“Sit down, please, Aurora.”
My face scrunches, confused, as I side eye Emilia who hasn’t been given strict instructions to sit down by Xander. I take a seat on the picnic bench in front of him, resting against my hands as he paces in front of me dramatically. “Done.”
“Thank you, Aurora.”
“You’re welcome, Alexander. Your wish is my command, clearly.”
He stops pacing. “Is this a joke to you?”
“This? What’s happening right now?” He nods. “Yes, it’s very much a joke to me. I have no idea what’s going on. Can you move a couple of inches to the right, then a couple of inches forward, please? The sun is in my eyes.”
The three of us were supposed to be filling up water bottles for the kids ahead of rock climbing and somehow I’ve ended up with Xander wearing his most serious expression. I thought it was weird when he insisted on helping and I should have known he was up to something.
He kisses his teeth, his hands settling on his hips as he stares me down. “This is serious.”
“I’m sure whatever is happening right now is very serious to you, Xan. Still don’t know what’s happening though.”
I look across to Emilia who shrugs, watching our friend with interest. “The way you act sometimes makes me glad I don’t date men,” Emilia says.
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that to me. I have two words—”
“Attention and seeker?” Emilia says at the same time I say, “Over and dramatic?”
“—basketball tournament.” He glares at me. “Overdramatic is one word. Get your head in the game, Roberts. You’re an English major.”
I’m really struggling not to laugh, but I’m trying my hardest. He’s caught my interest now and I’m excited to see where this whole thing is going. “Is the game spelling or basketball? Because I’m confused.”
“Basketball tournament,” he repeats, a little louder this time. “We can’t lose.”
I once again look at Emilia, mainly searching for confirmation that we’re both experiencing the same thing and I’m not having a weird hallucination. Her perfectly sculpted eyebrows are nearly touching she’s frowning so hard.
I decide to be the nominated speaker for the both of us. Clearing my throat, I look back at Xander. “Uh, okay?”
“I don’t know what sordid and creative sexual wizardry Callaghan has promised you to throw the game, but I need you to forget about it. My reputation is on the line here and I need you to be a team player.”
“Rory is very popular with the Titans basketball team, Xan. You don’t have anything to worry about,” Emilia says, stepping just out of my reach when I try to punch her in the arm. “She loves being a team player.”
“Shut up,” I hiss at her. “Xander, I can’t lie. I have zero idea what you’re talking about. I’m not throwing anything, there’s no promises of witchcraft and or wizardry that I’m aware of and, sweetie, I really don’t think it’s that serious. The tournament is supposed to be a bit of fun.”
Somehow—and I truly believe that Xander is probably the one who started it—we’ve ended up involved in a staff basketball tournament this evening. Teams were picked at random using colored pieces of paper in a hat and, much to his absolute delight, Russ is on a team with Clay, while Emilia and I are with Xander and some of the lifeguards. Poor Maya has never played basketball in her life but says she doesn’t care because all the people on her team are tall and, in her book, that automatically makes them good.
“Russ told me you’d agreed to help them cheat.”
That little sneak. “Russ is just getting under your skin, buddy. That’s what you guys do when you play right? Shit talk each other. I haven’t even talked to him properly since this morning.”
My favorite thing is when Russ stops by my cabin on the way back from his morning run before people are up. I sit on his knee or beside him, depending on how sweaty and gross he is, and we watch the sun rise. I’m always half asleep, but I’d definitely remember making a diabolical plan to betray Xander.
“You know you could have just said don’t cheat, right?” Emilia says, looking at her watch. “Could have saved us so much time.”
“If there’s sexual wizardry on offer, I might cheat, Xander. I’m just being honest with you, it is very likely that I’ll be influenced. I don’t even know what it entails, but I know that I want to be a part of it. I’m sure you can respect the difficult position I’m in.”
“I can’t and won’t. I’m not losing to Clay because you’re horny, Aurora,” Xander says sternly.
“If we lose to Clay, it’s because I have to play basketball when I have no hand-eye coordination.” I’m super lazy when it’s on the Brown Bears’ schedule because I just let Xander or Clay take charge. “You need to relax. It’s not going to count against you next season, y’know.”
Xander and Clay both worked here last year, but in different groups, so they weren’t strangers when they were grouped together this year. But last month, on one of the rare occasions I checked my phone, I saw Ryan had text to tell me he signed with LA Rockets.
The guys overheard me tell Emilia and it started a conversation about the NBA. Which then started a further conversation about how Xander and Clay know Ryan because they’ve played against him and, just to add another level, the pair play against each other.
I’ve heard them make subtle digs at each other sometimes, but I’ve brushed it off as guy-nonsense. What I didn’t realize is Stanford and Berkeley are bitter athletic rivals and, apparently, that expands to informal-just-for-fun summer camp basketball.
Ridiculous.
