A Game Worth Watching (3 page)

With
both Riley and his dad staring at her expectantly, she couldn’t bring herself
to do anything but nod and agree to think about the stupid girls’ basketball
team.

Mr.
Ledger leaned over and squeezed her arm before returning to his meal. From
across the table, Riley winked at her. She looked away. This evening had
started out so good with the promise of her favorite meal, but now she was
outnumbered two-to-one over some girls’ basketball team.

“If
you do go out for the team, we’d love to come see you play,” Mrs. Ledger said.

Emma
choked on the noodle halfway down her throat. Make that three-to-one. “That’s not
necessary,” she said. On the slim to none chance—with heavy emphasis on
the none—she did go out for the team, the last thing she’d want is a
cheering section. She had never been good in the spotlight. Invisibility suited
her just fine, especially since nothing good ever happened when attention was
thrown her way. Why couldn’t the Ledgers understand that? No way would she
allow her best friend and his family to force her into making the biggest
mistake of her life. It was best to stand her ground with an irreversible no.

***

Emma
slipped into her house unnoticed. Her two younger brothers, Lucas and Lenny,
were wrestling on the brown shag carpet of the living room floor, and Lance,
her older brother, sat beside their dad on the couch watching some football
game on television. Logan, the oldest of the pack, sat in the old wooden rocker
reading a book.

She
poked her head into the living room. “I’m home.”

“No
one cares,” Lance responded. No one else said anything.

She
had given up a long time ago thinking her dad or brothers worried about her
when she wasn’t home. They made it clear that being the only girl didn’t afford
her specialized treatment. After all, if it weren’t for her, the house would be
an all-male lair. She couldn’t shake the feeling that her dad wished one day he
would wake up and she would have disappeared just like her mom had done five
years ago. Growing up with four brothers had hardened her; growing up without a
mom had hardened them all.

She
retreated to the garage, ignoring the smell of must and mildew that refused to
go away no matter how many air fresheners she used. She weaved through stacks
upon stacks of boxes, an old weight lifting set, bikes with flat tires and bent
spokes, broken furniture and lawn tools, and every other type of artifact her
family had discarded over the years, until she finally came to the corner of
the garage which served as her bedroom. Boxes stuffed full of her family’s
possessions built her makeshift walls. A three-bedroom house wasn’t big enough
for a family of six, especially when only one of them was a girl. Her dad
figured she needed the most privacy, and what was more private than a
garage—graveyard—full of broken toys and tools?

Her
bedroom consisted of everything a bedroom should have including a dresser with
missing knobs and drawers that refused to close all the way, a single bed that
squeaked when she applied pressure, a wobbling bedside table, a lamp with a
missing shade, and a scrap of gray carpet to separate her feet from the
concrete floor. A few items of clothing hung neatly on hangers from the tops of
boxes, and she made sure all of her girl-related items were safely hidden in a
cardboard box where Riley wouldn’t stumble upon them. What more could a girl
ask for?

After
switching on the space heater that kept her just above freezing in the winter,
Emma changed into a pair of sweats and a long-sleeve shirt for bed. The springs
squeaked their goodnight as she climbed under the covers. She stared at the
ceiling she couldn’t see in the dark and listened to her dad and brothers.
Laughter and shouts of triumph over the game filtered through to her from the
other side of the wall.

Sometimes
privacy was synonymous with loneliness.

“Goodnight,”
she whispered to her family, separated from them by so much more than a wall.

Mentally
drained from the day’s drama, Emma’s eyelids drooped closed within minutes. The
space heater hummed along with the voices of her family, and the warm current
of air stroked her face as it mingled with the draft of cold winter air slipping
in from the crack under the garage doors. She felt herself slip a few notches
toward sleep.

Footsteps.
The sound of feet shuffling against pavement. Something about that particular
sound seemed off as Emma tried to fight sleep to place it. Did it come from the
world around her or from her dreams? In her sleep-induced state Emma tried to
make sense of it, but before she could, a hand clamped down on her mouth, and
no matter how hard she struggled, she couldn’t scream for help.

