- AHMED -

"S-sorry, man," I sputtered as Steven threw the basketball back to me. He nodded, then returned his gaze to Coach Wells.

I bowed my head and rushed back to the circle of guys I was practicing with. After we took a few more shots, missing a few but sinking the rest, Coach blew his whistle.

I hustled with the rest of the prospectives to center court, where we started running basic drills, dribbling up and down the polished wood floor for twenty minutes before shooting lay-ups and free-throws for the next forty.

Hot, sticky sweat poured down my face and back, gluing my jersey to my body. But I refused to stop, refused to give up.

After another few rounds of drills, Coach Wells split up all the prospectives, dividing us into groups interspersed with some of the guys already on the team.

"Anybody can hustle up and down a court or sink a jump shot," he said, "but if you boys want a spot, you're gonna need more than skill—you're gonna need synergy. And how well you play as part of this team is a heck of a lot more important than any shot you make or ball you steal."

He strode to the middle of the court and held up the basketball before staring both team captains in the eye, assuring they were ready to spring for the ball the second he hurled it into the air.

After a moment's hesitation, he blew his whistle and tossed the ball upward. My team's captain, Isaac, managed to get to it first, knocking it forward and heading toward the three-point line. Steven, who captained the other team, was on Isaac in a second. Isaac passed to a guy named Ray, who squeezed past two other defenders and land a lay-up. We headed down the court to the opposing goal after Steven picked up the rebound.

"Steven—dude, I'm open!" yelled his teammate Paul.

Steven kept running like Paul didn't exist. I thought for sure someone would steal the ball, but he weaved through the throng of desperate hands and blocking arms with almost inhuman speed.

I lunged to grab the ball, but Steven twisted ahead and swung his elbow backward to jab me in the nose before sinking the shot squarely in the basket.

Coach Wells blew his whistle as I fell backward, blood bursting from my nostrils and pouring down my face like scarlet karo syrup gushing from a mannequin corpse.

"HALL!" Coach yelled, storming past the growing group of guys crowding above me to check if I was okay. "What the heck was that!?"

"Sorry, Coach," Steven defended, holding up his arms. "Guy was on me before I knew it. I didn't see him until the last second..."

"So you elbow the kid to the face!?" Coach roared, then turned to look at me. "I'll buzz the nurse," he mumbled as he walked over to help me up. "You okay, kid?"

I nodded, plugging my nose the best I could with my jersey sleeve.

Coach glared at Steven one more time before calling the nurse from his office. The moment Coach walked off the court, Steven shot me an evil grin then shoved past me to pick up the fallen basketball.

****

"Well, it's not broken. And it looks like the bleeding has stopped too."

I gave a tired sigh and stared up at the school nurse before glancing rightward to her desk, where a golden placard sheened in the afternoon sunlight that gleamed through the windows: LINA MAWRY, SCHOOL NURSE.

Shivering despite the dizzying heat still smoldering inside my head, I shut my eyes to the surrounding office, to the monochromatic walls of pastel pink hung with Bible verses bordered in silky white.

"Still, I want you to keep the ice pack," Nurse Mawry continued, motioning to the frosty bag I held to my nose. "It'll help with swelling."

"Th...thank you."

"Of course," she chirped. "And what did you say your name was again, dear?"

"Ahmed," I replied. "Ahmed Heavenstate."

Her hand rose to her mouth. "You're Ahmed Heavenstate?"

"Y-yeah," I mumbled. "Sorry, but I...um, have we met before?"

"Oh, well, James and Katherine are very good friends of mine." She was grinning from ear to ear. "We've known each other ever since they first moved into that beautiful house over on Gilded Pearl Drive. When they sprang the news that they were adopting an Indian boy...well, I was just elated!"

Indian, huh? I sighed. No surprise there, I guess.

Nurse Mawry's voice grew lower, and she twisted away briefly. "I always felt bad for them, you know. Katherine was never able to conceive naturally." She turned back to me and smiled. "I'm so happy that they finally get to have a family of their own!"

I did my best to smile, lips tremoring upward as I adjusted my ice pack.

"So, how do you like the new house?" she trilled with wide eyes. "Doesn't Katherine have the loveliest taste in—?"

DING! DING! DINNNNG!

"Oh!" Nurse Mawry giggled, startled as I jumped at the sound of the bell to dismiss classes. "Well, I guess we'll have to talk more later, dear. It was very nice to meet you."

