It was a little weird working casually with guys rather than girls. I didn’t know Joshua or Hank that well but they both seemed affable, but I still felt a bit shy with them. I’d never been a tom boy. I may have preferred handing tools to my father over grabbing things from the fridge for my mother, but that was only because the kitchen intimidated me. It was easy to get under foot, and I’d felt the hot splatter of grease. Following Dad around had been much more peaceful and less likely to need first aid. When it came to who I played with, I’d always gravitated to the girls. Joshua and Hank, though, seemed to be happy to consider me one of them. They joked about food and talked about television shows they liked. They were both on the JV basketball team. They had a game Friday night. Joshua managed to pull an unwilling promise to attend from me. I had no interest in sports but trying to outright refuse two of the players was a task beyond me. 

We finished the assignment easily, and when the bell rang, both boys walked out with me. Shoulder to shoulder, we headed toward gym. The boys talked over my head mostly, but they knew I was there. Though I hoped they didn’t ask me point blank like Angela, I thought maybe I’d made two new friends.

When I went to the girls’ locker room, I changed into my gym clothes. I said hello to Angela who cheerfully replied. When I met her eyes, I suddenly felt guilty. I wanted to ask her about Damien’s strange behavior but didn’t know how to broach the subject. How did a girl tell a boy’s girlfriend that he’d insisted on holding her hand? And what about the dean’s idea of rehabilitating Damien? Why was I tagged for that when she was presumably closer to him? I was so tongue-tied about how to tell her anything that I ended up not telling her anything at all.

When we exited the locker room, Coach Mueller was waiting with a red rubber arm cradled under her arm. “All right, ladies. We’re going to play a friendly game of dodge ball.”

Groans erupted from multiple feminine throats. 

“Man, why can’t we play dodge ball?” a boy on the other side loudly complained. Coach Higgons ordered the boys outside to the track. I noticed Damien wasn’t over there with the boys. 

We were split up into teams. Coach Mueller didn’t assign captains to make us go through the agony of who would be picked last. She went down the line assigning us to sides. We split and went to the far sides of the court while Coach Mueller, with Jenna’s help, placed the balls on the center line. Once Jenna was in position, the coach blew her whistle to start the game. I ran for the center line and grabbed a ball. I wasn’t particularly athletic or coordinated, but many of the other girls weren’t as well. Those with absolutely no interest in the game were quickly eliminated with Coach Mueller haranguing them for their lack of competitiveness. 

I threw multiple times. None of my throws were very hard and hit about half the girls I aimed for. One girl clearly jumped into the ball’s path when my throw went a little wide. I had to laugh at her determination to get hit.

Soon it was down to only a handful of girls, me among them. These girls were the sporty types. They played basketball or volleyball. They weren’t afraid to throw a little harder or to attempt catches. Some girls cycled on and off the court as catches were made. I hadn’t been out yet. I didn’t exactly have a burning desire to win, but my pride wouldn’t let me go out easy. 

Angela was on my team. She hadn’t taken an easy out either. She ran and dodged well. Jenna’s friend, who seemed quite sporty, was on our team as well. When she was taken out, I realized we really needed her back if we were to stay in the game. I started watching for easy balls to catch. We’d been playing for probably thirty minutes. I was slick with sweat and winded. Angela got knocked out with a ball to her side. She made a sound of pain. 

“Ang?” I called out, concerned that she’d been hurt. She walked off the court rubbing her arm. The skin was reddening where she’d been hit. I looked at the opposing team. They were all smiling, but this was no longer a playful game. Three girls on the other side had balls, and I realized they’d all chosen me as their next target. I grabbed a ball, and threw at a girl that wasn’t holding anything. I threw it underhanded for an easy catch. The girl I threw it at stepped back and dodged it instead of catching and letting me go out. 

There were two other girls still on my team in the game, Jenna among them, but the other team wasn’t paying attention to them and they were laying back letting me take the heat. All eyes were on me. I finally stilled and swallowed. Better to get it over with now and not draw it out. The three balls flew at me. But I couldn’t stay still. I wasn’t a martyr. I dropped and lunged away. All three balls missed me. I grinned triumphantly. 

