The Game

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I pretended to read a text that did not exist.

"Act normal," Neilah hissed.

"I am normal," I whispered, right as my fingers fumbled and I almost dropped my phone.

"Wassup, Colby," Chris said when he reached us, dapping my best friend.

"Always good," Colby said. "Hey, you remember Aliya, right?"

Chris's eyes swung to me. For a half-beat his face went blank like he was scrolling through folders in his head. "Uh... Coach's daughter?" he said finally, smile easy. "Yeah, from the gym."

Something small in me folded. My smile stayed, but it thinned at the edges.

"That's me," I said, even.

He snapped his fingers like another file had opened. "You the one who saved my life with that shoelace last week."

"Guilty."

He laughed — that boyish, surprised sound — and then made the exact mistake I'd hoped he wouldn't. "And you the same one who stumbled after and... y'know." He dragged a hand down his face, wincing. "Hand landed where it shouldn't. My bad bringing that up."

Neilah full-palmed her forehead. Colby made a low trumpet noise. Heat rushed up my neck so fast I could've powered the hallway lights.

"It was an accident," I said, eyes on my shoe. "Gravity was on demon time."

"Nah, you good. Like I said, you not the first one who's tried," he said quickly, palms up like surrender. "Hey — it's good to see you, Aliya." He said my name careful like he was trying it on. Then he overrode the moment by doing the thing that made me want to kick his shin and hug him at the same time. "We seeing you at practice tomorrow, water girl?"

The words landed like a slap in silk gloves. I smiled, but it felt like paper.

"Mm-hmm," I said, eyes sliding past him to Colby so he wouldn't see my face fall.

"A'ight. I'll catch y'all," he said, dapping Colby again and giving me a little nod before heading off.

As soon as he was far enough away, I let my shoulders drop.

"Okay, so not a disaster," Neilah said carefully.

"Except for the part where I got demoted to water girl again," I muttered, stuffing a book into my bag too hard. "Like I don't have a name or a brain."

Colby slung an arm around me and squeezed. "Then we make him learn both. Today."

"Maybe." I wasn't ready to trust hope with something that mattered.

We slid toward English. On the way, Neilah looped back to her routine. "I'm thinking front aerial after the ripple — clean, sharp — then a switch leap into a drop and a full. It's the transition that's killing me."

"Put the full after the drop," Colby said, suddenly coach-brained. "Let the crowd gasp, then punch."

Neilah blinked. "That might actually be hard."

"You welcome."

We cut into class as the warning bell sighed. I took my usual seat by the window, because the view of the oaks made it easier to breathe. Mrs. Kenneth banged a stack of papers against the desk like a cymbal and announced, "If you are inside this room, you are now silent."

Two seconds later, the door opened. August Jackson slipped in with his usual brand of disrespect — dimples on, uniform untucked, lazy swagger tuned to maximum. He clocked the empty chair beside me and that private smile showed up, the one that said I'm about to be annoying on purpose.