“Just go, Jordan. Please. Leave me alone,” I say, feeling an onslaught of tears rush down my face. There’s no way to stop them. All I want to do is stay in here. I’m not ready to face the truth, the lies, that man I used to call Daddy.

“It’s not that serious, Carli,” Jordan says, and puts her arm around me. She’s never this affectionate. But I guess I’ve never been sitting in a nasty shower stall crying, either. “We won,” she continues. “So what if that weird Single Black Female girl got the best of you for a few plays. Nobody’s game is perfect.”

I don’t know what I’m supposed to think about Jordan talking about Shannon like that. Am I supposed to defend her like a good big sister? Am I supposed to join in trashing her because I can’t stand her, because she just tore my world apart? Trying to decide how to feel is making my head hurt, my heart hurt, my everything hurt. I squeeze my eyes shut.

“Come on, Carli,” she says, and puts her head on my shoulder. “I really don’t want to miss this.”

“I really don’t want you to miss it, either,” I say, sounding like some kind of whimpering dog.

She stands up, pulling me along with her, and I let her, thinking of the ways my body can be out there while my mind stays in here. On pause.

REX

About damn time. Carli is walking across the gym with Jordan. The captains of the other three teams have been standing in the center of the court for over ten minutes waiting on them. Russell Price and his point guard up on a winning platform posing for pics and shit, and me down here with the losers.

It’s bad enough Carli made everybody wait on her, but this girl has the nerve to still be pouting. Her head is down so far I can’t even see her face. Only hair.

She’s coming up beside me, walking so close behind Jordan, I keep thinking she’s going to step on a heel and pull off one of her sneakers. I swear to God, she better not say anything to me because I’m not hearing it. Nah, baby girl. Not this time. No more letting you do me wrong while I’m over here giving 110 percent. You got me messed up.

Now she’s in front of me. So close that strands of her hair practically tickle my nose. A part of me wants to lean into it, put my face in it. Nah, fuck her good-smelling hair. I hold my breath, stop taking her in, and she passes me without even looking in my direction.