Perfectly Messy (22 page)

“If I could do what you do up there, I’d never give it up.”

“Marissa, I don’t play basketball for the attention.”

“I know. It’s not that. You love it. You’re passionate about it. I’m not passionate about anything but myself and that landed me topless, posing for stupid guys, and plastered all over Tumblr. Somewhere between June and now, I lost myself. I claim to be a photographer? I quit yearbook class. I don’t even know how it happened…”

Is she trying to relate to me? “The photos of me were fake, Marissa.”

She laughs lightly. “Lucy, you wouldn’t even change your bra in front of me. There’s no way the photos of you and Justin are real. I’m not saying you’re a skank. I’m saying I am.”

“Okay?” What is she getting at here? I pull on sweats over my shorts.

“Don’t give up what you love for anyone. You’ve made it through an entire season before with a team who hated you. You can make it through one more game with a few people in the stands who don’t respect you. Who cares what people think? Your friends know they are fake, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then go play. Don’t let crap stand in your way.”

“I can’t.” I slam my locker shut. “I just can’t.”

“Why? You’re stronger than that. Why do you think I worked so hard to keep you less than me? Keeping you hidden was impossible… Obviously, it didn’t work. Justin saw you for you.”

Justin. Hearing his name is like having a brick thrown against my chest. Why isn’t he here? Sure, I never texted him back. But what was I supposed to say?
I’m fine.
I’m not fine. I can’t even grasp how this happened to us. Just because I didn’t return his text doesn’t mean he shouldn’t be here. He promised he wouldn’t miss the game.

I can’t believe he’s not following through. Do I matter to him? Heat drains from my face. That’s just it—he can’t care about me the way I do for him. Wouldn’t I be higher on the priority list? He should be here, especially after today.

“You’re not playing because Justin’s not here, huh?” Marissa sits down on the bench, crossing her legs.

I gaze up at the ceiling, refusing to meet her eyes.

“Lucy, don’t define yourself by a guy. Trust me, you’ll become less than nothing.” The whistle blows above us, signaling the end of the third quarter. “Go do your thing up there. If Justin doesn’t show, who cares? It’s your thing, not his. Go do it.”

She stands then and leaves, without even a goodbye. I turn back toward my locker, the squeak of the door letting me know I’m finally alone. The back of my knees find the bench and I sit, contemplating the person I’d just met. The real Marissa. Weird. I don’t know if I think she’s mean or honest or… I dunno? The important thing is something extra is tugging at my gut. The truth. Whoa, she’s right. How is it possible the only person making sense to me today is Marissa? I’ve let Justin define me, just like I let Marissa do last year.

I’ve got to get back up there and play. Coach T probably won’t let me back on the court, but I’ve got to try. He owes me. I yank off my sweats down to my shorts and pull my jersey back over my head. If he doesn’t let me on, so be it.

And Justin? Maybe he’s up there now and maybe he isn’t. It doesn’t matter. I’m throwing all of the weight of this lie and Justin’s messed up priorities back onto the court.

The light from the gym blinds me for a second as I yank open the door. I gulp, literally swallowing my pride. Coach T meets me at the end of the bench, hands on his fat hips.

“I want to play.”

“I knew you’d come around.”

“No, I’m not playing because of you. I’m playing for me. Got that?”

“Whatever. Just win.” He calls Kiley off the court right before the ref blows the whistle. “You’re in.”

I step on the court and dart between the opponent’s pass, swiping the ball from the air. I drive toward our basket. Easy lay up. Two points. The other team grabs the ball to toss in from the baseline. There’s no way I’m running all the way back to the other side to wait to defend.

Jaclyn nods to me, understanding my game plan. “PRESS,” she yells. Coach T slams his clipboard on the chair. He only likes to press for the last three minutes of a game but I totally don’t care. We’re doing this our way.

Jaclyn steals the ball after two passes then tosses it to me. Their redhead center is on me so I bounce it back, finding my sweet spot on the three-point line. Hands up and,
smack,
the ball’s back in my hands. Lines aligned in my palm before I let go.