The ball that hit me in the face came from my own team. 

Coach Mueller blew her whistle stopping the game. “What the hell was that Hannigan?” she shouted.

I fell to the floor. My eye stung and that side of my face burned. Angela ran onto the court and crouched by me. “Sarah, are you all right?”

I pressed my face into my bicep, panting and shaking a little. 

“The ball slipped,” Jenna said, but it was such an obvious lie. I didn’t understand why she would want to hurt me though. She’d seemed nice. Non-threatening. Now, she stood over me with her fists clenched. I couldn’t see her eyes due to the glare of her glasses. She’d practically spiked the ball into my face. 

“Hit the showers, ladies.”

I stood slowly with Angela helping me up. Coach Mueller came over and lifted my chin to look at where I’d been hit. “Let’s get you some ice,” she said.

I nodded unhappily. Coach Mueller’s office was right inside the locker room. We crowded into the small cramped space. Coach went to a mini fridge in the corner and pulled out a blue ice pack. She wrapped it in a paper towel and handed it to me. I took it and gingerly pressed it to my face. Coach nodded at a chair for me to sit. She then said, “Blackthorne, go get changed.”

“I’d like to stay with Sarah.”

“You don’t have to,” the coach countered.

“It’s okay, Ang. I’ll be fine,” I said.

She squeezed my shoulder. “Are you sure?”

I nodded and waved at her. “Yeah, go on.”

Reluctantly she left, looking back at me worriedly before exiting the office.

Coach Mueller sat at her desk and shuffled some papers. “So what did you do to piss off Hannigan?” she asked, looking at the papers she picked up.

I shrugged. “I have no idea. I’ve barely said more than hello to her.”

Coach Mueller frowned. “I hear you’re friends with Damien West.”

I sighed. “Not really, but we’re in all of the same classes, and he likes to torment me.”

“Did Damien possibly do something to Hannigan?”

I sat back in surprise at the question. Damien had pulled her chair out from under her on the first day, but I couldn’t believe she would hold a grudge against me for that. But could Damien have done something else to her? After school maybe? But still, why target me if she had a beef with him? Everyone had to know I wasn’t his friend. Suddenly I remembered Algebra class, and our strange hand holding session and could feel myself beginning to blush. If anyone had noticed that, perceptions might have changed. I certainly hadn’t acted like I hated him. 

“I don’t know,” I said, deciding not to mention the chair incident or anything else. It just didn’t seem like the right path anyway. I remembered Jenna’s clenched fists after she’d struck me. Usually that would indicate rage, but in her case, I suspected something else.

Coach Mueller pressed her lips together and laid down her papers. “Smith, you’re a good kid. I like you. So I’m gonna tell you this even though I should keep my mouth shut, steer clear of West. He’ll bring you nothing but grief.”

I dropped my head with a nod. “I know, Coach, but Damien seems intent on steering into me.”

Coach Mueller sighed and turned to the computer by her desk. “How’s your face feeling?” 

I removed the ice pack to check. “It’s still a bit sore.”

“Yeah, Hannigan slammed that ball into you. It was pretty cold-blooded.”

“But you aren’t gonna give her detention,” I said.

“She said it was an accident and students are believed over teachers. At least these students.” She stopped and dropped her eyes. “Sorry, Smith.”

“No, it’s all right. I still don’t know why she even did it.”

Girls had been filtering out of the locker room as we talked. I couldn’t hear any showers going. It looked like they were all gone. It was probably safe to go get changed. I got up and handed the ice pack back to the coach. She took it grimly. I turned to leave, but she called out to me. “Smith, be careful. You may attend Noble, but you aren’t one of those students.”

I turned back and gave her a grim nod. “Oh, I know. Trust me on that.”

Wanting to just go home, I skipped taking a shower and changed into my uniform. When I looked in a mirror, I saw that I was developing a black eye. Well, at least my nose wasn’t broken.

As I cleared the exit of the locker room, I was grabbed and spun around. I flinched and tried to bring up my arms to protect myself.

“What the hell happened?” Damien demanded, pushing me against the wall and bringing us nose-to-nose.