Everyone played. Maggie was the goalie for Andy’s team, and Jeb was the goalie for Lily’s. They were both surprisingly good. I could see their silhouettes in the light from the goalpost lamps, moving as lithely as if they were decades younger. Jeb was not afraid to hit the floor to stop a goal, but Maggie was more effective without resorting to such extremes. She was like a magnet for the invisible ball. Every time Ian or Wes got off a shot… thunk! It landed in her hands.

Trudy and Paige quit after a half hour or so and passed me on their way out, chattering with excitement. It seemed impossible that we’d started the morning with a trial, but I was relieved that things had changed so drastically.

The women weren’t gone long. They came back with arms full of boxes. Granola bars—the kind with fruit filling. The game came to a halt. Jeb called halftime, and everyone hurried over to eat breakfast.

The goods were divvied up at the center line. It was a mob scene at first.

“Here you go, Wanda,” Jamie said, ducking out of the group. He had his hands full of the bars, and water bottles tucked under his arms.

“Thanks. Having fun?”

“Yeah! Wish you could play.”

“Next time,” I said.

“Here you go…” Ian was there, his hands full of granola bars.

“Beat ya,” Jamie told him.

“Oh,” Jared said, appearing on Jamie’s other side. He also had too many bars for one.

Ian and Jared exchanged a long glance.

“Where’s all the food?” Kyle demanded. He stood over an empty box, his head swiveling around the room, looking for the culprit.

“Catch,” Jared said, tossing granola bars one by one, hard, like knives.

Kyle plucked them out of the air with ease, then jogged over to see if Jared was holding out on him.

“Here,” Ian said, shoving half of his haul toward his brother without looking at him. “Now go.”

Kyle ignored him. For the first time today, he looked at me, staring down at me where I sat. His irises were black with the light behind him. I couldn’t read his expression.

I recoiled, and caught my breath when my ribs protested.

Jared and Ian closed ranks in front of me like stage curtains.

“You heard him,” Jared said.

“Can I say something first?” Kyle asked. He peered down through the space between them.

They didn’t respond.

“I’m not sorry,” Kyle told me. “I still think it was the right thing to do.”

Ian shoved his brother. Kyle reeled back but then stepped forward again.

“Hold on, I’m not done.”

“Yeah, you are,” Jared said. His hands were clenched, the skin over his knuckles white.

Everyone had noticed now. The room was hushed, all the fun of the game lost.