Changing the game, p.1
Changing The Game, page 1
Changing The Game
Carmen Rosales
Copyright © 2022 by Carmen Rosales
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Book cover and logos by: IndiesagePr
To my husband and children thank you for putting up with me and for all your support.
Preface
I was the fat chubby girl everyone made fun of.
He was the gorgeous player everyone wanted.
I was a nobody.
He was the basketball star destined to be great.
He said I was enough.
That my beauty was skin deep.
I thought I would never see Dominique Reed again after he broke me. He destroyed me. It took two years for me to pick up the pieces and put myself back together. We were never supposed to see each other again but Karma had other plans.
Everyone thought he was a god.
But I knew he was the devil.
Trigger Warning
Dear Reader,
Please note, this is a Steamy Romance and is a book that is not part of my Dark Room. However, this book may contain themes that can cause triggers for some. The triggers include mentions of depression, some acts of bullying, self-esteem issues with weight and self image. If any of these types of themes troubles you. Please do not read.
If not, I hope you enjoy Sabrina’s journey in finding true love.
If you or know anyone you know that is suffering from mental health and needs help. Please call National Suicide Prevention Lifeline
Hours: Available 24 hours. Languages: English, Spanish. 800-273-8255
Contents
1. Sabrina
2. Dominique
3. Sabrina
4. Dominique
5. Sabrina
6. Dominique
7. Dominique
8. Sabrina
9. Sabrina
10. Dominque
11. Sabrina
12. Sabrina
13. Sabrina
14. Sabrina
15. Matt
Two years later…
16. Sabrina
17. Sabrina
18. Matt
19. Sabrina
20. Sabrina
21. Sabrina
22. Sabrina
23. Dominique
24. Sabrina
25. Sabrina
26. Dominique
27. Sabrina
28. Dominique
29. Sabrina
30. Sabrina
31. Sabrina
32. Dominique
33. Sabrina
34. Dominique
Also by Carmen Rosales
About the Author
Acknowledgments
Sabrina
Four Months Until Graduation
Running through the front doors that lead into Prescott High, I almost trip but right myself, just in time to avoid being late for my class. My mother being stuck in traffic is to blame. I smooth my uniform blouse that has ridden up on my stomach over the waist of my skirt. Laughter can be heard from my right. I angle my head to see who is laughing. Just as expected, a group of girls from the dance team are pointing in my direction.
"You wouldn't trip if you weren't so fat. Your stomach probably got in the way," Julia says as she giggles.
"Yeah, Porker. You need to stop eating all the food. Your uniform is getting smaller, or maybe it's just you're getting bigger. Good job trying to put your shirt back down, but let's face it, it's going to just ride the fuck back up." Melissa sneers.
Fucking bitches. They always find something to say about my weight or how I look. I know I am by no means skinny or even thick. I know I'm considered fat and overweight. But that's just who I am. I'm comfortable being the way I am. I eat what I want when I want, and I'm okay with that. Food makes me happy. So why not? I never really cared what people thought of how I looked. That was until I realized I had a huge crush on Dominique Reed since freshman year. The star basketball player. The bad boy with tattoos with an amazing body and a beautiful face.
The laughter continues, and when I look behind them, sure enough, the guys from the basketball team are leaning against the wall by the lockers, joining in on the fun of deriding me. My face turns white when Dominique shakes his head and then turns around to talk to his friend Josh. I am so embarrassed I have made a complete fool of myself. I ignore the excessive taunting and walk toward my locker.
"Hey! Watch out, everyone! Wide load coming through!"
I stiffen and turn around to see Jake laughing. "Fuck you!" I retort.
"In your dreams, fat ass. Not even with someone else's dick."
"Yo, Jake. Back off, man. Leave her alone," Matt says, coming up next to me.
"Just having a little fun. It's all good."
Jake is on the football team with my best friend, Matt, but a total douche. I wonder how he tolerates him. Since third grade, Matt has been my best friend and always sticks up for me. I'm an only child, and since I don't have any other friends, he always stood up for me when I was teased or made fun of at school… or basically, anywhere we went.
He was heavier in middle school, but football has been a godsend. He is still what you would call husky, but since football he has slimmed down a lot, and the fact that he is a jock. Kinda gives him a free pass in the fat joke department. As for me, I am not into any sports. My strong suits are organizing, time management, and motivating others. It's what I'm good at and also getting good grades. My mother is proud of me, and that's all that matters. I can deal with everything else.
"Don't worry about Jake; I'll handle him."
"It's okay, Matty. He just goes overboard sometimes. He can be downright annoying. Becoming a total asshole. He is almost just as bad as the prissy bitches on the dance team."
