On The Rebound (Steinbeck U #1) - L.A. Cotton Page 0,82

“You should go. He’s an excellent teacher.”

Crap.

I don’t know why I said that.

From the way Zach’s brow was raised, he didn’t either.

“Come on, Elsa.”

“E- Elsa?” She blushed deeper.

“Yeah, you remind me of Elsa. You know, from Frozen.”

“I know what Frozen is.” Her shyness gave way to a blinding smile but quickly fell. “The kids at school all call me Gandalf.”

“Well, the kids at school sounds like ass—” I shot Zach a warning look, and he corrected himself. “Douchebags, they sound like douchebags.”

I watched the two of them walk off to the basketball hoop. Zach snagged a ball from the huge crate and bounced it in front of him. Jasmine watched him with awe sparkling in her eyes. I couldn’t believe how good he’d been with her. How easy their banter came. I’d struggled to get her to say two words to me, yet she’d talked to Zach like he was an old friend. I tried not to take it personally, but it was hard. I wanted to build a rapport with her, to help her.

The lingering pang of dejection didn’t stop me from smiling as Zach talked her through a couple of moves. He ducked and dodged around her, cutting from side to side and putting on quite the show. So much so that everyone else in the yard stopped to watch the SU basketball star teach a fourteen-year-old girl, looking at him like he hung the moon, how to shoot hoops.

But something even more magical happened.

Jasmine snatched the ball from him and began dribbling it from side to side as she approached the hoop. “Take the shot,” someone yelled, and she pushed off on one foot, sailing into the air right as she released the ball. It hit the backboard, dropping clean through the hoop.

The whole yard applauded while Zach stood there, looking dumbfounded.

“Holy crap, Elsa’s got moves.” He grinned over at me and I couldn’t help but grin back as I approached them.

It felt like old times.

A glimpse of the boy who had spent hours with me as I dragged him all over Bay View, taking photograph after photograph. The boy who lay with me up with the treehouse, holding me as I cried for a father I’d been convinced didn’t love me.

“I... I practice sometimes,” Jasmine stuttered.

“What happened to ‘I don’t play sport’,” I teased but instantly realized my mistake. She folded into herself, averting her gaze to the ground. “Jasmine, I didn’t mean—”

“Hey, Elsa, how about you and me challenge some of the guys to a little two on two?”

Her head snapped up, her bewitching eyes full of wonder and awe. “Seriously? You want to play… with me?”

“Hell yeah, I do.”

I dropped back, kicking myself for messing it up again. Zach caught my eyes and mouthed, “Relax, she’ll come around.”

But I wasn’t so sure. If it wasn’t for Zach showing up, I doubted Jasmine would have spoken two words to me.

“He’s good with her.” Freya joined me on the bench.

“Apparently so.”

She chuckled. “He’s a college athlete who looks like... well, that. Don’t write yourself off too soon. I wouldn’t have paired you with Jasmine if I didn’t think you have what it takes to reach her.”

I managed a small nod, watching as Jasmine and Zach ran circles around another volunteer and a tall boy with floppy hair. Laughter filled the yard: Zach and Jasmine’s, their captivated audience. She seemed so carefree, so different to the girl who had turned up almost an hour ago.

She wasn’t the only one though. Zach looked happy. Gone was the angry brooding guy I’d bumped into at the beginning of semester, replaced with a guy who smiled and took the time to teach Jasmine and the boy his best moves. It wasn’t hard to believe he was the captain of the Scorpions. He oozed leadership but wielded it with humility. He wasn’t cocksure or conceited like so many athletes. He seemed genuinely happy to be here.

And I honestly didn’t know what to do with that.

On the one hand, I wanted to hate him a little bit more. He’d always turned his back on basketball. Rejected his destiny as the third Messiah to pursue a career in college ball. But watching him, seeing how easy he glided across the court and handled the ball, I knew I was witnessing something special.

It made my heart ache, knowing that my Zach, the boy who once refused to conform and walk in his brother and father’s footsteps, was gone. Because I knew enough about the