?”
Eli, Javier, and I, trying to get as close to the game as possible, sat near the court while the arena’s cold air blew. Since they’d never gone to a game and I often went solo, I invited the couple to join me.
Eli, with pursed lips, pinched Javier’s cheek similarly to how a grandmother would treat her grandchild. “You know I only have eyes for you, Javi.”
From behind, Javier received a forceful slap on his shoulder.
Directly behind us sat his sister, Gabriela, and beside her was Elias’ brother, Easton.
The two had tagged along for the game—Gabriela after pestering Javier about being bored at the house, and Easton after telling Eli he wanted to “meet hot chicks” and couldn’t do so effectively at home.
According to him, girls only came to the games to scope out guys.
“You two are so cute!” she squealed.
“More like insufferable,” Easton grumbled. Noticing the pointed looks he was receiving, he raised his hands in defense. “It’s cute and all, but lovey-dovey shit makes me want to gag.”
With furrowed brows, Gabriela rolled her eyes at Easton, then crossed her legs and leaned in towards Javier and Eli.
Easton then shrugged, clearly puzzled, while the others criticized his bluntness.
I let them hash that out while my eyes scanned the shiny courts for the only reason I attended the game.
There he was, toned legs, eyes of concentration, and a smile that could knock me out from pure charm. River was perfectly positioned to shoot, having just received the pass. Knees bent, arms angled, he rose onto the balls of his feet and let the ball soar through the air toward the net.
Silence washed over the arena, save for the sound of my four companions bickering, who were anything but focused on the game. I gripped my seat as the ball bounced around the rim of the net.
And then it went in.
The crowd roared with cheers, and the athletes began a brief celebratory dance before locking in again. I watched River’s body jolt as Carson slapped him roughly on the back, as athletes do. River barely acknowledged it because his eyes were too busy looking over the crowd.
When his eyes finally locked with mine, his lips curled upward. The surrounding players had already resumed the game, but River took the time to make it known that he saw me by sending a wink my way.
My hand moved in an awkward wave, like the idiot I was. Beneath me, a girl was doing the same, her cheeks flushed pink with delight. I almost tapped her on the shoulder to let her know that wasn’t for her.
Eli’s eyes darted from the court to me. “I saw that.”
A smile spread across my face. Gabriela, feeling out of the loop, took a closer look at me. Then, she gasped. “You’re wearing his jersey.”
I glanced down at the scarlet jersey that hung down to my ankles as I sat with my legs to my chest. Smack dab in the middle was a large number nine, outlined in black to let the number truly stand out. It matched the jersey of my best friend, who moved with ease on the court.
It was his wish, so I had to wear it. How good a person would I be if I denied him the wish he won fair and square?
I ignored the fact that I wanted to show off his number the way people show off a brand-new pair of designer sneakers. Of everyone here, I was the one with it on, and no one could take that away from me.
Our players maneuvered around the opposing team, maintaining a forceful dribble, which excited the crowd, prompting them to roar. Showing off, he leaned down and bounced the ball between his legs. A lean guy approached him, but #2 passed the ball to River just in time.
River knew it was coming before it even left his teammate’s hands, and he caught the ball effortlessly and then advanced toward the goal.
March Madness qualification hinged on this game, so the stakes were high, and the other team being as strong as we were didn’t do us any favors.
The score proved it—neck and neck, the other side up by three with only five seconds left.
With the clock bleeding out, River bent his knees and aimed for the net. The stadium hushed—or maybe it was just me holding my breath. Most likely that.
However, before he released the ball, a burly player collided with him. The players crashed to the ground, and a smack filled the air as the ball went out of bounds, causing me to jump to my feet and crane my neck over the crowd. River wasn’t small, but the dude outweighed him two to one.
The referee’s whistle shrieked as teammates rushed to help each other up. River brushed off his shoulder, his head held high. Though the way he ground his teeth together as he walked it off told me it wasn’t painless.
“They don’t always play that roughly, do they?” Eli asked, still slurping on the now-empty slushy.
Javier rubbed his chin. “I think it was an accident.”
“That was no accident,” Easton muttered. “Trust me, I know intentional aggressive playing when I see it. If you notice, the team’s been getting all kinds of fouls all game. They play dirty.”
“Of course you spotted it,” Gabriela said, her tone condescendingly sweet.
“Gabi,” her brother warned in a low tone. Though Easton was unfazed by her words, he merely shrugged.
Gabriela parted her lips to fire back another insult, but decided against it. “Anyway, at least River gets a free-throw out of it.”
Thinking back on it, the ref had blown the whistle more times than usual in this game. Our team had gotten many free throws, which I think suggested foul play. Maybe I’d understand better if I actually paid attention to the game, and not just River.
River’s shot went smoothly through the hoop, and the crowd cheered.
He walked with nonchalance in each step, and I had to refrain from rolling my eyes at the cockiness.
Acting like you’re so incredible that you’re not even surprised your shots go in the net only works when you’re as attractive as River.
When the fourth quarter hit, River got some time on the bench. I could see him twisting his body, attempting to be inconspicuous as he reached for his shoulder and winced ever so slightly. Carson whispered something to River, possibly a reprimand, and got a scowl in return.
Gabriela’s loud declaration about Eli’s brother and the smell of weed seized my focus, and I watched as he attempted to quiet her before others became aware.
She wasn’t wrong; he did reek of weed, but I wasn’t going to point it out.
The bickering lasted so long that when I refocused on the game, River was on the court again.
