Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 99766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
“Gonna stand there all day, English?” Terrence barks out. “Pass the ball.”
But she’s not open.
I fake like I’m going to bounce pass, even though Liv isn’t open. The second Tierra darts that way, I wait for Liv to open up. Nothing. Fuck this.
Launching the ball, I shoot for the basket near the three-point line, waiting for that soothing swoosh. As soon as it slips through the net, I smirk at Tierra.
“Nope,” Terrence snaps, popping the P to make an obnoxious sound. “Start from the top. I didn’t say shi—nothing about shooting.”
Irritation burns in my gut, but I don’t let it bother me outwardly. I take the ball Tierra tosses back at me. My girl is all in my face the second Cal whistles again. I’m rattled by the screeching sound that seems to bounce around inside my skull.
This is stupid.
It’s basketball.
We should be able to dribble. It feels unnatural not to.
Tierra’s breathing is loud and labored, the sound crawling under my skin like ants. It has anger surging up inside me, chasing away the festering sensation. I try to focus on Liv giving me an opening, but Tierra won’t stop fucking breathing.
How did I never notice her breathing before?
Because the ball grounds me.
And I can’t fucking ground myself.
I pivot, shoving my elbow at Tierra, knocking the breath right out of her. Liv still isn’t open, pissing me off. Terrence yells at me, distracting the other two girls. I chest pass the ball hard, right at Liv. The ball smacks her in her stupid boobs and she lands hard on her ass.
Oops.
“Bench, English,” Terrence snarls, his looming presence now inches from touching me. “Now.”
His eye doesn’t seem so droopy now since the other one is narrowed, both brown eyes blazing with fury.
“What the hell did I do?” I gripe. “She should have been paying attention!”
“Go.” He cracks his neck, the popping of his bones setting me off.
I shove past him, storming over to the bleachers, focusing on the slapping of my shoes on the gym floor. Walking right over to my bag, I yank out my phone and AirPods. Ignoring everyone, I stick to my task.
Drown it all out.
I turn on Spotify and find my white noise playlist. The even hissing sound squelches all the rage and disgust burning inside of me. I close my eyes and try my damnedest to decompress.
Don’t breathe.
Don’t move.
Find your center, Penny.
I remain seated, eyes clamped shut, thinking of nothing but the silent way snow falls late at night. Cold and refreshing. Blissfully quiet. Peaceful. It isn’t until someone plucks an AirPod out of my ear and all the maddening sounds assault me again that I’m brought back to reality. I glower at the offender.
Fucking Cal.
“Cool it, kid,” he says, frowning at me. “What’s with the bitch act out there?”
The white noise from my other AirPod soothes me and fights for dominance in my head.
“I’m a bitch,” I utter, giving him my bitchiest glare. “What can I say?”
“No, you snapped just then. What happened?” Cal asks. “Come on. You’re practically my sister now. Tell me, sis.”
I punch his stupid thigh. “I’m not your sis.”
“But you will be,” he grumbles, rubbing the spot on his leg. “So fucking tell me.”
“I don’t see the point in us not dribbling,” I snap back in irritation.
His green eyes probe me for longer than necessary, but at least he keeps his big mouth shut for a bit. “The point is, it’s what your coach asked you to do. Teamwork, Penny. I know it’s a foreign concept, but it’s something you have to learn. You have to trust in your coach’s instruction. You have to trust your teammates, not hurt them.”
“Not my fault Liv’s boobs catch more balls than she does.”
We both laugh at the innuendo.
“Fine,” he says, “she deserved that one, but was it necessary to elbow the shit out of my cuz?”
Guilt clouds around me. I probably bruised my best friend—my only friend—because I lost my shit.
I lost my shit.
I lost my shit.
I’d been doing so well, but ever since my sister was kidnapped and raped by those monsters, I’ve been on edge. Spiraling. Unfocused and angrier than usual. All my normal coping mechanisms seem to have been forgotten.
It makes me angry, erratic, and impulsive.
Which means Dad will sniff it out, wanting to drag me into his office and shove pills down my throat.
“Tierra’s cool,” I assure him. And she is. I’ll have to apologize later, but she’ll understand. Amazingly, Tierra seems to get the words I never speak. Sure, she’s kind of loud sometimes and talks a lot, but she seems to understand some of the insanity that plagues me.
“Get your ass back out there,” Cal says, punching my thigh, though not as hard as I hit him. “They’re dribbling now, so you can stop your baby fit.”
I flip him off, but I’m thankful for the pep talk.