I hate PE, where I’m usually the cliché of the unpopular girl who’s picked last or not picked at all. But today, I’m surprised when Nicole’s team picks me among the first choices for volleyball.
I walk slowly, finding Audrey on Nicole’s team.
She smiles at me, and I return it.
“Worst class ever,” she mutters, and I half laugh.
“Hey, Ji.” I hear Alexis behind me and turn around.
“Hey, stranger,” I reply.
She grimaces. “I deserve that.”
I shrug. “I’m not sure if I did something wrong? Is it because of what happened with Mason?”
She glances over at the other girls. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Mason was out of line. I’ve just been busy with school. I’ve been put on a wait-list for Yale, so my parents have been coming down hard on me.”
“Oh,” I say. “Okay. Sorry about that.”
She waves a hand. “It’s all right. Who cares, I got into NYU and that’s what I want anyway.”
She looks flawlessly pretty in her sweatpants and T-shirt, her hair pulled into a high ponytail. Her shirt is tight, giving her a perfect cinched waist, and her sweats hang low around her hips. Every girl is wearing them the exact same way, and I feel a pang of jealousy at how they all look great while I’m a shapeless blob.
I take in a deep breath and let the feelings out when I exhale. It’s not their fault. It’s not mine either. It’s like Bà Ngo?i said. This moment isn’t forever.
The gym is divided into two parts with two nets in between. One for the boys, and one for the girls.
Nicole gathers us around, flexing her fingers. “All right, whoever gets the ball, pass it to me or Jenny. We’ll be able to score. Okay?”
The other girls nod, and one rolls her eyes.
“What if you’re too far away?” one of them asks, and I think her name is Lena. She has her blond bangs gathered with a butterfly clip.
“We won’t be,” Nicole says firmly. “And if we are, just pass it between you or something.”
“Ugh, who cares?” the girl who rolled her eyes says, and I have to agree with her. So does Audrey, who nods as well.
“I do, Brittany,” Nicole says. “You can sit this one out if you want.”
“Oh my God, relax. It’s not that serious.” Brittany rolls her eyes again but is already stretching her arms.
Nicole doesn’t reply, but her stare could burn Brittany alive.
No one tells me what I should do, so I move toward the end corner, but Nicole grabs my arm.
“No, I want you right here.” She places me in the middle right in front of the net. “If anyone hits you, just yell ‘hate crime.’”
I blink, not sure if she’s joking or not. She doesn’t look like she is.
“But I’ve never played—” I begin, but she’s already moving on to talk to Hayley.
The ball hits me multiple times, and one time it smacks me on the cheek. The heat on my cheeks is more to do with the embarrassment from the laughter I hear. I try ignoring them, trying to hit the ball, and I’m able to do it once before it slips from my fingers and falls.
“Damn it, Jihad!” Nicole barks from where she’s standing.
I swallow hard, sweat pouring down my forehead and neck all the way down my spine. It was a mercy not being picked, and I wish could go back to that right now. Audrey tries to help, but she’s just as bad as I am. I run and jump and am finally able to pass the ball to Brittany, who grabs it like she doesn’t care. She doesn’t even move from where she’s standing, and the ball slides from her hands and bounces to the floor again.
Nicole doesn’t say anything to her. “Okay, let’s try again.”
