Basketball is great.

So long as you aren't competing against an absolute asshole and his team of bitches.

And if you're smart enough to watch your back around him.

I did compete against him, and I didn't watch my back.

Now, I'm in the nurse's office with an aching arm, adrenaline diminished. It's not the bearable ache either. It's the kind that makes you want to rip your bones out and your head spin.

The school nurse, Matthew Zinnia, kneels, carefully applying a hard cast to my arm.

"This is the fourth time this week you've been here," he says.

I wipe my nose with my free arm. "So?"

He looks up at me briefly. "Kids don't get bruised noses randomly."

"I do."

He sighs. "And every time I ask about your home life---"

"There's nothing to talk about. Everything's fine, so quit worrying," I say, and wince when he bumps my arm.

"Sorry," he says.

There's a stretch of uncomfortable silence while he finishes my cast.

He stands and dusts his hands off. "You'll have to wear that for a good eight-to-nine weeks. Knowing you, probably nine."

I look at him. "Wait. You mean I won't be able to play for two months?" That would only leave a month for tournament preparations.

"That's just how long you'll have the cast. It could take half a year to heal completely."

"Half a year?!" I stand. "I can't wait that long. My tournament---"

"Will have to wait," Matthew says, turning back to me. "You won't be doing anything with that arm. You broke it, for God's sake."

I groan and rake a hand through my hair. This won't do. If I'm not there, my team will have to resign.

Matthew pats my shoulders. "Sorry, son. That's just the way things go."

"Yeah, when your opposing team plays dirty," I mutter under my breath.

The coach might not have caught it, but I know Juniper tripped me in that court.

"So, you know who did this? Or did you just fall?" Matthew asks. He puts a couple bottles in the cabinet.

I scowl and wipe my nose again. "No. I just fell."

Matthew sighs again. "I was hoping you'd tell the truth this time. Get on home. Your mom'll be worried."

If she's sober, I thought.

"Bye." I do a peace sign and leave.

I walk down the hallway, my arm still aching like hell. Voices hit my ears and I duck behind the wall.

"I mean, come on, really?"

My basketball team. I go to stand, but the next sentence stops me in my tracks.

"I don't even know why they let that Italian scum be the captain of our team anyway."

The others laugh.

"Alright, guys, that's enough." Evan. "You know how seriously this school takes discrimination."

Their voices fade into the distance.

My breathing picks up and I can feel tears prick my eyes. Evan was the one I trusted, and he's betrayed me.

I clench my teeth and stand. I do the only thing I've ever known. I ran.

Ran to my favorite spot in the world.

When I arrive at the bridge, I nearly scream.

The person waiting for me turns out to be the person I want to see the least. Juniper.

I cross my arm on the rail, the other pressed to my torse with a sling. At this time, the water glows orange and pink from the sky.

"Hey."

I scowl at Juniper. "What?"

He rubs his neck with a shy look, eyes downcast. "I'm sorry."

I turn away. I really don't know what to say to that. Juniper has never apologized to me. For anything.

He crosses his arms on the rail and stares out at the water, too. "You have every right to hate me. I pretty much broke your arm. But it was an accident. So, I'm sorry."

I hate how ready I am to forgive him. "It'll heal."

He smiles at me, but it almost looks pitying. "Truly nothing fazes you, does it?"

"What do you care? Even if it did faze me, which it doesn't, you shouldn't care." I really don't like that smile. It pisses me off.

He bumps my shoulder with his. "We should hang out more. Outside of the court."

I scowl and wipe my nose. "Why would we do that? That just makes things complicated."

Juniper plays with his hands. "'Cause you're a good kid. And we have a common interest."

"A common interest where we oppose each other."

He chuckles. "Yeah, I guess. But that's only for this tournament. Then we move on."

I stare hard at the water in an attempt to not look at Juniper. "My teammates hate me."

To be honest, that wasn't intentional. I really didn't mean to say that.

Juniper turns his body to face me. "Why is that?"

I blink against the stupid pricks in my eyes. "I don't even know. All I know is they called me Italian scum."

"Xenophobia," Juniper mutters, tone dripping with disgust. He puts his hand on my shoulder and I wince a little. "Don't let those assholes get you down. I think it's awesome that you're Italian."

I can't help the laugh that escapes my throat. "You make it sound like it's a choice."

"Even if it was, I'd still think you're awesome," he says.

I frown, remembering I'm supposed to be mad at him. "Well, I think you might be the only one."

"Hey, Martin."

I look at him. "Hm?"

"I. . .um, haha. . ." he trails off, eyes on the water and hand on the back of his neck. "This is awkward. Um, I've got a secret."

I sigh and roll my eyes. "Get on with it, then."

He hesitates a moment. "You can't tell anyone. Absolutely no one. But I'm. . .not into girls.