Maverick

“USE PRINCE, HE’S OPEN,” Coach boomed across the court. Beads of sweat dripped down my back as I dodged Tribeca’s defensive block. Balor yelled my name, and I looked up just in time to see the ball sailing through the air. My arm shot up, my fingertips grazing the surface just enough that I managed to cradle the ball in the palm of my hand. I slammed it down, controlling the dribble as I approached the three-point area.

“Take the shot,” someone yelled, but I was in the zone. Just me, the ball, and the hoop. I shouldered past Mac, dipped my hands, glanced up and let it fly.

“Holy shit.”

I don’t know who said it; I was too entranced by the ball slicing through the air and making its way home. The whistle blew, and Coach yelled, “Okay, bring it in.”

“Nice, Prince.” Someone clapped me on the back. “Keep that up and we might actually have a shot at making the play-offs this year.”

We all gathered in, waiting for Coach to breakdown the play. Practice had moved on from the basics needed to gel as a team, to more tactical plays and strategy, and I loved every minute. “Prince?”

“Yeah?” My head snapped up.

“Nice work out there. Take note, team. That is how you do it. Balor keep feeding Prince the ball like that and the two of you will be a force to be reckoned with this season.”

Balor nudged my shoulder and gave me a little smirk. But when I looked back over at Coach, Zac was glaring at the two of us.

“Okay, last fifteen minutes on the clock. I want you to break into four teams of five and scrimmage. Zac, a word please?”

The circle broke off and me and Balor jogged back to center court. “What’s that about?” I flicked my head over to where Zac was standing with Coach. Whatever it was looked serious.

“Beats me.” He shrugged. “Coach is always riding Zac about something. He probably got wind of Piss—I mean, Kawinski. Doesn’t look good for the team when a player goes MIA.”

“Has anyone spoken to Sam?”

“Nah.” Balor stretched his arms out while we waited for everyone to organize themselves. “Once they leave, they never come back.”

They.

He’d said they.

“It’s happened before?” I was treading a thin line. But I’d watched Zac and the three of them—Mac, Balor, and Vinnie—closely over the last few weeks. Of the four of them, Balor was the easiest to read. Mac seemed like an okay guy. And Vinnie had given me more than one hint that he didn’t agree with Zac’s bullshit, but I’d yet to see any hard proof.

“Like you haven’t heard the stories.” Balor gave me a pointed look, and Vinnie shouted, “Are we playing, or standing around bitching like pussies?” His eyes held mine.

“We’re playing,” I said flatly.

“Let’s see what you’ve got then, Prince,” he challenged and as it often did with Vinnie, it felt personal. But we’d moved past it feeling like a threat into unchartered territory.

For the last three weeks we’d worked together as a team. Running plays and conditioning drills. I’d learned each player's strengths and weaknesses, and in turn they had learned mine. Just as I suspected, Zac was a weak link. He was good, but he wasn’t great. Too busy trying to dominate the court rather than use his strongest players. Vinnie and Balor were good, really good. Darnell, Tribeca, and a kid out of San Francisco were strong. But under Zac’s weak leadership there were too many holes. Guys spent more time fearing their narcissistic captain than worrying about their skill on the court. I itched to take the reins, to show Coach and the rest of the team where they could make some easy fixes to improve play, but I had to play it cool. Stand back and let Coach and my teammates come to me.

It was the only way to muscle in on Zac’s territory.

Because as I looked across court and found him watching me still, I realized although he no longer regarded me as a threat, he still didn’t trust me. He probably didn’t trust anyone but himself. And that made him more of a loose cannon that I first thought.

~

AFTER HITTING THE SHOWER, I went back to my corner of the locker room to towel off.

“You think that it’ll play out this time?” 

I didn’t look over to where Zac and the others were, but I could hear them. A quick glance around told me most of the team were still showering. The ones who were getting changed were too scared to so much as glance in Zac’s direction.

“Nah, man,” he said. “My dad already handled it. Everything’s cool.”

