Page 21 of My High School Rebel Boyfriend
“It’s hot chocolate,” Mitchell said.
Ebony giggled, “Mmmm, it smells good, but I don’t wanna take your drink.” Her eyelashes were fluttering at Titan.
“Yeah, take it,” he said, handing it to her. “Though what’s the occasion, man?” He turned back to Mitchell and laughed. “This is like the second drink you’ve bought me. Ever. You win the lottery?”
Mitchell’s cheeks reddened. “Nah, man,” he mumbled.
“Harper?” Titan attempted to hand me the other cup.
“No, I’m fine,” I said, shaking my head, “but thanks, you have it.”
“Guess it’s break time then!” Titan signaled Ebony to sit on the bench where our gear was, and Mitchell joined them, shaking his head as Titan tried to give him back the hot chocolate. I felt decidedly awkward. I didn’t need a break, but I’d feel stupid training on my own and nobody had asked me to sit down. I just stood there as the others argued who would have a bagel or a donut.
“Hey, Harper, what do you want? Donut or bagel?” Titan asked.
“It’s okay,” I said, “I’m fine.” I didn’t want to eat something that Mitchell had bought for the two of them, especially as it seemed he didn’t splurge often.
“No, have one,” Titan said, already taking a bite of bagel, and Ebony with her lips to a chocolate donut.
I shook my head again. “Really, it’s okay. I’m fine.” My heart was thumping as I assessed the whole situation. They were sitting on the bench in this order: Titan at the end, Ebony, Mitchell. If I sat down, it would have to be next to Mitchell. I couldn’t take the volleyball and practice by myself unless I tried serving, but the net wasn’t upso that would be pointless. I didn’t want to do frog jumps and kangaroo hops by myself and look like an idiot. Just as I was contemplating doing some stretches, Ebony said, “Sit, Harper, take a break.”
It was amazing how confident she’d become in such a short time. Titan sure had some effect on her.
I moved to the bench, ensuring I left plenty of space between me and Mitchell. The low bench meant his legs were stretched out.
“You sure you don’t want something?” Mitchell offered me a choice of bagel and donut. It was a surprise that he could be so civil, but there was a distinct lack of friendliness in his tone. I shook my head, and he bit into one of them. I tried not to look and twiddled my fingers. Yeah, that’s a thing. One of my fingernails needed cleaning, but it was probably gross to do it while they were eating. My bag was on the other side of Mitchell’s legs, but I didn’t want to lean over them and get a whiff of his smell, yeah, you know that fresh, not-sexy one. I crossed my legs and, realizing that I was exposing way too much skin, promptly uncrossed them. Why, oh why hadn’t I worn my leggings?
“What?” I was aware that he’d said something, but I’d been momentarily horrified by the sight of a clump of long hairs by my ankle, obviously missed by my shaver.
“If you’re not eating you could be doing some plyometrics. Thought you wanted to work on your power.” He had a way of being brutally direct. “Tournament’s on Thursday.”
“Oh yeah.” I jumped up as if the seat of my pants was on fire. I intended to go to the end of the court out of their view, but I stumbled—had he deliberately flicked his foot as I passed? Pretending that I hadn’t tripped, I scooped to pick up the basketball on the floor. And knowing I had to keep the ruse going, I bounced the ball as I ran, and as I approached the hoop, aimed for a shot.
Miraculously it went in!
“Go Harper!” Ebony called, clapping excitedly.
I was about to throw the ball back to Titan, but before I knew it Mitchell was in front of me, his hoodie gone, revealing defined shoulders in a Bulls jersey and a tattoo peeking out from the top of his back. It was clear he wanted to play a little one on one. Gah...didn’t he know that my goal had been a fluke!
“Let’s go,” he said, shuffling from side to side.
“What?”
“Let’s play, Dent,” he said, in a low voice, obviously not wanting the others to hear. Then louder, “Let’s test your jump skills.” I was shook. Mitchell had never called meDentbefore, that was Titan’s name for me! “First to seven.”
“First to seven?”
As he started to answer, “Yeah, first..,” I sneakily side stepped him, dribbled the ball and threw up a shot. Lady Luck was on my side, because incredibly it went in. Ebony squealed.
Mitchell’s face darkened as he caught the ball, like this was all out war. He bounced it back to me. I took it down the court, then made a few sharp movements, but he covered me the whole time. At least my second attempt wasn’t a complete air shot. It hit the backboard, and Mitchell grabbed it, slow bouncing it to the free throw line.
I hadn’t played basketball since middle grade, but I danced around, trying to block him, and as he ran up and took the shot I leapt up in the hope of getting a rebound.
“Weak, Dent. One one,” he said smugly, snatching the ball away. Ebony shouted out another cry of encouragement.
Okay, I didn’t get the ball again. Mitchell never missed and had me running and jumping in all directions. The score was 7-1 and for some reason he celebrated as if he’d beaten LeBron James, and not someone about eight inches shorter than him who was a volleyball player. With no basketball experience. Talk about over the top.
I went back to the bench, taking another sip of juice. Titan got up, holding Ebony’s hand to help her rise, like a knight in shiningarmor. Then he draped his arm around her shoulder, “Okay, let’s have a little game, huh? Ebs and me against you two.” He looked from Mitchell to me. Gulping down my sugar fix, I didn’t have a chance to decline. Though there was no chance of me doing that.