“Shh.
It’s me,” a voice whispered in the dark.

Emma
grabbed the hand covering her mouth and pulled it away, her heart pounding.
“Riley?” she gasped. “What are you doing here? You scared me half to death.”

She
heard him chuckle in the dark.

Emma
seriously regretted telling him where the hidden key was to her garage bedroom.
Sure, he’d snuck in before, but usually he warned her first.

Before
she could pull her arm back to punch him, Riley shoved something into her
hands. “Put this on.”

From
the feel of it, she knew it was her favorite sweatshirt. It was a hand-me-down
like everything else she owned, but it fit perfectly and had stood the test of
moths and basketball. Plus, it was green, her favorite color. She pulled it on
and slipped her feet into the shoes Riley tossed to her.

He
waited in the doorway leading outside. She stopped and leaned against the
opposite side of the doorframe to secure her hair in its usual wad, preparing
for their sprint to safety.

Riley
reached over and brushed a stray hair from her face. “You ready?”

“Why
do you ask me like I haven’t done this a million times before?”

Smiling,
he slipped his hand in hers. They were twelve the first time they snuck out
together on a night when no moon lit their path. Riley had gone one way and
Emma went another. For a girl whose mom had disappeared with no warning, fear
of separation did funny things. By the time Riley found her, she had already
fallen victim to the tears over his absence. From then on, Riley ensured her
hand was secured in his whenever darkness or anything else tried to separate
them, even after she grew old enough to take care of herself.

Hand
in hand, they snuck between the houses and bushes until their feet slapped the
pavement. They walked a few blocks before ducking between two evergreen trees,
finding the path through the woods, which would lead them to the water of Puget
Sound. Outstretched tree limbs brushed at them in the dark, and their feet,
familiar with the route, automatically stepped around tree roots poking through
the ground. With no moon or flashlight to illuminate their path through the
trees, only Riley’s soft humming guided Emma forward until the darkness of the
forest parted to reveal the night sky and rocky beach. They walked along the
water’s edge and climbed onto their fallen tree trunk to sit side by side,
looking out over the water. Emma reclaimed possession of her hand and shoved it
in her pocket to stay warm.

The
Narrows Bridge towered above them, the current surging beneath it. Aside from
cars whooshing across the bridge overhead and the occasional boat puttering by,
the night was quiet. During the day, people littered the beach and walked for
miles along the shore at low tide. Kids dug holes and upturned rocks looking
for crabs, dogs swam after sticks, and young couples hid among the rocks for
privacy. Now, as millions of stars looked down on them and lights from the
opposite shore reflected on the water’s surface, it was just Emma and Riley.
She watched the moonlight glisten on the water and thought about how perfect
the moment was…until Riley spoke.

“So,
have you thought any more about trying out for the girls’ team?”

His
nonchalant tone didn’t fool her. Tonight’s excursion wasn’t about spending time
with his best friend. He’d planned the evening for one simple reason—to
convince her to play for the girls’ team. She should’ve known. For Emma, the
thought of joining the girls’ basketball team at school was just as absurd now
as it had been when Jen Knowles invaded their court this afternoon. Emma
refused to be swayed with time. “No,” she said firmly.

When
Riley responded, his tone matched hers. “I think you should do it.”

She
sighed. “I’m sure you do, but I already told you I wasn’t.”

“Why
not?”

“Because
they’re girls.” She could have said they were diseased and it would have
sounded less horrific. Her life was, and always had been, one hundred percent
Matchbox
cars, mud, grass stains, and
Transformers
. No dolls, no dresses, no lace, and no pink. “I don’t
know anything about girls.”

Even
in the dark, she could feel him smile. “You do know
you
are a girl, don’t you?”

She
punched his arm. “Very funny.” Yes, she was a girl, but she wasn’t a normal
girl; even he could attest to her uniqueness. She was just another one of the
guys. She didn’t care about popularity status or making herself look beautiful
for the male population or being America’s most beloved princess. What she did
care about was the accuracy of her jump shot, hanging with the guys, and
staying as far away from girls and all things girl-related as possible.

