Finally, the team spread over the court once again, most of them hugging or high-fiving each other before they went to take their positions.

Noelle looked like she was barely able to stand still as she waited for the referee’s whistle, bobbing up and down on her toes in a way that reminded me of how eager she had been to try the self-defense trick with me last week. I smiled at her when she sent a quick glance our way, surprised when she smiled back.

A moment later, the second half of the game began. The numbers on the scoreboard continuously climbed higher on each side, until Seven Hills managed to get ahead by six points towards the end.

The game was almost over, and by now I was pretty sure we were going to win. Noelle scored time after time after time, always shouting commands to her team members, always moving, always in control.

That was until she suddenly fell to the ground.

I gasped quietly when she didn’t get up right away. From what it looked like, she had jumped to get a better aim at the basket and landed sort of awkwardly on her left foot, which she was now clutching with a pained grimace.

She was only a few feet away from us, close enough for me to hear her harsh breaths. I sat for a few seconds, battling with myself. Then, Seth hissing my name, I got up and ran towards her.

I reached her even before the nurse or any of the teachers could. Noelle was still sitting, her hands clutching her ankle, when I dropped to my knees next to her.

“Hey,” I said breathlessly. “Hey, are you okay?”

“What the hell are you doing here?” she ground out between gritted teeth and momentarily looked up from her foot to stare at me instead.

I ignored her question and asked, “Do you want me to help you get off the court?”

“I’m not getting off the court,” she hissed. “I need to finish this game. We’re winning—”

“I know. But your foot . . .”

“I’m fine to play. Just help me get up.” Softly, she added,

“Please, Evelyn.”

I swallowed hard. “Okay.”

Looping my arms around her middle I helped her stand up, but as soon as she put her weight onto her left foot, her leg gave away and she slumped down in my arms, as limp as a marionette with its strings cut, a pained whimper leaving her lips.

Just as I carefully lowered her back onto the ground, a harsh female voice sounded right behind me. “Quick, out of the way, girl. This is my job.”

I turned my head to see the nurse with her first-aid kit in one hand storming towards us, Mrs. Whitworth a few steps behind her.

Nodding, I went to move away and give them space to tend to Noelle, but her hand suddenly shot forward and clasped mine.

“Stay,” she said quietly. “Please?”