Swish.

Three more.

As I fly down the court, nothing matters anymore but my teammates and the game. The bleachers disappear and the doors don’t exist. Coach T’s shouts fade. Good, glad to get rid of his toxic boom. The only thing taunting me is the scoreboard. But, no matter how hard I fight against it, there’s just not enough time.

Not enough time to repair all of my mistakes from earlier in the game.

The final buzzer rings, solidifying the score. Eighty-seven to seventy-nine. My feet halt at center court. I lost the game. We’re not going to State and the season’s over, all because I momentarily forgot how to be myself. My teammates join me. Jacyln wraps her arm around me.

“I’m sorry, guys.” My head hangs as the noise and the bleachers come back into view. It all crushes in on me. “I’m so sorry. I suck.”

“No,” Jaclyn taps me, “this isn’t your fault. We’ve all had bad days. What do you always say when we attribute a win to you?”

“We win as a team, we lose as a team,” Chelsey says for me. “There’s always next year.”

“But not for some of you,” I say, fully aware of the seniors in the group.

Jacyln and McKenna look at one another. “Honestly, I’m glad it’s over. Coach T’s a nightmare.”

“As evidenced by the fact he just left the gym. The only good thing about the season being over!” Chelsey chimes.

“All right, girls, let’s go congratulate the other team.” Jaclyn puts her hand in the circle and we yell “Eagles!” before breaking away. The gym fills with applause. No one’s yelling slut or booing anymore. They are all cheering for us, louder than the fans of the team who won. Is it possible I imagined that many people cared about the photos? To think I believed I was above caring what people think. I’m just as shallow as before.

We clasp the hands of the new division champs. A blond woman in a blazer hangs out near the baseline, waving me over. My heart skips a beat as I recognize her again, the coach from the University of Minnesota Golden Gophers.

“Quite a game,” she says.

“Yeah,” I sigh, “I…”

“Bad day?”

“You have no idea.” …Oh God. Wait. What if she has an idea?

“We all have bad days. But in the two seasons I’ve followed your playing, I’ve only seen you have one. That’s forgivable.”

“Thanks.”

“Your last quarter was amazing. The stats…Wow.”

“I don’t even remember what happened, honestly.”

“Good, then I won’t throw numbers at you. I don’t like my players having big heads.” She winks. Her players? “Here’s my card. You’re a junior, correct? Give me a call this spring. I’d love to talk to you about a future as a Golden Gopher.”

I gaze at the card in my palm, hesitating like an idiot. “Thanks, I… Wow. Thank you. I’ll definitely give you a call.”

“Good. Keep those grades up.”

“I’ll do that.”

She reaches out and pats my shoulder. “Don’t worry about all the media stuff. One glance at you on the court, and the world will forget it. We’ve got PR reps and stuff. You’re history from today would disappear if you choose us.”

My heart falls through the floor. She knows about the photos and, worse, thinks they are real.

“They’re…” I stop myself. There’s no use telling her they aren’t real. It’ll just look weak, like I’m lying to her. I don’t want that to be her impression of me.

“Never mind,” I say. “Thank you.”

“I look forward to your phone call.” She smiles as she steps away. I watch her walk through the main gym doors, my eyes passing over the south wall where the guys’ basketball team hangs out. Well, everyone on the team but Justin and Alex.

Laura spins me around and I force a smile out, chatting with her and my parents, who are still clueless about the photos.
Thank God
. Eventually, I escape to the empty locker room. Finally alone, the pressure of keeping myself together isn’t so strong. My phone taunts me. No texts from Justin for the last two hours. I debate whether or not I should call Mom to return and pick me up. My gorgeous car waits at home because I’m the idiot who believed her boyfriend would give her a ride.

I drag myself out the back door, pausing at the concrete wall that overlooks the soccer fields below. The only disruption to the night’s darkness is a lone set of headlights coming up the hill. They grow larger, coming closer. The lights flash. Justin?

