MY COCKY BASKETBALL PLAYER

Chapter 14

Tuesday.

I was walking to class for the third period when I heard them.

Derek's voice. Loud. Angry. Coming from the stairwell.

I stopped.

I didn't mean to. I just did.

I heard another voice. One of his friends. Then another.

I stayed where I was. Just around the corner. Out of sight.

"Why did you do it?" one of them asked.

"She's nobody," another said. "She's just the tutor."

"She's not nobody," Derek said.

I froze.

"What does that mean?"

"It means Maya was out of line."

"So? She's Maya. She's always out of line."

"She was going to strip her. In front of everyone. That's not out of line. That's messed up."

I could hear the anger in his voice. I'd never heard him like that. Not once.

"Why do you care?"

Derek didn't answer.

"Do you like her or something?"

"No."

"Then why?"

Silence.

"Because someone had to."

I heard footsteps. I pressed myself against the wall. They walked past me. They didn't see me.

I stayed there for a long time.

***

Because someone had to.

Not because he liked me. Not because he cared. Not because he felt bad.

Because someone had to.

I didn't know what to feel.

I walked to class. I sat down. I stared at the board.

Because someone had to.

I should have been relieved. He didn't like me. He didn't care. That was good. That meant nothing had changed. That meant I could still hate him.

But I didn't feel relieved.

I felt something else. Something I didn't understand.

***

The rest of the week was the same.

Whispers. Stares. People who didn't know what to think. People who didn't know whose side to be on.

Maya ignored me. Her friends didn't. They bumped my shoulder in the hallway. They laughed when I passed. They said things loud enough for me to hear.

"Charity case."

"Nobody."

"Teacher's pet."

I kept walking. I didn't react. I didn't give them the satisfaction.

But it was harder now. Harder because everyone was watching. Harder because I didn't know what they were thinking. Harder because Derek had done something I couldn't explain.

***

Thursday.

I was at my locker when someone slammed it shut.

I jumped back. Maya's friend. The one with the dark hair. She was standing there with two other girls.

"Oops," she said. "Did I scare you?"

I didn't answer. I tried to walk past her.

She stepped in front of me.

"You think you're special now?" she asked. "Because Derek carried you out?"

I looked at her. "I don't think I'm special."

"Good. Because you're not." She leaned closer. "You're still nothing. You're still a charity case. And Derek doesn't care about you. He just felt sorry for you."

I didn't answer.

She laughed. "Pathetic."

She walked away. Her friends followed.

I stood there for a moment. Then I opened my locker. I got my books. I went to class.

***

Friday night.

I was in my room. I couldn't sleep.

I kept replaying it. The stairwell. His voice. "Because someone had to."

I didn't understand him.

I didn't want to understand him.

But I couldn't stop.

***

Saturday.

I woke up early. I didn't want to go.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

I thought about calling his mother. Telling her I was sick. Staying home.

But I couldn't. I needed the money.

I got up. I showered. I got dressed.

I walked to his house.

Same route. Same gate. Same dread.

I knocked. His mother answered. She smiled.

"Nora. Come in."

I followed her inside. Same hallway. Same photos. Same floors.

"He's in the study room," she said.

I nodded. I walked to the study room. I pushed the door open.

He was there. Sitting at the desk. Waiting.

He looked up when I walked in.

He didn't say hello. He didn't smirk. He didn't mock.

He just looked at me.

I sat down. I opened my notebook.

"Let's start," I said.

He didn't say anything.

I started teaching.

He didn't listen.

But something was different. He wasn't on his phone. He wasn't leaning back. He wasn't scrolling or yawning or staring at the ceiling.

He was watching me.

Just watching.

I kept teaching. I didn't look at him. I didn't react.

The hour ended.

I packed my things. I stood up.

"Same time next week?" I asked.

He didn't answer.

I walked out.

***

I walked home.

I replayed the session. The way he looked at me. The way he didn't say anything. The way he didn't smirk.

I didn't understand.

I got home. I checked my phone.

His number.

"Are you okay?"

I stared at the screen.

He asked if I was okay.

I didn't answer.

He sent another.

"You don't have to answer. Just checking."

I still didn't answer.

I didn't know what to say.

Because someone had to.

I hate him. I hate him so much.

But I couldn't stop thinking about the way he said it. The way his voice sounded. The way he didn't hesitate.

Because someone had to.

***

I didn't answer.

I put my phone down.

I lay back. I stared at the ceiling.

I don't know what it means.

I don't know what any of it means.