Page 34 of Off the Rim
Ashton comes back, awkwardly pushing a mop and bucket to the center of the court where the mess is.
"Do you even know how to work one of those?"
He rolls his eyes at me, then stares down at the handle on the side of the bucket. "Okay, no. But if this was a normal bucket, I could totally figure it out."
Laughing, I help him push the handle, so it squeezes the water out of the mop. He makes an exaggerated show of mopping up the sweat and blood and rinsing the mop out. He almost returns the bucket full of dirty water to the maintenance closet, but I guide him toward the showers to pour it out and rinse the bucket first.
Both of us shower and get dressed in relative silence, but it's not uncomfortable. Ashton seems relaxed, and I'm making an effort to be. My mind is whirling with everything that's happened, and Weston's words are ringing in the back of my head.
As I'm about to leave the locker room, Ashton calls out.
"Same time tomorrow?"
"Yeah. We've got four hours left," I say, noting that it's afternoon already. The morning went by quickly, and I wonder how long we would have stayed on the court if we hadn't ended up on the floor. Then I wonder what would have happened if Coach Weston hadn't walked in when he did. How does Ashton keep catching me off guard?
"Uh, yeah. That's what I meant." He seems disappointed by something, but I don't ask. My stomach is growling, and I need to get my umbrella, so I'm not soaked every time I leave my dorm.
I'm almost through the lobby when Ashton calls out and runs to catch up to me.
"I meant what I said before we… you know. We're going to make it together. As teammates," he quickly adds before I can say anything. "This whole 'dynamic duo' thing is what's going to get us noticed and take our team to the championship. I'm sorry about what I did last night. I shouldn't have tried to kiss you."
"It's just… that's not what this is," I say, and eye the swelling and bruising on the left side of his jaw. "But I'm sorry too. For hitting you, and for what I did the other day. I shouldn't have taken it there."
Ashton reaches out and taps my nose. "Well, we're even on the punch, at least."
He winks and opens his large umbrella over my head. I don't object when he steps in close to me so he can cover us both from the rain. And when he suggests heading to the student union so we can discuss what we're going to do for community service, I agree even though I could just text him the information.
We end up practicing together for the next three mornings and then heading to the student union for lunch. We talk and laugh, avoiding sore subjects like our families and sticking to basketball stats and what strategies we think we'll need to beat the top teams we're playing this year. Our first tournament games are coming up next month after the Thanksgiving holiday, and Ashton is excited to go to Las Vegas. He rolls his eyes, of course, when I say very matter-of-factly that I won't be going out on the town after the games. Not because I'm afraid to break curfew,although I stand to lose more if I'm caught and get in trouble, but because partying with the guys on our team doesn't sound like a good time. We'd probably end up in some flashy strip club where I'd have to spend my life savings to hide in a champagne room by myself while everyone else gets lap dances. No, thank you.
"You know, if you socialized with the team more, they'd probably warm up to you faster."
I snort. "I sincerely doubt that."
"Look, a few of them are admittedly pretty douchey, but they're not all bad guys. Once they get to know you, they'll see how cool you are. And it couldn't hurt to have friends in high places."
"Like I haven't heard that before. I'm not about to let people walk all over me or brown-nose my way into fake friendships because I'm hoping they'll think I'm one of the good ones and will throw me a bone once in a while. People here expect me to kiss their feet because I wasn't born with a silver spoon, but that doesn't make any of you better than me."
"I know it doesn't," Ashton says firmly. "I don't think that."
I give him a pointed look.
"Maybe I used to," he concedes. "But I'm trying to be better. You make me want to be better."
Those words churn in my stomach for the rest of the day, and all the next day while we're working on a clean-up crew from the storm damage. We're both pretty silent while we work, until Ashton notices me talking to Randall, the organizer for the cleanup.
"You know that guy?"
"Yeah, he's the one that told me about the cleanup."
"He looks too old to be a student."
"He's not a student. I think he went to trade school, actually. I can't remember."
"So how do you know him?"
I gesture around at the group of people milling about, picking up garbage and debris. "I work with this group sometimes."
"You volunteer regularly?" He looks surprised by the information, which I find amusing.
