"Are they actually losing?" Brooklyn asked, pointing at the score countdown on the board.
"The game just started, Lyn. It's barely been half an hour." Jayce chuckled.
I was painfully aware of every single minute that passed as I stared mindlessly at the game, waiting for it to end.
"Do you think they'll win?" Jacob asked her, as the cheer squad clapped for nothing specific.
The room was bustling with chatter, a stark contrast to the last time I was here. An invisible line separated it into two sides. Across from our stadium seats, the Charters' supporters came in large crowds, faithfully dressed in red and white, and cheered on their players. According to Jayce, they received extra credit for school spirit.
On the other side of the court, our school paled in comparison. We were significantly outnumbered and we were scattered all over the long rows of seats, wearing our random colors.
The differences between our school and Charters extended to the basketball court as well. The players of the visiting team were connected and seemed to anticipate each other's moves to respond accurately. Our team lacked chemistry and got distracted at the slightest movement from the crowd.
"Hard to tell," Jayce said, looking intently at the court as if she could see something beyond the constant back-and-forths of the players. "Bradley's nervous and cannot make a good shot to save his life. I think it shows that we've missed a couple of weeks of practice."
Bradley had replaced Jimmy after the first few minutes of the game. As usual, he had been benched after starting a fight.
"Where's our coach, anyway?" Jacob pushed up his sleeves to counter the warm temperature in the gym tonight.
"I think I heard that he might come back soon. He took a break to deal with a divorce," Jayce explained.
It was becoming increasingly harder to tune out their conversations, especially since they made it a point to ask me random questions when I least expected it and asking to repeat themselves more than twice felt ridiculous.
"Esther and Renée are not taking it well," Brooklyn added. "I babysit them on weekends someti— Nice!"
Bradley had just dodged several Charters players and scored. The opposite team had learned to think of him as the weak link and had let down their guards around him.
Our little crowd cheered for him as if they had never doubted him even though we all did.
His shot appeared to shift the entire demeanor of the team. They now seemed to want to impress him by making good shots as well and he humored them by congratulating them every time they did. Like children, they seemed to live off his feedback and seek his praise.
I held back a yawn. It felt like I had been sitting here forever and I longed to be in my room and sleep for a year. But I wanted to be here to support Arson.
Even though our team was now many points ahead of the other one and we were nearing the end, I could see that he was nervous through the mask of confidence he wore for his teammates.
"Does Jimmy ever stay in for an entire game?"
"Not that I can remember." Jayce laughed, fiddling with the wristband on her wrist. "I don't think it's his fault at this point. He can't seem to manage not fighting back at the slightest insult."
As Jayce and Brooklyn continued to chat about Jimmy, Jacob turned to me and seemed to notice that my nods were forced and inauthentic.
"This goes on forever," Jacob said with a cautious tone. as if he were testing me to check that I was indeed listening.
I nodded to confirm that I was.
"Our pickup basketball games after school were way more fun." He leaned back in his seat and wore a reminiscing smile on his lips.
"You never lasted ten minutes, Jake. You complained about the heat in the middle of winter."
"I didn't say playing was fun." He scowled at me for making fun of his weakness. "But it was fun seeing you attempt to beat Riley at sports."
"I wouldn't dream of trying."
Riley put a lot of effort into anything she tried. This made her especially great at sports and at pissing off the boys in her grade.
She tried to teach me everything she knew but my silly brain refused to pick up on anything that required dedication. Therefore, she usually overshadowed me at most things.
But even now, as I thought about it, I felt more pride than envy.
When the referee finally signaled that the game was over, as happy as I was that our team had won, I was even happier to leave the scorching heat.
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I let out an anxious sigh as I read the names of my group members, the next morning.
My eyes skimmed the names of my group mates until a particular one captured my attention: Victoria.
It killed off the last bit of enthusiasm I had about the project if I ever had any at all. Mr. Andrews definitely did me no favors.