He chuckles.
"We only have four months to go, and then it's all over. You won't have to hear or see these people again. Of course, except me."
I smile, closing my locker. "I can never forget you, Matty. We have been friends forever. Have you decided on a school yet?"
"I'm waiting to hear back from them this week, and then I'll let you know, so we can always keep in touch. Are you sure going to California is a good idea?"
His expression tells me he is still hung up on me going to California. My dream since middle school was to get into the marketing program at Berkeley. I finally was accepted with a full ride.
"We've gone through this, Matty. Wherever you go, I promise to keep in touch and visit every break."
"Promise," he says with a hopeful expression.
"Always."
The rest of the day goes smoothly except for more fat jokes at lunch but nothing out of the norm. After classes are done for the day, I'm waiting to turn in the school's mascot costume to Mr. Hoffman when a sophomore I recognize as Jim leaves the office in a rush with the look of annoyance on his features as he passes me. Mr. Hoffman is the sports coordinator for the band and extra-curricular sports activities. The school mascot is a husky split between two students, but no one knows who is inside the costume. It worked perfectly for me in my case. I could attend the games without anyone really knowing that I was really there. I didn't care; I got to act silly in a husky costume. It was better than being called Sabrina the Mammoth or Porker all the time.
"Come in!" Mr. Hoffman shouts.
"Hello, I'm here to turn in the costume as required since football season is officially over."
"Sabrina, right?"
"Yes." He sits in his chair with a thump, giving an exasperated sigh.
"He quit on me."
Confused, I say, "I'm sorry? Who?"
He waves his hand. "Jim. He was the other mascot for the basketball games, and they are in the finals, about to win it all. And now I have no mascot. It's too late to find someone last minute, especially at the end of the year."
I sigh. What the heck. I always wanted to see Dominique play without anyone noticing me. It will be my best-kept secret. No one will know I was even there.
"I'll do it."
"What?"
"I said. I'll do it. I have nothing else to do, and I am already set for college. All that is left is finals."
He gazes at me, relieved. "Are you sure? There is only one away game and five games left. Then it's over."
"Okay. No problem."
"Just make sure you have a ride to the away game. It's one town over.”
"Gotcha."
"Here is the schedule, and if you need anything, you know where my office is."
Most students would balk at the idea of being the mascot. I loved it because it was like having an invisible cloak, like in Harry Potter, where you were totally invisible for a little while. Now I get to be invisible and watch the boy I find attractive to play. I don't think he even knows my real name, except for Porker. He has never called me that, or by my real name, for that matter. When they would taunt me and call me names, he would stay quiet. If I looked over and met his gaze. He would quickly look away, dismissing me. I felt deflated at first my freshman year, but it was better than him laughing along with the others or him actually doing the same. I was ok with that. I briskly walk up to Matt’s car in the student parking lot.
"Is everything okay?" Matt says as I open the passenger door of his classic Mustang.
"Yeah, perfect. I just had something to wrap up before graduation."
He shrugs his shoulders and drives to my house to drop me off. Matt has always dropped me off after school since getting his license. I was so happy when he offered. My mom always works late, and I have to busy myself after school or just sit and wait. I tried to ride a bike but was run off the road and was almost seriously injured. So, that was the end of my bike riding days. If I had to wait for my mother to pick me up, it was usually a three-to four-hour wait that included more fat jokes and bullying. Matty always felt bad for me, but I always told them they were immature and fucked up anyway. It didn't faze me except when Dominique was around.
It's the only time I feel embarrassed because I had to check my retorts in my defense. I didn't want the guy I had secretly crushed on for four years to see me sink to their level of inaneness. No one knew of my crush, of course. Not even Matt. He would probably tell me to dream on and that I was crazy to think a guy like Dominique Reed would even look at me twice. To avoid that conversation, it was best to keep it a secret. I mean, why should anyone need to know? It's not like I would run into him after high school anyway.
2
Dominique
My hand wraps around blonde hair, making her arch her back.
"Yes-yes, Dominique. Deeper."
I grip my other hand on her right hip as she pushes against me, and my condom-clad cock sinks deeper. I have to look at her side profile to remember her name. It's Julia this time, but other times it's Melissa. I don't have a girlfriend or even want one. Too much drama I don't have time for. I have a hard time getting up for an early practice. If you want to be the best in basketball or any sport, you must practice. Like LeBron, Jordan, and even Stephen Curry.
"More! Please, I'm close," Julia pleads.
"Shh! Someone will hear you."