“I’ve seen you play paint-dodgeball. I know there’s nothing wrong with your hand-eye coordination, you Judas.”
“Serious question,” Emilia says, picking up the water bottles we put down when Xander insisted we stopped for an important discussion. “Why are you the way you are?”
He doesn’t answer her, instead opting to explain all the rules of basketball to us while we journey to the water machines and back. By the time we make it back to our group, I’m surprised the kids haven’t passed out from dehydration.
I hand Russ’s bottle to him as his eyebrow quirks. “What took you so long?”
He puts the bottles to his lips, taking a big drink. When his mouth is full, I say my two new favorite words to him. “Sexual. Wizardry.” The water partially sprays out of his mouth, the rest causes him to choke. He bashes his palm against his chest, covering his mouth with his forearm until he eventually stops spluttering. “Need me to put you in the recovery position, Callaghan?”
His eyes are watering and his face is pink, but it doesn’t stop him from beginning to laugh. “I couldn’t help it.”
“I feel like you could definitely help it.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t understand,” he says quietly. “He was being so annoying. He asked me if I was excited to play a real sport. He’s normally so laid back, but competition makes him vicious and I have to live with him.”
“Oh, no.” I pout playfully. “Did the nasty man who chases men for a ball insult you? A man who also chases men for a ball, but on ice?”
“I know you’re just trying to mock me right now, but let me say, you’re really fucking cute when you pout at me like that. But I’m going to need you to confirm for me that you know that there isn’t a ball in hockey. I mean, I’m the goalie, so I don’t technically chase anyone, but if we could start with the ball thing first that’d be great.”
He’s staring at me and, given the fact his face hasn’t recovered from the choking, it’s pretty intense. Just past him I can see some of the boys starting to get into the rock climbing harnesses and they’re definitely not the right ones. “Boys,” I yell, looking past Russ, “not those ones! Let me help.”
Stepping around a still perplexed Russ, I head in the direction of my campers, only getting halfway there before I hear Russ shouting me. “Ror! I just need to hear you say you know it’s not a ball! Just once!”
“Sorry, Callaghan! I don’t negotiate with my competition!” I yell back over my shoulder, smiling to myself when I see Xander immediately start to stomp in Russ’s direction.
There’s a reason I’ve always liked basketball players, but rarely attended basketball games: they’re boring.
Someone—probably Xander—organized the tournament schedule and, at this point, I can’t remember how many games we’ve played. I have no idea if we’re winning or not and although my legs are sore, it’s mainly from running up and down the court while Xander hogs the ball and scores all our points.
The kids are having a blast, cheering and shouting enthusiastically throughout every game, but I have definitely lost interest. I want a hot chocolate. I want to watch a movie. I want to hold a dog while Russ’s hand rests on my thigh under a blanket.
Basically, I’m ready to get my evening back on its regular schedule.
“What if we just refuse to play?” Emilia says, stretching beside me.
“He doesn’t actually need us, so I don’t think that’d work.”
“Protest?”
“Pointless.”
“Fire?”
“Extreme,” I sigh. “I already thought of that one.”
“You know if we went on vacation like I suggested, we could have avoided this,” she says.
“I know,” I say, sighing even more dramatically than the last time. “I already thought of that too.”
The only perk to this whole circus is that Russ is pretty good at basketball and every time he demonstrates that skill, Clay and Xander look really confused and it’s very satisfying to witness. When we play it with the Brown Bears—of course, I say we lightly since I don’t do anything—Russ is concentrating on making sure the kids are all having fun.
Now he’s playing for himself, he doesn’t need to hold back and I don’t need to pretend I’m not staring at him because everyone else is too.
Xander sits in the empty space beside me and I hear Emilia groan before he’s even opened his mouth. He looks around me to my best friend, scowling. “Next time you need something off a top shelf, don’t bother asking me for help. Try growing.”
Emilia cackles. “Ooh, someone’s feeling feisty.”
He ignores her, instead turning back to me. “Roberts, how do you feel about flashing?”
“Being flashed? Big no. Not a fan. Being the flasher? I ordinarily wouldn’t be against it if it’s for something important, like a summer camp amateur basketball tournament where there is no prize or real incentive to participate, but it isn’t possible with minors around. Sorry.”
He sighs. “That’s true. Damn, kids. I wish Clay had a mascot you could steal.”
“I steal one pig a million years ago and suddenly I’m a risk to mascots,” I roll my eyes. As for my various reputations over the years, this is probably the most annoying one. “Would it help if I told you it’s not the winning that counts, it’s the taking part?”
Xander pins me with a look so icy, it reminds me of my mom staring at my dad. “Grow up, Aurora.”
What feels like a dozen games later, it’s finally time for us to play Russ. I’ve been purposely avoiding him since this afternoon, instead opting to send him intimidating looks, occasionally dragging my finger across my neck when I caught him staring at me.