Justin

My lips press into her apple hair as I hold her. She hasn’t said anything to me yet. “You okay?” I ask her again, rubbing her arms. Her breaths deepen, becoming steadier as she steps away.

“Where were you?” she finally says before her eyes drift from mine, studying the pavement.

“My dad and Paul held me up.”

“Held you up? How?” Her tone has an edge, one I heard last summer a lot when she used to despise me. She’s glaring at me now and I want to just shut down. I’m such an idiot. Why did I think Dad and Paul would be an excuse?

“You missed my game. You promised you’d be here.”

“I…” My palm drifts to my hair. “Listen, I tried.”

“You tried? Don’t tell me that. If you tried, you would have been here.”

“Lucy, it was a mess. I couldn’t just disappear after what happened.”

“You think you were in a mess? I was stuck here. Everyone calling me a slut!”

“Well how was I supposed to know that? You wouldn’t text back.”

“What was I supposed to say? What could I possibly say that would make anything that happened okay?” She covers her nose, turning her back to me. Her breath quickens. My gut sinks. Please, don’t cry. I never imagined she’d be crying because she was mad at me.

I reach out, touching her shoulder. There. That should help. “It’s okay.”

She whirls around. “No, it’s not. It’s not okay. You weren’t here. You don’t know what it feels like to go through a whole day of school like that.”

Her words are harsh and before I know it, I’m throwing some back. “And you don’t know what it’s like having your dad blame you for ruining everything he’s ever worked toward his entire career.”

“Fine.” She picks up her bag, tossing it over her shoulder and begins walking back toward the gym.

No, this is not what I want. I’m better than this. I refuse to be the guy that takes my frustration out on my girlfriend.

“Lucy, I’m sorry I missed your game and wasn’t there for you today.” I carefully turn her around to face me. Her eyes find mine, red, swollen, and smudged with black. Here she is, this incredible person, that my situation as my father’s son crushed. She’d never be in this situation if it wasn’t for me. I failed her, not showing up when she needed me most.

“I made a mistake.” The words are uncomfortable. I’ve always done the right thing. “My priorities got messed up. I should have been here. I should have left the inauguration.”

“No, I wouldn’t have wanted that. You needed to be at the inauguration.” Her voice softens. “I know how hard your family has worked for that. And all the extra hours… No, I wasn’t expecting you to miss that. I just…” she wipes away a streak of black from under her eyes. “I expected you at the game and when you weren’t there, I fell apart.”

“I’m sure you didn’t fall apart.”

“We lost the game, Justin. The season’s done.”

Lost? They had this game in the bag. “Listen,” I extend my arms, hoping she won’t reject me. She steps closer and I quickly pull her into a hug before she changes her mind. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there. But losing a game isn’t your fault. That happens.”

“I know, I just…” She presses her head against my chest. “This day just sucked. What do we do? I can’t imagine telling my parents, let alone proving the photos are fake when they look so real.”

“Let’s talk to your parents tonight. We’ll be upfront about it and hope they understand.”

“My dad is going to lose it. What if they ban you from seeing me?”

“We’ll work through it. Somehow, we’ll prove the photos are fake. My sister’s lawyer is going to look into some things. Plus, there’s always time. They can’t keep me away from you forever.”

She leans up, her lips pressing softly against mine. I press back, hating everything this day’s held for us both.

“Lucy, I’m sorry. I won’t get my priorities mixed up again. I promise.”

“Thanks, and I’ll try to text back.”

“It was pretty crappy of me to text in the first place. I should have been here with you.”

She doesn’t say anything, instead wrapping her fingers through mine. “We should probably get to my parents before they go online.”

“Yeah.” We walk down the hill hand-in-hand and I open the door for her. My stomach rolls as I cross behind the car to my side. Proving this to her parents will be near impossible. I’ve always felt confident in awkward situations, but this tops them all. We didn’t do anything
wrong
, but we were making out alone in a bedroom at a party. No parent wants to know about that. Especially a dad.