I pulled on my shorts and toweled my hair, pretending to mind my own business. 

“What about Coach?” Vinnie asked.

“He’s just got a stick up his ass because he can’t touch me, and he knows it.”

“Maybe you should—”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Zac growled. “I’m untouchable. Nothing’s changed. Pissinski didn’t have what it took and now he’s gone. Way I see it, it’s a good thing. We don’t need dead weight holding us back. Now spread the word. Party at the house tonight. I need to get fucked up and then I need to get fucked good, if you know what I’m saying.” Zac roared with laughter, but no one joined in, and I risked glancing over to where the four of them were getting changed. 

“Problem, Prince?” Mac said catching my eye.

“Just minding my own.” I shrugged dismissively.

“Good,” he shot back. “Keep it that way.” His eyes flicked to Zac who was too busy texting on his phone to notice.

I lingered behind as the four of them left. I half-expected an invite, but since being pulled aside by Coach, Zac was restless. It was all in his eyes.

Darnell appeared freshly showered. “What was that all about?” 

“I’m not sure yet.” I rubbed my jaw.

The rumors were true. Zac’s father had cleaned up his son’s mess before. That’s what Balor had been hinting at. I’d heard about other players leaving. But no one ever spoke out against Zac to confirm anything.

“Be careful, man,” Darnell gave me a hard look. “I don’t know what it is you’re planning, but I’ve seen that look before. It never ends well.”

“What’s up, bitches?” Jonas sauntered into the locker room, his towel riding low on his hips. “Did I hear someone say party tonight at the frat house?”

“Yeah,” I grumbled.

“Fuck, yeah.”

“Jonas, you really need to work on your cool, bro,” Darnell said.

“Nah, man. Chicks love my swagger.”

Darnell rolled his eyes, but I was saved by my cell phone vibrating in my backpack. I pulled on a clean t-shirt and threw the rest of my shit inside. “Right, I’m out. I’ll see you later.”

“Later.”

I dug my cell out and hit answer. “Yeah.”

“Is that any way to greet your favorite brother?”

“Stepbrother,” I stated. “What do you want?”

“Just checking in. Wanted to see how the Prince is doing. The usual.”

“Jesus, you’re annoying.”

“But you love me.”

“I’m hanging up now,” I said around a grimace, but he rushed out, “Don’t you want to know why I’m calling?”

“You mean there is a point?”

“Well, duh.”

“Stone,” I warned. “If you have something to say, spit it out or—”

“Okay, okay, keep your panties on. Macey came home trashed yesterday and Lo looked after her.”

“I know.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, Lo told me.” Actually, she’d texted me. Something she was doing more and more lately. But I was trying not to read between the lines.

“Oh, I didn’t know.”

“You do know she’s my girlfriend, right? Anyhow, did you see Macey today?”

“Around school, yeah. But she was already gone when I left this morning. She’s hiding, Rick. Whatever’s going on with her, I don’t like it.”

“Yeah, me neither. But she still won’t reply to my calls or messages.”

“Lo tried but I don’t think it ended well.” Kyle blew out a long breath. “I’m running out of ideas.”

“Just be there. She’ll come around eventually. You’re her family, she’s kind of stuck with you. How's Lo seem to you?”

“She’s... who the fuck am I kidding? I have no idea how she is. We keep asking her, trying to get her to open up, but she’s not making it easy.”

“But she’s going to talk to someone?”

“Yeah. Miss Tamson recommended someone. I think it’ll be good for her. Someone to talk to who isn’t close to everything, you know?”

I grumbled a reply. It wasn’t that I didn’t want Lo to have someone to talk to, I did. But I wanted to be that person for her.

Me.

“So, how’s things with you?” He changed the subject.

“Things are... okay.”

“And the stuff with Lowell?”

“I told you already, I’m handling it.”