He approaches me as soon as we step onto the court, holding out his hand to shake mine. “Isn’t this the bit where you proposition me with something debased and scandalous to help you cheat?” I say quietly, trying to look casual given our huge audience.
“Sorry, Roberts. I don’t negotiate with my competition.” He lets go of my hand, moving on to shake everyone else’s so it doesn’t look weird.
Xander is at my side immediately. “What did he say?”
“He said he’d organize a threesome with someone on the hockey team if I help him cheat. I said no. Told him I’m committed my team.”
“Okay, you could have picked something believable if you were going to lie to me.” Xander snorts and it’s the most Xander he’s been all day, which gives me hope this super intense version of him will pass. “That boy isn’t sharing you with anyone, ever. Is your head in the game?”
“My head is always in the game.”
The game starts and in a very predictable turn of events, it’s the Xander versus Clay show. Emilia and I are jogging up and down the court trying to keep up, but they all have such long legs and everything moves so quickly. They battle for points, which is fine, until Clay and Russ find their rhythm, making it harder for Xander and the other people on our team to keep up. Harder, but not impossible.
We’re neck and neck and, honestly, I’m more than ready for this to be over.
“Roberts,” Xander hisses as he runs past me. “Distract him.”
I don’t need him to expand on who him is. Rolling my eyes, I move to the other side of the court, the side Russ seems to favor. The only good distraction methods I have involve nudity and, as previously established, I can’t do that here. He looks over his shoulder at me as I approach him and I feel really freaking silly because there’s no way I can do what Xander wants.
I watch Clay battle with Xander, then turn, looking for Russ and I realize it’s my shot. The ball is heading right for him and I get as close as I can. “Can we have a threesome?”
Russ’s head snaps to me instantly, the basketball hits him right in the stomach. He grunts on impact, making me feel sort of bad.
Even in his winded state, he half lunges for the ball, but I’m quicker and as soon as it’s in my hands I freeze.
Oh shit, I didn’t think beyond the distraction.
“GO,” about fifty people shout at me at once.
Bouncing a ball and moving my feet at the same time is not as easy as it looks and somewhere in the distance I can hear Xander screaming at me to pass, but it’s too late, because there’s a body on mine. Russ being this close to me in front of so many people feels scandalous, but even with his heavy breath on my neck making my nipples go hard, he’s really freaking determined to get the ball back.
“We can both play dirty, sweetheart,” he huffs.
I’m surprised I can hear him, considering how loud the kids are being on the sidelines. The whistle blows and Russ takes an extra second to unwrap himself from around me. I tut at him, bouncing the ball once while our teammates argue over God knows what in the background. I can only assume what we just did breaks some kind of rule, but I’d be lying if I said I had any interest in finding out which ones. “I have a proposition for you.”
“If it’s another threesome offer, I respectfully decline.”
I can’t help but snort. “If I pretend to hurt myself, wanna go find the dogs and drink hot chocolate?”
“Of course I want that. Basketball is shit.”
“Not all balls are created equal.” Xander gestures for me to throw him the ball while he continues to bicker with Clay about something. “You’re allowed to favor your own.”
Russ is staring at me with his hands on his hips. His hair is messy, brushed back off his face in the way I love. It’s a real struggle to not tell him how pretty he is every minute of the day. “I know we sort of laughed about it, but I need to hear you say you know what a hockey puck looks like and that you know it’s not a ball.”
“Of course I do.” He breathes a sigh of relief. “Like a little baby car tire.”
“What? No, it—”
I turn to walk away from him, pretending to trip over my own feet and fall to the ground before he can say anything else, shouting OUCH at the top of my lungs. Russ crouches beside me, pretending to check my knee for injury. “You’d be a terrible actress, y’know.”
“I’m in so much pain,” I say casually. “Please take me to the nurse, my hero.”
The rest of our team jog over, staring down at me on the floor. “What happened?”
“She fell over her own feet,” Russ says, holding out his hands to help pull me to my feet. “I should take her to the nurse to be on the safe side. You guys carry on without us.”
Clay immediately tries to protest, but Xander beats him to it. “Yeah that’s fair, then we’re both one person down. Feel better, Roberts. Good effort, etcetera.”
He mouths good job as I pretend to hobble away with Russ and I love that Xander immediately thinks I did this for him and not myself.
When we’re far enough away from the basketball court that the kids’ cheers are just a quiet hum, Russ pulls me off the path and pushes me against a tree. My heart rate instantly spikes, excitement growing as he presses into me, caging me in with his arms. I know everyone is at the basketball court, but this is bold, especially for him.
“If I knew you wanted to take me against a tree, I’d have fallen down so much earlier.”
“Take you? No,” he echoes. “I need your undivided attention while I talk to you about hockey pucks.”
