Gym class felt beyond repetitive. I stood at the free-throw line, ready to heave the basketball into the hoop. This was the same for everyone, the multiple basketball hoops around the gym waiting for them to take their shot. And when someone did, the metal beams supporting them from the rafters would rattle, caring less whether the ball made it into the net or not. It was like putting shapes into a hole when you were a child. It started out holding your attention, but the longer you did it, the more pointless it seemed. That was where I was at, and the only thing keeping my interest was Nora and her rant about Amelia.

“That rich snitch of a bitch!”

What she just said may have been the most colorful expression of the English language I heard since entering high school. And it rhymed too. What more could you want?

I ducked out of the way of the basketball she hurled off the backboard. It hit an unsuspecting kid in the back of the leg, prompting the gym teacher to let out an ear-piercing whistle. “Nora, go get that and quit throwing it like it’s a shot put!”

Not wanting to get herself into further trouble, she went to chase her wayward ball. I took a shot at the hoop while I waited for her to return. It collided against the rim but managed to fall in after circling a few times. The shot may not have been pretty, but I was kind of proud of it. Most of my other attempts had been either overshot or undershot by a good margin. There was no in-between with me, which was why that was one of the only baskets I made during this period. Glancing at the gym teacher to see if he noticed, I was greeted by the sight of him giving pointers to one of the starters on the basketball team. He was demonstrating how he needed to adjust the way he went for a lay-up.

Perfect.

It wasn’t like the rest of us–I wasn’t even sure if I was holding the ball properly–could use a little help over here. Guess it didn’t matter that much. I could give less than a crap about improving at basketball and our grades were based on participation, so I only had to keep throwing the ball up into the air like an idiot until the bell rang. Easy enough that even I could do it.

I was glad when Nora came back because this was incredibly boring to do without having someone to talk to.

“I told her not to talk to anyone about that!”

“Woah, relax. She only told me that you punched her in the face like a psycho,” I said, lying to protect Amelia from getting into trouble. “And I’m starting to think she was right.”

She huffed and launched the basketball at the backboard with enough force to rattle the hoop, make the net swish back and forth, and send the ball hurtling back to her. Luckily, this time she reacted quick enough to catch it and stop it from bouncing away. “She always did have a big mouth, but it wasn’t like she didn’t deserve it.”

“Really,” I asked, curious how she could possibly spin this one.

“Yeah, I mean… ok, I overreacted, but I didn’t ask for her help. And I definitely didn’t want her to threaten them with her family’s lawyers and stuff. It made me look pathetic.” She sighed and dribbled the ball twice before scooping it up and holding it against her chest. “I get it now, how much she helped me out, and I apologized. So, don't bring it up again because she'll never stop making fun of me."

Somehow, I didn't doubt that. Amelia loved nothing more than to rile Nora up, but I knew now that she did it out of concern. It was her own weird way of making sure she was alright, and I'm sure in her own weird way Nora knew it.

And I'm also sure Nora was grateful to her too.

The bell rang, and I immediately scooped up the ball and returned it to the bin, thankful class was over. Nora placed hers in as well before lightly pulling on my sleeve. "Remember if you tell anyone, I’ll beat you to a bloody pulp."

"I won't forget, you little psycho," I said.

As our gym teacher barked out an order for us to hurry up, I tore off in the direction of the boy’s locker room to avoid any repercussions from calling her that. She wouldn’t dare enter, making it the only place on school grounds safe from her wrath. Sadly, I couldn’t hide in here forever, and I knew she wouldn’t forget.

I was screwed.

____________ 

I adjusted the ice pack on my sore shoulder for what must have been the fifth time in less than a minute. It would have made more sense to leave it alone, however, it turned out to not be the magic bullet I expected it to be. In fact, the swelling had only increased since I began icing it.

“She got you that good, huh?” Amelia asked, whisking the eggs into butter, sugar, and cocoa powder. She had invited me over to her house again today in preparation for the big day tomorrow.

“I’d probably be less of a laughing stock if that’s what happened. I tripped over someone’s backpack in the hallway running away from her and landed hard on my shoulder.” I motioned to the ice pack. “Nora was nice enough to run to the nurse's office and get this for me after laughing with the rest of them first.”

Turning on the tap to wash away some gunk from the batter, Amelia “Do you want an Advil or a Tylenol?”

“Thanks, but I’ll live. It should feel a lot better by tomorrow.”

“That reminds me. I was going to finish painting the last prop for Nora after school. Do you want to come help?”

“Sure,” I said. “I might as well join the stage crew at this point too, for how helpful those guys have been.”

Amelia giggled. “Don’t be too hard on them. I think they’re still constructing the set. They usually only get around to painting the props at the end.”

I hummed in acknowledgement, recognizing that I was in the wrong. For some reason, though, I was under the impression that Nora had finished painting all the props. Maybe they got some more that needed a fresh coat of paint. I guess I’d have to wait and see.