I hardly fuck Julia because she always gets loud. Like, she wants everyone to know we occasionally fuck. She and Melissa give it up, and I like to fuck. It's a simple transaction. I pound into her three times, and it sends her over the edge to her release. I grunt four more times, pumping into her, then I'm done. I pull out, dispose of the condom and slide my dick into my shorts.
"That was amazing."
"Just keep quiet next time. If you can't, then we can't do this anymore. It's the last time I'm going to say it."
Her eyes go wide. "Sorry. I don't want us to stop," she purrs. She quickly fixes herself, and we move out of the dance room.
"I don't want Jake to know. So don't worry. It was just so good, Dom. You make me come so good."
"I gotta go. See you later."
I don't know how Jake can't see that Julia is fucking someone else, but that is none of my business. I'm on the basketball team, and he’s on the football team, so I don't have to look at his fucking face. Not that I feel bad about it. It's not my fault that his girl likes to ride my cock. I don't like him anyway. He's a total dick. He thinks his shit doesn't stink. It's a win for me on both fronts. I don't like Julia either, but she has a nice body, and as much as she is ugly as a person, she is nice to look at. Same as Melissa. Both shallow bitches that love to fuck jocks for the clout and a guy like me has enough clout because I'm the star player on the team. According to the female population at school? I'm also easy on the eyes. I have girls stuffing panties and phone numbers inside my locker every morning. It is really fucking annoying trying to get the janitor to clean that shit up.
"Hey, man. What's up?"
Josh comes up to me as I walk to my mother's Mercedes. She lets me borrow it for school since my father bought her a new Maserati.
"Nothing. Heading home."
"Is your dad going to get you your new truck?"
"Not until I officially graduate and start the semester in the fall."
"Fuck, man. That must suck, but at least your dad is good for it. My parents made me get a job to get my Z1 Camaro. The insurance is through the roof."
"Hey, at least you got your car sitting in the driveway. Mine is waiting at the dealership."
My father runs a PR firm and has made it big. His biggest expectation is for me to make it in the NBA. He has connections, but I have to do the work to get drafted. I need footage and stats to make it. You can't just show up because your father knows someone. It just doesn't work that way.
It was the plan and has always been the plan. I eat, live, and breathe basketball. My problem. I can't wake up early enough to get extra practice in, and I get sidetracked by other bullshit with my friends, causing me to sleep late. When I don't practice, my technique suffers, and I lag. Hitting the weights has been a huge help in getting some size. I eat like a monster because I burn so many calories on the court. At six foot seven, it's even harder. My mom complains to my dad that keeping the fridge stocked is a challenge. I consume everything to keep me properly fueled for practice and game days.
"Practice in the morning?" Josh asks before driving off.
"Yeah."
"Make sure you wake up this time," he jokes.
I flip him off, getting inside the driver's side of my mother's Merc.
It's game day, and I have been late all three times in the morning to practice with Josh. Fuck me. I need to figure this shit out, and fast. This isn't going to work in college. I have been accepted to the University of Alabama. They have a great basketball program, and it's closer to home in Savanna, Georgia. Prescott High is known for its athletes. The best get into the best schools. I wanted to have the full college experience, be closer to home, and have a chance to be selected in the NBA draft. The University of Alabama is the right move. So far, Josh and I are both attending, and at least I have my boy on the team. We have known each other since freshman year. We both have the same focus and love the game.
I slam the door to the locker room.
"Ready, Reed?" Coach asks.
"Always, Coach."
"Remember, focus and just have fun. No pressure.”
Yeah, right.
You don't have your father breathing down your neck to be the best. My future is riding on these last games. My stats is what scouts look at going into college. They look at your high school and college to see how you measure up against the rest. How many points do you make in a game, assists, and three-point shots in a single game.
Everyone is on the court, including the coach. I'm making my way out of the locker room toward the hallway. A hallway I thought was empty. Something furry gray and white catches my attention in my peripheral vision. I look down to my left.
"Oh shit!"
The head of a husky is raised to cover someone's head with a dark, straight ponytail. I stop to take a good look.
"Can you please just keep walking and stop looking at me?"
"What?" I ask.
"You're not supposed to see me. I thought the coast was clear. No one is supposed to see me."
I've heard that voice before but can't figure out whose it is. Obviously, it's a girl, and I can't recognize her because she is wearing a big furry costume with the head covering her face.
"I think it's a little too late now."
"Fuck." She lowers the head of the costume, and I smirk.
Sabrina, the poor girl, gets shit from everyone because of her weight. I'm amazed she doesn't cry when they call her names or make lewd comments about her appearance. She is very pretty with her perfectly arched eyebrows, small nose, and plump lips. She's smart too, from what I've heard. The teachers always use her work as an excellent example to show how the weekly lessons should be done.
