At the Right Time

Chapter Twenty

Maxwell ~ Five years ago

It's the first game of my senior year tonight. This is only a scrimmage; except it's not. Recruiters are in the stands to watch me. Plus, people have caught wind that I'll most likely end up in the NBA and all want to say they watched me play before I made it.

I don't care, as long as they buy tickets and add to my hype.

I spent most of the summer training and the first couple months of my senior year applying for universities.

Now comes the most important part— I've got to play like hell.

I walk out onto the court, instantly looking for my girl.

I find her sitting with a few friends towards the bottom of the bleachers.

She's wearing my orange number sixteen jersey.

When I look at her, my heart feels like it swells.

Fuck, I'm falling in love with her.

Rylie is the only one who has on the number sixteen tonight, other than myself, because all the other school merch has my old number.

I smile when her eyes meet mine. I ball my right hand into a fist, using my thumb to make an X over my heart. Rylie does the same.

I came up with it one night when we were lying in the bed. I wanted a way to show her I'm thinking about her even when I'm on the court. It's kind of like crossing my heart to her.

It's cheesy, really, but I wanted a way to incorporate my two favorite things together. Rylie and basketball. In that order.

I haven't told her that I love her yet. I mean, our relationship is just sneaking around so my parents won't find out and late nights.

I haven't even taken her on a proper date.

We were both busy through the summer and made time for each other whenever we could.

Now that school has started back, we've both been busier.

When we do get to make time for each other, it's amazing. It's just kind of rare.

Conversation flows easily with her, and she knows my deepest secrets. The girl knows my soul.

I make a mental note to find a way to spend more time with her before I'm off to college. That thought makes me ache already and I still have several months before it happens.

I play my heart out, absolutely crushing it. I make six three pointers, two dunks and play defense like my life depends on it.

We win, by a long shot.

After the game I don't get to talk to Rylie because I'm bombarded with people wanting to talk to me. Recruiters for smaller colleges, fans— according my coach, but I hate that term— and my classmates even want to hang around.

All that I want to do when I'm finally able to leave is crawl into her bed and kiss her soft skin.

But it's Friday.

I drive to my dad's house a little ways out of Atlanta.

He's most likely in his room asleep by now, if I'm lucky.

When I tread the stairs to go check on Sophie, I hear him behind me.

I'm never lucky, not in this regard.

"Son."

I physically cringe, but I know my baby sister is sleeping and if he's seeking me out that means she's safe.

I turn, giving my father a fake smile.

"Why are you in late? You're supposed to be here by eight on Friday."

"I told you that I had a game."

"Don't get an attitude with me."

I fight the strong urge to bolt. My feet stay planted on the carpeted stairs.

"Come down here."

I take the steps one at a time, letting both feet hit each one.

When I get to the bottom, I don't even get to place my bag on the ground before I'm shoved backwards.

I grunt as I steady out my weight and stay upright. If I fall down too soon, it'll only make him angrier.

"You think you're going to play basketball for a living?"

I don't answer. He isn't really looking for one anyway. He just wants somewhere, someone, something to take his self-hatred out on.

It's me. It's always fucking me.

A couple more blows and I finally find the ground. I lie still, not even making any sounds as I take hit and hit. Kick after kick.

I'm sure I've had broken ribs before, and it feels like I may have another one.

The worst part is that I could take him. Even if I didn't win, I'd give the man a run for his money.

Fighting back means it could get bad for Sophie or that I couldn't come over here to protect her anymore. So I let him and I don't even try to stop it.

He's extra angry tonight. Something must've set him off. Or maybe he's drunker than he usually is when I come in at normal time.

Either way, as the punches come, my mind goes to my happy place.

It used to be on the court, dominating the other team.

Now? Now it's with Rylie.

Anywhere with her.

In the pool this last summer on vacation, when she and Rachel snuck a couple beers and she flashed me while no one was looking.

On the driveway basketball court in the backyard pretending like she knows anything about basketball. Sometimes I let her win because she's cute when she's excited.

In her bed when she's had another bad dream. The way she holds onto me like I'm her lifeline.

The way she kisses me and looks at me and touches me.

I want the whole world to know she's mine, and they will one day.

I'll make sure one day everyone knows how great Rylie Thomas is and better yet, how she's all mine.

My dad finally quits and I hold my breath until he's disappeared into his bedroom.

My ribs are in constant pain and when I try to get up, that pain turns white-hot.

I manage to make it to my sister's room.

She's asleep in her plain bedroom with white everything.

My father couldn't even be bothered to get her favorite color sheets.

I collapse onto the floor beside her, letting my body finally lose consciousness.