Letterman Jacket

6 / sixty-five days before

PhysEd and I had talked about our relationship and we agreed that it could never work out the way it is with English. My hand-eye coordination was certainly not the best, and anyone standing five feet away from me as I dodged a volleyball could seriously earn a trip to the emergency room.

Staring at myself in the mirror of the girls' locker room, my fingers tried to desperately pull down the hem of the orange gym shorts we were required to wear. It was much too short for my liking, and I wasn't too keen on showing this much skin in school.

"That's really not going to change anything, you know."

I didn't have to look up to know that it was Paula Fernandez who spoke to me. Her voice had a certain soft edge to it, and though it wasn't exactly friendly, the tone of her words sounded conversational and amused.

It wasn't the first time we talked—in fact, she and Theo had dated a while back before she suddenly broke it off due to an unknown reason. She blended easily with the popular crowd in her cheerleader uniform and personality, having the looks of a magazine cover model and the body of an athlete.

"Yeah, um, it's just a little too short," I answered in a timid voice, releasing the cloth and knotting my fingers around my hair into a ponytail.

Paula's lips stretched into a grin as she looked me over from head to toe, caramel complexion glowing under the incandescent lights. "You any good in volleyball?"

I burst out laughing as I shook my head. "Let's just say that I hate it, and it hates me."

"I feel the same way with calculus. Come on, you're on my team. I'll make sure you don't give anyone a concussion."

Her bronze-colored hair swayed from side to side as she left, and I followed after her with confusion etched onto my expression. I was that girl who was always picked last during PhysEd, so Paula saving me from that embarrassment again made me question, "Why?"

She glanced back at me as we entered the gymnasium, volleyballs flying in the air as I tried my best not to be hit by one. "Why, what?"

"Why are you suddenly being nice to me?"

Paula wrapped her fingers around my wrist and pulled me towards the bleachers. "I just want to apologize for the way Nico acted," she explained. "Not that I'm defending him, but he's my friend and I just want to say sorry for his behavior last Monday."

Shaking my head, I said, "Look, Paula. I actually don't care about Nico and what he says. I do whatever I need to do, and you don't have to feel like you have to apologize. It's just the way he is, right?"

"Not exactly, no." She smiled. "How about this instead? I make sure you don't hurt any of our teammates in the court, and you have to tutor me in calculus even just for a day. I heard you're good with numbers."

Knowing I didn't have much of a choice and that this was the best offer I could get from an athlete, I agreed. "Deal."

*

What wasn't part of the deal was that I could be the one to get hurt.

The volleyball game stopped, and everyone rushed over to where I had landed. The pain didn't register for a few seconds, but as it climbed its way from my right ankle up to my leg, it was hard not to cry out in agony.

Paula kneeled over me with her face twisted in worry. "Thea—"

"It doesn't hurt," I wheezed out, breathing heavily.

The cheerleader rolled her eyes, and I suddenly wished Coach Greenberg hadn't left her in charge when he was called by the principal to his office. "I have to take you to the nurse. Move, people! Can't you see she's injured?"