I breathed a silent sigh of relief. "Th-thank you," I managed as I stood to my feet. "I'll see you around."

A dull ache still throbbing in my nose, I slinked from the nurse's office and out into the hallway, where my phone buzzed inside my pocket with a message from Katherine:

Overslept and running late, see you in 30. Love you!

I smiled weakly—I couldn't help it. At least she's finally getting some sleep, I thought to myself, recalling how late and tirelessly she'd been working on transferring all my student files to EdgeWay the week before.

Maybe I should head to the Chapel. I sighed, remembered how when Principal Turner took me on the tour of EdgeWay, she'd said the Chapel was a safe place for students—that I could always unwind if I was scared or confused or having trouble. 

And right then, I was pretty sure I qualified for all three.

I walked into the Chapel through the backdoor, shuddering as the carved wood creaked with my entry. I placed my backpack on an empty pew seat, then knelt down and bowed my head to pray.

"God," I hesitated, "I—I don't really know what's going on. I mean, today was...Maybe I just suck at making friends." I sighed. "I guess I should just—"

Footsteps. 

Soft, fast. 

Pattering to the left, rushing behind me.

"Who's there?" I jolted upright, twisting to face the back of the Chapel as I spoke.

No one.

More footsteps, this time at the front.

I whirled around. "Hello?" I called.

A low giggle came in response.

"I—I know you're there," I tried, words quivering. "I can hear you."

More giggling.

"Steven, is that you?" I demanded. "This isn't funny! Just leave me alone!"

Silence.

"Please," I whispered, bowing my head as a single tear rolled down my cheek.

I heard more footsteps, but this time they were slower.

I glanced up cautiously, eyeing my uninvited guest for the first time—a thin girl with wavy brown hair that cuddled her shoulders. Her left arm rested on her hip, and her right hand hid behind a pleated black skirt that stopped just above her knees.

"I'm not Steven," she answered in a tiny voice. "And I wasn't trying to scare you."

I held my silence, staring warily forward.

"I'm Irina," she offered, "Irina Gravestepper."

I paused. "Wow," I tried. "...That's some last name."

A small smile flickered on her face. "You get what you're born with, I guess."

I sighed. "Not always."

Her eyes widened, hand falling from her hip. "You're the Heavenstates' new son, aren't you?"

"You know," I sighed, "I'm getting really tired of everyone knowing my name."

She looked down. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. It's just...I heard about what happened in the lunchroom today and..." She shook her head. "Steven's a prick. I promise we're not all like that."

I shut my eyes.

She walked quickly to where I was, placing an arm on my shoulder. "Ahmed," she said sweetly, "I promise. There are good people at this school. And if anything like that ever happens to you again, I will make sure Steven regrets it."

I was puzzled. "But how? He's so...so..."

"Popular? Untouchable? Not really. People are just scared of him is all." She smiled down at me. "But that's private school in general. Everybody's scared out of their minds."

I looked up at her. "Well...what about you?"

She laughed. "Trust me—there's nothing Steven Hall could say or do that would scare me."

"Wish I could say that," I exhaled heavily. "I don't know why he hates me so much."

"Same reason he hates me," she answered indifferently: "because he's stupid, and you being at this school makes him irrelevant."

I furrowed my brow. "Huh?"

She smiled. "Judging by the fact that you're here, praying in the Chapel, I'm guessing you actually take the word Christian seriously."

"I mean...I just—I thought this was a—"

"Christian school? Oh, it is. But you're greatly deceiving yourself if you think every 'Christian' you meet is saved."

"Oh," I whispered, lowering my head. 

Irina paused, then smiled down at me. "You know, Ahmed, you're actually kinda cute."

I felt heat rise suddenly in my cheeks.

"Not many people can pull off the whole bloody-nose-ice-pack look, but it's cute on you."

I looked up at her and laughed, the first time I'd laughed all day. Irina laughed too, and she kept her arm firmly on my shoulder all the while.

As we settled down under the vapor of the moment, silence refilled the air. Irina twisted her head away from me briefly and glanced down at her phone, her eyes popping wide in an instant:

"Whoa—" she blurted, "I really lost track of the time!" She turned back to me. "Sorry, Ahmed, I gotta get going."

"Oh, my bad, I didn't mean to keep you—"

"It's fine," she paused, slowing briefly to stare me in the eyes. "I...I really enjoyed talking to you." She smiled, then turned meekly and walked away, her dark hair waving in the afternoon breeze as she stepped through the sanctuary door.