Hoops and Dreams

[28] Throw in the towel

I wait at the bus stop for an entire thirty minutes before Anika appears from behind me.

When I turn around to face her, her eyes are an irritated red and her face is wet. She's been crying.

"A— Are you okay?" I ask carefully.

She sniffs, "I'm fine."

She's obviously not. The slumped set in her shoulders, puffy eyes, and messy hair can mean one of two things: she has hay fever or she was crying. Given the fact that it's three months too early for cold and flu season, I can safely say this is a classic sob fest. A side effect of heated confrontations with an ex.

I suck at handling other people's tears. Especially when it's people I care about. Do I hug her or is that too much affection too fast? I'd offer her a handkerchief but this isn't the 1800's, people don't just carry those around. I'm socially inept when it comes to this type of thing. My first thought is that I should punch her in the shoulder to give her a different kind of pain to focus on but that might be misinterpreted as passive-aggressive. Or plain old aggressive.

"Did you get it?" Anika asks. Saving me from having to do any comforting.

"Yeah," I nod showing her the flash drive.

She takes it. "Good. It was worth it then."

Her eyes settle on me, taking a long hard look. "Did you go dumpster diving while I was gone?"

"Funny," I say drily. "So what do we do now? Call Xavier? Start the counter blackmail? Take time-stamped photos to give us an alibi?"

She shakes her head. "That's too small. We need to think bigger."

"Okay."

Why do I get the feeling that I've just unleashed a teenage girl-sized Kraken on our senior class?

Maybe that's why I keep the burner phone in my pocket. She doesn't need any more ammunition.

*****

In less than ten minutes, I'll be late for school. That information however doesn't stop me from having a minor-scale panic attack as I stand wrapped in my towel in the middle of the bathroom.

Elevated heart rate? Check.

Sweaty armpits even though I've gone through half a stick of deodorant? Check.

Dilating pupils? Check and check.

WebMD said I was either having a panic attack or a stroke. I stare at my reflection and take a shuddering breath before I grab my phone and hit the call button.

"What's up?" Anika answers after the first ring.

"You're already at school?" I ask when I see what's in the background. She's in the school auditorium with a few other people.

"Yup, trying to make time for extra debate practice." She says. "Are you in a towel?"

"Yeah. Kind of." I say tugging the towel even tighter around me. "So did you decide?"

The question that's been up in the air between us all through the weekend. What was she going to do with the flash drive full of incriminating information on nearly half the basketball team? In hindsight, I shouldn't have just handed it to her. I should have thought out my next moves. But in my defense, I'd been through a lot. I'd spent a disgusting amount of time under a bed, discovered something I didn't want to know about the boys on my team, and found out my closest friend had kissed Xavier.

On the lips.

"Still thinking about it," she responds absentmindedly.

"But you've had the whole—"