She
listened to the water lap at the shore and shivered. Winter was definitely
approaching. The breeze blowing off the water, smelling like salt and seaweed,
didn’t help her stay warm. She pulled the hood of her sweatshirt over her head
and stuffed her hands into her sleeves to hide from the cold, but it bit into
her anyway.

Riley
looked at her, expecting more of an explanation for why she refused to step on
the basketball court with a bunch of girls as her teammates. She knew he
wouldn’t move past the ridiculous idea, but she couldn’t tell him the whole
truth: girls scared her. She’d seen plenty of movies and overheard enough girls
at school to know the truth about them. Girls could be your best friend one
second and your worst enemy the next. They revealed secrets during moments of
distress and sacrificed bonds of friendship for boyfriends and popularity. They
used and humiliated people for their own personal gain. They claimed to care
about you only to flee in the middle of the night never to return. Girls
couldn’t be trusted, and Emma refused to be thrust into the middle of their
drama, knowing she’d only get hurt in the end. Joining the girls’ basketball
team would be like entering piranha-infested waters. No thank you.

Riley
wouldn’t understand. He’d accuse her of overreacting and tell her not to always
expect the worst in people. Maybe he’d be right, but he didn’t know what it was
like to be hurt, unloved, and abandoned.

She
took a deep breath before plunging ahead with an answer to satisfy him. “I’ve
been surrounded by guys my entire life. I can’t just cross over. It would be
like going to a foreign country without speaking the language or appreciating
their culture.” Aside from the whole girl phobia thing—or maybe because of
it—Emma was as bad as a guy at understanding her own species.

Riley
studied her profile. “It could be good for you.”

“Says
the guy with the perfect life.”

“My
life is not perfect.”

She
rolled her head in his direction, her eyebrows raised in question. Unlike most
of the kids at school, Riley didn’t flaunt his lifestyle, but that didn’t mean
he couldn’t hold his own against any of them. He had plenty of money in the
bank, two great parents, a huge house, and a nice set of wheels. Plus, he was
an all around nice guy, and everyone loved him. Truth be told, Riley Ledger had
it good, and he knew it.

“Okay,”
he finally conceded. “Compared to your life my life may
seem
perfect, but only because you have
enough problems for the both of us.”

“Exactly,”
she said. “Which means I don’t need any more, especially not in the form of a
girls’ basketball team.”

Riley
hopped off the log to stand in front of her. She hated when he peered up at her
with his blue eyes, looking all innocent and trusting, like there was nothing
in the world he wouldn’t do for her. It only made it more difficult for her to
stand her ground.

“You
can fight me all you want, Em, but the truth is you’ll never get a college
scholarship to play on the
boys’
basketball team. This could be your shot.”

The
mere mention of college put her on edge. “My shot for what? College isn’t for
people like me. It’s for people like you.” He knew the limitations she faced
with no money to pay for college and no support from family. Education wasn’t
exactly a high priority for her. As much as she wanted to believe Riley, it was
hard to think seventeen years of nothing would miraculously unfold a future of
possibilities for her.

Leaning
against her knees, Riley rested his arms in Emma’s lap and looked up at her.
“What’s so different about you and me, huh? And don’t you dare say anything
about household income because you know I won’t buy it.”

Emma
didn’t respond. She didn’t want to rehearse how the world treated them
differently or how she was so much less than him. Of course, Riley didn’t see,
or maybe he chose not to acknowledge, how the two of them were from two
different worlds. Just because they were friends didn’t mean the future would
bring similar paths for them. It had always been her expectation that Riley
would go to college and earn some fancy degree while she stayed behind to
perfect her would-you-like-fries-with-that speech for a living. Household
income wasn’t the only thing separating them, but it sure was a huge factor.

“Em,
as soon as colleges see you play, they’ll—”