MY COCKY BASKETBALL PLAYER

Chapter 3

I woke up angry.

Sleep hadn’t softened anything. If anything, it had made it worse.

His smirk. His phone. That irritating laugh.

I dragged myself out of bed, made coffee, and got dressed in silence. Uniform. Hair tied back. Shoes on

I grabbed my notebook from the floor and shoved it into my bag.

Then I headed for school, already dreading the one person I knew I’d have to see.

Him.

***

Gemma found me at my locker before first period. She was already bouncing on her heels.

"How did it go?"

I closed my locker. Looked at her.

"That bad?"

"Worse," I said. "He didn't try. He didn't even look at me. Just scrolled through his phone the whole time."

She winced. "Oh no."

"I walked out."

"You walked out?"

"I told his mom to keep the money. I'm not going back."

Gemma's face shifted. She looked uncomfortable.

"What?"

"His mom called my mom last night," she said quietly. "She was really upset. She said Derek's been through three tutors already. She was hoping you'd be different."

I felt something twist in my chest. Guilt, maybe. But I pushed it down.

"That's not my problem," I said. "He doesn't want to be helped."

"Are you sure?"

I stared at her.

"I mean," she said carefully, "are you sure you won't give it another chance? The money was really good."

The money.

I thought about the jar in my closet. The numbers I'd counted so many times. The tuition that kept getting closer and closer.

"I can't," I said. "I just can't."

But even as I said it, I wasn't sure I meant it.

***

The day dragged.

Classes blurred together. I stared at whiteboards without seeing them. I answered questions without hearing them. My mind kept drifting back to that room. The basketball posters. The expensive laptop. His feet on the desk.

And his mother. Her voice on the phone. So warm. So grateful.

"He's a good boy, really. He just needs someone patient."

I'd let her down. I'd walked out on her son after one hour. One bad hour.

But then I remembered his face. The way he laughed when I said I was leaving. Like I was entertainment. Like my anger was a joke.

I got angry all over again.

And then I felt guilty for being angry.

And then I felt angry for feeling guilty.

It was exhausting.

I went home. I ate dinner alone. My mother was working another double shift. I sat at the kitchen table, poking at cold food, staring at the wall.

My phone sat next to my plate. Silent.

I thought about the money again. Double what I made at the café. It could cover so much. It could change everything.

But I couldn't go back. I couldn't sit across from him again. I couldn't let him treat me like I was nothing.

Could I?

***

My phone rang.

I almost didn't answer. It was an unknown number. I let it ring twice. Three times.

Then I picked up.

"Hello?"

"Is this Nora?" A woman's voice. Familiar. Warm.

My stomach dropped.

"Yes."

"It's Derek's mother. I hope I'm not disturbing you."

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.

"I heard what happened," she continued. "I'm so sorry. He can be... difficult. I know that. I'm not making excuses for him."

"It's okay," I said quietly. "It's not your fault."

"He told me you left. He said you walked out."

"Yes."

There was a pause. I heard her take a breath.

"Would you consider coming back?"

I wanted to say no. I should have said no.

"I know it's a lot to ask," she said. "And I understand if you don't want to. But he needs someone who won't give up on him. Someone who won't let him push them away."

I thought about his face. His smirk. The way he looked at me like I was nothing.

"I don't think he wants me there," I said.

"He doesn't want anyone there. That's the problem."

Another pause. Then she said it.

"I'll double your rate."

I stopped breathing.

"I know it's not about the money," she said quickly. "But I want you to know how much I appreciate you trying. Please. Just one more session. If it doesn't work, I won't ask again."

One more session. Double the money.

I thought about my jar. My tuition. My future.

"Okay," I heard myself say. "One more chance."

She exhaled. "Thank you. Thank you so much. Same time Saturday?"

"Yes."

I hung up.

I stared at my phone. What had I just done?

***

I sat there for a long time. My food was cold. I didn't care.

My phone buzzed.

New number. I didn't recognize it.

I opened the message.

"It's Derek. Mom said you're coming back. Don't bother. I don't need a tutor."

I stared at the screen. He got a new number. Just to text me. I should be annoyed. I was annoyed.

But underneath the annoyance, something else stirred. He'd gone out of his way to find me. To tell me not to come.

Which meant he cared. Even if it was just enough to push me away.

I typed back: "I don't need you either. But I'm coming anyway."

Three dots appeared instantly. Then disappeared. Then appeared again.

His reply: "Why?"

I stared at the word. Why was I going back? He didn't want me there. I didn't want to be there.

But I wanted the money.

And somewhere underneath that, I wanted to prove him wrong. I wanted to show him that he couldn't scare me off. That his smirk and his phone and his laugh didn't mean anything.

I didn't answer. I put my phone down.

***

I lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling. Saturday was six days away. Six days until I walked back into that house. Six days until I saw his face again.

I told myself I wasn't nervous.

I was lying.