“Yeah, I know. But what exactly does that mean? Do I need to prepare myself to get another call late at night to come and carry your sorry ass out of a party? Because if that’s where this is going, a little heads up wouldn’t go—”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“Rick, come on. Give me something. I’m worried.”

“I have it under control.”

“Famous last words.”

“Just watch Lo for me, okay? That’s what I need from you right now.”

He started mumbling over the line, but I said bye and hung up. Kyle meant well but I didn’t need a constant reminder of the shit storm circling me.

Not when I had another Delta Pi party to get ready for.

~

“PRINCE, NICE OF YOU to join us,” Zac bellowed from across the room as me and Darnell filed into the kitchen. Jamie was still talking to Jenna. He was being tight-lipped, but I got the impression all was not well with him and his small-town girl.

“Jesus, he’s trashed,” Darnell said through gritted teeth.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Get over here. We have booze and girls. What more could you want, am I right?” He slung his arm around a tall redhead and she giggled.

“Hey, Darnell,” a girl intercepted us as we made our way across the room.

“Lisa, hey. You look... hmm,” he swallowed, running a hand over his head and I frowned at him, mouthing, “Swagger, D-man?”

He gave me a hard look, and I smirked, flicking my head to Zac and the others. I’ll be over there.

“Prince,” Vinnie offered me a tight nod as I entered their circle.

“Get the guy a beer,” Zac slurred, clearly buzzed already. “In fact, get him two. He’s far too sober.”

Someone shoved two beers at me and I accepted. “You were looking good out there today, Prince.” Balor tipped his bottle in my direction. “I’ve never seen someone run a pullback crossover shot like that.”

“It was good, but it wasn’t all that,” Zac said flatly.

“Come on, Zac, you have to admit it was pretty impressive. Even Coach seemed—”

“Mac, if you don’t shut the fuck up, I swear I’ll—”

“Chill, man.” Vinnie pulled to his full height. “Mac’s just saying Prince could be the player we need to take us to the play-offs this season.”

Zac’s eyes fixed on me as he pawed at the redhead’s tits. Her face paled and she dropped her gaze, cheeks flushed with what I wanted to believe was shame, and not lust. “You think you’ve got what it takes, Prince?”

“The team’s looking good.” I played it cool. Usually, Vinnie, Balor and Mac, tried to draw the attention from me but tonight they were shining the spotlight right on me. I couldn’t help but feel like I was part of a game I didn’t understand. Not the game I’d been playing with Zac since I arrived at SU, but a different game. Which put me at a disadvantage because I didn’t know the rules yet.

“Damn right it is,” Zac sprayed beer everywhere, and the redhead shirked out of his hold.

“Ew, Zac, you got my shirt wet.”

“I’ll get something else wet, babe, if you let me.”

She went white, staring at him with disbelief.

“What?” he barked. “What the fuck are you looking at?”

“I thought...” she shook her head, backing away slowly but Zac advanced, like a predator hunting its prey.

“You thought what? That I wanted you for your stellar personality and perky tits?” he spat.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes and I caught Vinnie out of the corner of my eye. He was ready to move between them. Balor and Mac behind him. They acted like a unit. Without doubt I knew they had run interference before.

“Zac, man. Leave her, she’s no one,” Vinnie kept his voice low, trying to avoid drawing a crowd. But everyone was watching. Pretending not to be. “There’s a houseful of fresh pussy here,” he added.

Time slowed down as Zac refused to back down. He was fixated on the girl; his chest rising and falling as if he was high on the chase. The air crackled with tension as the girl started to back away slowly. Zac moved but Vinnie moved quicker, looping around him and blocking him off.

“She’s not worth it, man,” he said. Zac regarded him for a second, scratching his jaw, then said, “Yeah, you’re right. She’s an ugly bitch anyway.”

Zac Lowell really was a narcissistic piece of shit, and the need to take him down burned through me. But I needed more. More than hearsay and hazing stories. He was well protected. That much was obvious. I needed something that no one—not even his alum-donor father—could refute.

Something that would end his career at SU.