Page 52 of Kicking It with the Point Guard

I tell them how Cameron and I met and how he single-handedly helped me understand math enough that I’m not even worried about my final anymore. Mom’s gaze softens considerably at that declaration, and the next time she looks at my boyfriend, the hostility has vanished and adoration has taken its place.

I finally cave and tell them what happened at the basketball game. They argue that I should pull out of school and finish out my senior year somewhere else. After a very heated, but quiet, discussion, I finally convince them to at least speak to the dean before they try to convince me to make a hasty decision.

It is my decision, after all. I’m legally an adult.

I change the subject when I see Dad pull out his phone, asking him if he remembers the time he showed me all of those clips of Larry Bird, the man who almost inspired me enough to set my book down and pick up a ball.

He said, of course, because Larry was involved.

I tell him that watching Cameron play reminded me of that day and those clips he showed me. For the first time all day, he looks at the sleeping man beside me with hope instead of indifference.

* * *

I spent the better part of a week in the hospital before finally being released. The fresh, non-sterile air of the outside world has never smelled so sweet.

My schedule had to be adjusted. Even though I was no longer in the hospital, I was still not well enough to attend class. Mom offered to stay with me at college and push me in a wheelchair to all of my classes and help me bathe and get in bed, but I refused with a very firm “never in a million years.”

So I basically had to move back home for a few weeks until I recovered enough that I could use a crutch instead of a wheelchair.

I’m not going to lie and say it was fun being back at home with my parents. I had to do all my work online, and since I wasn’t on campus, any help I got with math from Cameron had to be via the phone.

Dr. Harrington emailed me wishing me a speedy recovery and reminded me not to slack off in my algebra class, because that’s what Professor Drivels wanted from me.

Professor Drivels emailed me every homework assignment for the next several weeks at once, and that was it.

By the time I was well enough to go back to school, there were only a couple of weeks left in the semester.

Mom and Dad went with me to speak with the dean. He asked if I sent him the anonymous letter suggesting that he monitor the cheerleaders. What I wanted to say was “Seriously, I was laid up in the hospital practically unconscious when you got that letter, but sure… it was me.” But what I actually said was “No, sir.”

He told me that a full investigation had been launched after they found a blip in the security footage. A tech specialist figured out that it was indeed Allyson’s crew who’d vandalized the library. After that discovery, it wasn’t hard to find out what really happened the night of the basketball game. Allyson, her cronies, and her new boy toy got kicked out of school for harassment with the intent to injure and vandalism. They were also fined the amount that it took to clean the library, which turned out to be quite the lump of pocket change.

Satisfied that I would no longer be exposed to harm of any sort from bullies, Mom and Dad confidently left me in my room with the parting words that if I didn’t pass my math final, then I could literally kiss my boyfriend goodbye.

* * *

Mia snorts as the door swings shut behind my parents.

“I love them, you know,” she says, eyes sparkling mischievously.

“I know.” I smile at her. “They like you too.”

She hops off her bed and comes over to give me a gentle but long overdue hug.

“Don’t ever roller-skate blindfolded and ear-muffed again.” She wags her finger at me, and her eyes fill with tears that she manages to blink away.

“Don’t worry. I’ve banned roller-skates from my presence for the foreseeable future,” I say, my voice drier than the Sahara Desert.

We spend the evening together, bingeing on snacks from our emergency stash and watching corny movies. I ask Mia how things are going with Oscar, and the blush she unsuccessfully tries to hide from me tells me everything I need to know.

My first day back in class, I turn in all my homework assignments from the past two weeks and receive a lot of sympathetic looks at my two casts and fresh new pixie cut.

Apparently, when Mia went to my professors to tell them my situation, she also showed them the picture of me in the hospital. Most of them cut several assignments that weren’t crucial to the curriculum, and my education teachers even went together to get me a box of cookies from one of the most popular bakeries in town.

That’s why she’s my best friend.

Professor Drivels ignores me completely on my first day back, which I’m not really mad about, but he pulls me aside after our next class to let me know that the quality of the assignments I did over my “break” was severely lacking, and combined with the assignments I failed at the beginning of the semester, if I didn’t make at least a seventy-five on my final, I’m unlikely to pass the class.

He assured me part of the problem was because I missed a test while I was gone, and instead of making me do it online, he decided it would be better for me if I didn’t have that grade at all. It also makes my test average go down, giving me a smaller window for passing the final.

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