I felt like my mother every time she watched me handle the stove between the ages of ten and fifteen—teeth-chattering nervous. River shrugged away the pain, clearly thinking he was hiding it well. He wasn’t, at least not to me.
The ball was passed from person to person, and the opposing team intercepted at one point and made a basket. River kept pace with the game, but the way he lagged when without the ball gave him away.
Eventually, Carson got the ball back, his abnormal height giving him the advantage as always. He scanned the court on his way up and locked onto River.
The ball flew across the court, hurling toward River with immense spin that only a seasoned player could put onto it. An opponent dove to intercept and ended up flat on his face. I bit back a snicker.
But the humor vanished when the same guy who had slammed into River earlier appeared out of nowhere with arms stretched wide, attempting to block the pass. Their shoulders collided, and this time, only my best friend hit the floor.
River was on the floor, clutching his shoulder, his eyes tightly shut while he fought to stop himself from yelling. The large screen displayed him straining, and the cameraman paused before recognizing the gravity of the situation, prompting him to stop filming.
Everything around me slowed, and suddenly I was on my feet and gawking down at the court. I watched apprehensively as medics rushed to him, equipment in hand.
Before I knew what I was doing, my feet were maneuvering through the bleachers to figure out a way onto the court.
My heart throbbed in my ears while my vision tunneled as I ran, and suddenly I felt like I was ten years old all over again, rushing toward River after he twisted his ankle while practicing.
I was halfway down the stairs when someone grabbed my arm. I didn’t bother looking back while I tried to tug away, but when they yanked me backward, I spun around with irritation.
Javier gripped my arm so tight I was afraid it’d leave a mark. “Alex, hold on a minute. You can’t go onto the court.”
“What if he broke his arm? He needs me.” I was shouting, but I couldn’t bring myself to care about the dozens of eyes on me. His fingernails scratched me when I jerked away.
The pounding in my chest had turned into ringing in my ears, and I was more than willing to knock down everyone in my way to get to River. Was he dying? Probably not, but it was killing me not being by his side. He didn’t have his parents, but he had me.
Eli tried to chip in, but I was rushing down the stairs like a madman before he could get it out.
I shoved through the crowd of prying fans wanting to see the commotion on the court, and I nearly froze when I saw the closed gate and half-wall blocking me from the court.
Luckily, I was somewhat athletic, so I jumped over it, but barely managed to land on my feet rather than flat on my ass.
Amidst the medics and teammates scattered around, River was visible, crippled in pain. They surrounded him like bodyguards, obstructing my view of him, and standing on my tiptoes wasn’t helping since everyone was as tall as skyscrapers.
I felt a hand grip my shoulder, and when I turned, I was face-to-face with the referee’s black-and-white uniform.
“You can’t be on this court, kid,” the ref said, his tone void of emotion.
I was debating whether to plant my feet stubbornly in detest against being pulled away, or to comply so that I didn’t get in trouble with the school for interfering with the game, when a strained voice sounded.
“Let him stay.”
The attention from everyone on the court that was once directed at River was now on me.
Actually, everyone in the stadium was looking at me, and I doubted it was simply because I was insane enough to force my way onto the court.
But all fears vanished the moment my eyes fell on the guy I could never get out of my mind. Despite his squinting and pained expression, he tried to offer me a smile.
As everyone moved out of the way, I immediately went to him. I knelt to his height, my knees hitting the floor, and brought my hand to his face, where I stroked his cheek, feeling his sweat on my skin. His jersey was creased in some spots but smooth in others, and he coddled his arm.
“Are you alright?” I asked, panting.
River’s back was being supported by a medic who was careful not to touch his hurt shoulder. “Could be better, but it’s only my shoulder. I can’t believe you just ran through all of those people.”
“I had to make sure you were okay. That jerk kept running into you.” Remembering the douchebag who played dirty, my eyes scanned the opposing players to glare at him. “Who the hell plays like that?”
Now it was his turn to cup my cheek. “Don’t worry about that.”
“This is your last chance to make it to March Madness! He did that on purpose, Riv.”
“I know.” He tried to sit up, but winced in pain. “This is probably a sprain. I’ll be fine in two weeks.”
I ran a shaky hand through my hair. “You’re always angry when someone wrongs me, but when they do it to you, it’s whatever? Bullshit. Where did he go? If no one else is gonna do anything then I sure fuc—”
My words fell short when soft lips connected with mine, and I could’ve melted into a puddle right then and there. Shit, now I felt like I was the one who had just played a full game of basketball. Who turned up the heat in the stadium?
There was a split second of a pause before he kissed me, saying, “Tell me to stop” without having to speak it aloud. It was safe to say there would never be a time when I did.
A few magical seconds later, I pulled away from the kiss carefully, fearful of hurting his shoulder more. With a tender smile, he moved his uninjured hand along my arm until it met and held my own.
My best friend just kissed me in front of an arena full of people.
They gasped, but it didn’t matter. I would worry over it eventually, but I wanted to ride out the high I felt from this for as long as possible.
Other medics on standby had arrived to help River off to wherever they were taking him. While they did, his eyes never wavered from mine, as if my presence was the only medical attention he needed.
It reminded me of when I broke my arm on the swing set in fourth grade. After River spent years encouraging me to swing high despite my mother’s disapproval, I finally fell off.
While I sobbed, the class bombarded me with questions, and the teachers frantically searched for aid. My only source of comfort was River, who sat silently beside me, my hand clasped between his warm ones, as he shooed our nosy classmates and waited for the adults to make a proper move.
Now, I got to be the one there for him.