Ms. Birdie is bopping around the kitchen when we get to the house, stacking plastic containers full of food on the counters. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re home, boys. I need a hand getting the car packed for the team dinner. Go get cleaned up, and then maybe one of you can grab the steam-pan sets from the shed,” she says, throwing a dish towel over her shoulder. Under her breath, she grumbles, “I’ve got to keep this pasta warm, and I know Pastor Ernie isn’t going to have what I need in the church kitchen.”

“I can do that for you, Ms. Birdie,” I tell her as she disappears down the hallway. I quickly open the spice cabinet and grab the blue container of cayenne pepper.

I follow Julian toward his bedroom and glance behind me to make sure Ms. Birdie is safely back in the kitchen before quietly closing the door behind me.

“Have you taken some ibuprofen or something yet tonight?” I ask him quietly. “Ice? Heat? Anything?”

“I iced it right before practice and took a couple of ibuprofen right after practice. Nothing is really helping tonight,” he says, his lips twisting.

“We can try this if you want,” I say, showing him the purloined cayenne. “I just need some hand lotion or Vaseline or something to make a cream.”

He grabs a bottle of dry skin lotion from the bathroom and hands it to me. I shake a generous amount of the pepper into my hand and use my finger to mix in the lotion until I have a dark rusty cream in my palm.

“I hope this works,” I say as I sit in the desk chair while Julian lifts his shirt.

“Me too,” he says.

The bruise is dark purple today, stretching across his ribs.

“I really wish you weren’t so stubborn about playing through this,” I say as I gently put the lotion onto the bruise.

“I already told you why I’m doing it,” he answers, his voice tight. “So don’t try to talk me out of it.”

“I know, I just—”

“I know. Just don’t worry about it, okay?” he snaps.

My stomach flips a little.

He winces. “Sorry. I’m sorry. You’re trying to help. I just… I don’t need anyone worrying about me. I got this,” he says.

“You’re not taking anything again, are you?”

“I said I got this.”

I finish spreading the lotion on his side and gently pull his shirt down again. “That should feel better in a little bit. I’ll keep the pepper in case you need it again later,” I say, standing up and putting the shaker in my pocket.

I turn to leave the room, and Julian reaches out and grabs my elbow. “’lijah,” he says.

I turn to him, but he doesn’t move his hand from my arm.