"Dad, I do not want to go!" I stand in front of my mirror, combing through my hair. "Just please go with Wren!"
My dad got tickets to see the Lakers for his birthday. He was originally going with my older brother, Wren, who decided to get the flu yesterday.
"I'd rather not have him blowing chunks on the players," my dad chuckles.
I cringe at his word choice and readjust my large Lakers jersey. "At least tell me that Lamar Odom is going to be there."
"He's playing for the Knicks now, honey," my dad laughs.
"How about Michael Jordan?"
There's a loud bang that echoes through the house. My dad and I both run over to Wren's room at the end of the hallway to make sure he's okay.
"This is bull, dad! I flipping love the Lakers and Riley doesn't even appreciate basketball! I should be-"
Instead of being able to finish his argument, he has to unload his already empty stomach. I turn away in disgust.
"Riley is going. You are staying home with mom."
"Or," I interject, "I stay to take care of Wren and mom goes with you."
"Not happening!" my mom yells from all the way downstairs.
Needless to say, she hates basketball. And she hates my dad at basketball games. He gets far too into the games and usually ends up throwing his popcorn at the court. It's embarrassing.
My mother and I thumb wrestled to see who had to go with. I lost, obviously. However, I still don't think it's fair. She's the one who got him the tickets in the first place.
"Let's get going," my dad says and pats my back before going down the stairs.
I sigh and follow him. We say goodbye to my mom just before we leave. It's about a half an hour drive to the stadium for us, yet it feels like an eternity. I imagine all of the different ways my dad could embarrass me on the way. There's about seventy different combinations.
After making our way through different crowds and ticket booths and the occasional over-spirited Lakers fan, we make it to our seats. We have court-side seats, which is why my dad has been so pumped for this game.
"I'm going to the bathroom," I announce.
My dad nods, his eyes glued to the players as they warmup. I stand up from the seat and navigate my way to the closest bathroom. It's going to be a long night. Maybe I could just stay in the bathroom the whole time? It's not like my dad would notice.
I send a quick text to my best friend, Sam. She's with her boyfriend, Zander. The three of us have been super close since pre-school. Sam and Zander have been dating for three months, finally attempting to break out of that friend zone. I'm just worried that when they break up, I'll be in the middle.
Finishing up in the bathroom, I decide to finally head back to our seats. The first thing I notice is that the people next to is have arrived. The second thing I notice is that one of them is Asher Westfield.
Let me tell you a little something about Asher Westfield. He's a mystery to most, me included. Apparently, his family is really wealthy. You'd never be able to guess it by his same old white t-shirts and dark skinny jeans. Plus, his combat boots look like something he found at a thrift shop.
I've never talked to Asher Westfield, though only a few have. He's an independent person to put it into terms. Some might even define him as a loner.
Even if he is a loner, Asher stands to be one of the most popular guys at my high school. All of the girls love him, in an obsessive way. I've decided that it's his mystery that draws people in. Who wouldn't want to be his friend?
I can't forget to mention his charming good looks. He's easily one of the most attractive boys at our school. With blonde hair, long legs, and plump lips, he's irresistible.
My heart is thumping erratically as I have to walk through the small row. I'm a klutz, and falling in front of the coolest boy at school isn't ideal. The row isn't wide enough and I have to side-step my way. Asher and the man he is with both stand as I pass.
In the moment I'm face-to-face with Asher, I can barely breathe. He smiles, a stunning smile that almost makes me freeze. Did I say almost? I meant I actually froze.
His eyebrows raise while I'm stuck just scanning his even more perfect face in person. I don't even register how much I'm embarrassing myself, but I surely will in about two seconds.
"You okay?"
The first two words Asher Westfield speaks to me. His voice is like chocolate, but better. Oh gosh..I need to take a chill pill.
I cough awkwardly and nod my head. "I'm sorry." I take my seat immediately, not to keen on the fact he's right next to me.
"That was weird of you, Riles," my dad comments.
"I didn't realize!" I sass back fiercely, my face reddening.
Asher chuckles from next to me. He has such a chill aura that it makes me more stressed than anything. Why do I have to be so weird?
"Wait, you go to Ventura, don't you?"
My heart stops just then as Asher Westfield addresses me. I'm not apart of any club or sport at Ventura, so naturally I just blend in. To have Asher recognize me makes me want to squeal.
I take a deep breath to remain cool and collected. "Yeah."
"I'm Asher," he introduces, sticking out his hand.
I glance at his large hand and back to his face before shaking the hand. "Riley."
He nods and that's that. Our conversation ends. Just like that. It may have only lasted about a minute, but it has my head spinning. That, my friends, is the effect of Asher Westfield.
The game starts, but I'm unable to focus on that. I think about Asher's arm that is on the armrest next to me and the seconds his arm brushes against my own.
My dad's outbursts start immediately. The man with Asher, probably his dad, joins my dad in the yelling. They yell to one another, seeming to be getting along with their mutual hate for the referees.
Not long into the game, they introduce themselves to each other. I learn that he is actually Asher's father. Throughout their conversations, Asher and I are stuck in the middle...including when they're yelling at the players and the refs and the coaches. The whole shebang.
"Love basketball," Asher mutters as we all sit down when the buzzer goes off.
I laugh, maybe a bit too hard. Before I get a chance to say something, he starts talking to his dad. I sigh and listen to my dad talk about all of the messed up plays.
The halftime show is exciting. There's a poodle that can jump through hoops and open a treat box with its paws like a human. The cheerleaders do a short little dance before the game restarts.
It's a bit boring, though I'm entertained as my dad and Asher's dad scream at the ref who actually turns around to give them the finger. Whether that could get him fired or not, I don't know, but it has me and Asher dying.
We stop laughing immediately when our faces show up...on the freaking overhead. Asher Westfield and I are on the kiss cam.
I can't hear anything due to the screams from the crowd. My heart is beating so loudly that I'm sure Asher can hear it. I run my palms over my thighs, glancing at the boy next to me.
He smiles, looking so effortlessly handsome. It makes me want to just lean over the chair and kiss his beautiful lips. I've never done anything like this before.
How could I just kiss Asher Westfield? And in front of all these people.. My dad is sitting right next to me for goodness sake!
"Let's do this."
I'm caught off guard as two soft hands hold either sides of my face. His soft lips touch my own, causing my heart to leap to my throat. Instead of just giving me a quick peck, Asher starts full-on kissing me like a real man.
And oh boy can he kiss.
He pulls back abruptly, a smirk on his face. I blush and glance up at my father who is looking at me with wide eyes. I shoot him an innocent smile, completely mortified.
Asher looks pleased as he sits back in his chair. He's acting like we didn't just kiss in front of the whole stadium.. including our parents. Not to mention, we're practically strangers.
With my father stare looking at me in shock, I stand up and rush to the bathroom. My cheeks are flushed and my lips are plump.
I can't believe I just did that.
Love basketball.
~~
AN:
when will this happen to me?
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