Mr. Andrews asked us to sit with our groups, to get acquainted, and to start making plans to get to know each other better.
The room erupted in chaos and chairs scraped the ceramic floor tiles as the students stood and moved around to sit with their group mates, all the while grumbling about not being with their friends. Mr. Andrews was not fazed. His usual cordial smile was plastered on his face.
I settled down in an empty seat with Matthew, Jayce, Victoria, and Henry. Victoria did not appear particularly happy about the arrangement either but Matthew was pleased.
"Let's do this thing," Matthew said, pumping his fist in the air.
He was the only one remotely enthusiastic about the project.
"Why are you so happy?" Jayce asked, dragging her chair closer to ours.
"As long as we're not with Bradley, this is perfect. Imagine having to be friends with that guy."
"He looks like a good person to me." Jayce looked at Bradley fist-bumping Arson.
"Well, don't fall for it," Matthew huffed and shoved his hands in the pockets of his bright orange hoodie.
"Does this have to do with the fact that he showed you guys up, yesterday?"
Matthew scowled at Jayce and ignored the question.
Henry cleared his throat to call them back to the goal of this group meeting. His dark hair fell over his brow and was combed down as if he wanted to hide behind it—another person who did not seem excited over the idea of his grades relying on his ability to make new friends.
Everyone knew his name because Mrs. Heathers loved calling on him to respond to her frequent quiz questions or to brag about his grades.
Jayce turned to him and gave him a small wave. "Hi. I think we met in Anthropology class last year," she said, to which he simply nodded, staring intently at his book like he would melt into it if he tried hard enough.
His black-rimmed glasses appeared almost too big for his face and he continuously pushed it up to stay on his nose.
"I guess we could meet up after school and drill each other with questions," Jayce proposed. "Or we could simply let this happen as naturally as possible. I think that would be the best way to develop any meaningful friendship. Besides, we have an entire month."
Everyone piped in with opinions and ideas, but Victoria remained silent. Her ponytail was almost as high as her chin.
"Do you have any ideas, Victoria?" Jayce asked her.
Victoria looked up from her desk as if breaking out of a trance. Without her cheerleading outfit, she seemed much less intimidating and more vulnerable
"No, I think you're right. We should let it happen naturally."
I looked at her in surprise. I had expected her to take over and act like she knew better than the rest of us.
Jayce also seemed surprised by Victoria's reaction but shrugged it off better than I did.
"Okay then, we're on the same page," Jayce concluded when the bell rang.
I stayed behind, as everyone else filed out of the classroom.
After I helped him grade assignments and organize his stack of papers, I rearranged the desks and my mind slipped into its usual state of distraction until Mr. Andrews knocked on the desk I was about to lift up.
"I'm sorry, I spaced out."
"Does that happen often?" he asked, leaning against a desk I had just aligned.
"Occasionally," I said, suspicious of his questions.
He nodded as to indicate that he understood the meaning beyond my words. "Too many thoughts?"
I scoffed. "My mind is a maze of incoherent thoughts."
He smiled at the answer and his eyes lit up with an idea. "Avery, could you get a few books for me from the library before you leave?"
"Of course," I said and he scribbled book titles on a scrap of paper from his desk.
When I returned to the classroom, I was carrying a stack of six books.
"Couldn't find the last one." I cautiously placed them on his desk.
"Oh, they're not for me," he said with his permanent smile. "They're for you."
"For me? Are you giving more homework as thanks for the help?" I joked.
"Homework?" He seemed horrified that I would ever think of reading as homework. "See them as a way to chase away the thoughts when they get overwhelming."
I knew what he meant by overwhelming because even as I browsed the library, I could only think of all the times Riley complained about reading and that she only read to humor me.
I could only think of her mocking retort when I told her about a new book, "Where can I get the five-minute version?"
Even though I knew it wasn't healthy that she was on my mind all the time and that I couldn't think about anything else when the memories surged back, I knew something else with even more certitude.
I now solely lived off these memories.
After all, who was I without her?