Beauty and the Baller (Strangers in Love)

Excitement fills the gym a few days later. The cheerleaders finish their dance routine to “Another One Bites the Dust,” maroon-and-gold plaid skirts swishing as they run off the court. The crowd claps, standing on their feet and whooping. Several students hold up signs. GO, FIGHT, WIN, BOBCATS! Then FREE LAMBERT!

Sabine sits on one of the bottom rows among students, her eyes trained on the entrance of the concession area, where I’m with the players and coaches.

Bruno adjusts his brown fedora. “Do I look lit, Ms. Morgan?”

“Of course. You all do!” I put my eyes on each of the players. There’s about twenty of them dressed in suits, the seams loosened by Sabine and me and Sonia. Not everyone wanted to do the dance. Those players are waiting on the other side of the gym in their uniforms. They’ll run out in the middle of the song and pump the crowd up.

“One minute till we go!” Caleb shouts as he stands next to the sound system.

Toby, Milo, and Bruno line up at the entrance.

I glance over, and Ronan is on his cell, his face animated as he talks to someone.

“Wait a second,” I tell Caleb and turn to go to Ronan.

“He doesn’t care about us,” Melinda says as she slides in next to me. “He’s itching to leave, and you know it. He’s going to go somewhere better, and then you won’t have your darling anymore.”

You can’t argue with a scorned woman or whatever she thinks she is, but I know how to handle her. Be direct. No mercy . . . “Fuck off, Melinda.”

“So rude,” she snips behind my back as I hurry off.

“Sounds good! I can’t wait to see you.” Ronan clicks off his cell and turns. “They ready?”

I study his face, wondering who he was talking to. I nod. “Yep.”

I wave at Caleb to start the music.

We watch from the sideline under the basketball goal as the players swagger out on the court. They get into a line formation, then dance, shaking their butts and doing the lasso. In unison, they fall to the floor and do push-ups as the crowd cheers. They hop up, popping and doing the robot. Hats and sunglasses fly off and scatter on the floor. The end of the song approaches, and the suits burst open. Jackets and pants fly off and are swung around their heads, then tossed to the ground. The people in the stands jump to their feet as the guys dance the last part in their uniforms, then move to the stands, slapping hands.

“Bloody hell, they make a grown woman wanna be in high school again,” Sonia says. “Oh, wait, we are!” She laughs and gives me a hug. “You did great, Nova.”

“I didn’t do much.”

“Ah, but you’re the one with the patience. Those guys adore you.”

Warmth fills me.

A few feet away, Ronan and Principal Lancaster are in a deep discussion, their backs to us. They stride out farther in the concession area and look outside through the glass doors. My heart drops when I see several TV vans and reporters climbing up the steps to the gym, cameras aimed our direction.

I frown. I had them scheduled for five o’clock—and they were supposed to show up at the field house.

The players wrap up with the students and jog into the concession area, high-fiving and patting each other as they laugh.

Toby sees me and rushes over. “Where’s Coach? The crowd is chanting his name . . .” He stops when he sees the people outside. “What the heck? I thought they were coming later.”

I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

“Something must have happened,” Toby says as Bruno and Milo join us.

I leave them to head to Ronan. He’s frowning as he looks at his phone. “Why are they here?” I ask.

Principal Lancaster grimaces. “Apparently someone tipped them off that Coach might be leaving.”

My forehead furrows. “How did they know we’d be in the gym?”

Principal Lancaster exhales. “We announced the pep rally online, so . . .” He lifts his shoulders and looks at Ronan. “Look. They’re on school grounds uninvited. I can call the police or go out there myself and tell them to leave. It’s up to you, Coach.”

His lips tighten. “It doesn’t matter. It got out. They’re here, and I’ll have to deal with it sooner or later. Reporters don’t just disappear.”

“What can I do?” I ask.

“Nothing. It’s already been blasted online.” He shows me an article, but I don’t have time to read it before Toby is next to me.

“Coach? What do they want?”

Ronan flinches, then opens his mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. Unease is written all over his face. With a grimace, he strides away from us to the glass doors and steps outside.

Foreboding crawls over me as I follow him.

He can’t face this alone.