LaRose(95)

The Warriors were relaxed and intent on the next serve. Coach had directed them to breathe from the gut, focus, and high-five every play even if it ended in a lost point. His philosophy was based on developing what he called team mind meld, where each player visualized exactly where her teammates were on the floor and where each player had the power of the whole team inside of her. But Nola only saw that Maggie was now stuck. Right in the line of fire. A sob of anxiety caught in Nola’s chest. But a buttery warmth now spread across Maggie’s shoulders.

Maggie looked so small and vulnerable, with her sylph frame and spindle legs. She could have been standing on the court alone. She crouched, arms out. Crystal served straight to her and Maggie set for Regina’s surprise left dump. Point. Next serve, from Snow, the other redhead burned the ball down Maggie’s left but Maggie flipped underneath and socked it high. Josette assisted Diamond, who landed a swift spike. Another point. Another. Tie. Braelyn stepped up and flared her vixen fury eyes. Maggie’s stomach boiled. Braelyn slammed the ball twice on the floor, impassive and stony mad. With a flick of power she sent Maggie her booby-trap special. It was supposed to break just over Maggie’s head and land behind her, but Maggie knew Braelyn’s arm now and with a surge of exuberance lifted off her feet. She swerve-spiked the ball into the donut. Kill.

Nola had been standing the whole time. A parent nudged Peter and he tried to pull her down.

Kill! She screamed into a spot of silence. Kill! Kill! Kill!

Maggie heard it and the butter swirled down around her heart. Peter tightened his arm around Nola’s shoulder, whispered in her ear, but she was someplace else. And this, oddly, filled him with relief. Because this was not fake or unreal, there was no hidden meaning. This was the Nola he knew, not the supersmiley one. This was the family dynamic, not the manufactured happy family with no aggravation, no anger, no loud voices, no pain allowed, where he felt alone.

He was for sure not alone now because Nola was going batshit.

Sit the goddamn hell down! It was the woman behind her.

Nola heard that command with a grape in her cheek. She turned, opened her mouth to give a dignified piece of her mind, and out it flew, exactly like a glob of green snot-spit, landing on the mother’s broad pink nose. A shocked pause. The father lifted himself, a squarish, bearlike man with sloping shoulders, a walrus mustache, a trucker hat that said Dakota Sand and Gravel. He put his arms out to shove Nola down, but having perfected her move on Father Travis she leaned forward and popped her breast into his grip. Trucker Hat yelped.

Get your paws off me, shrieked Nola.

Peter saw only the hands. Mrs. Trucker Hat was still wiping grape off her face when Peter let his fist fly. It felt so good to let the rage out, then instant remorse as Trucker Hat bent over, face in hands. Nola, however, went numb with pleasure. The game was stopped and thin, apprehensive Mr. Hossel was forced to extract the four parents from the stands. Nola dreamily slid out, clinging tight to Peter’s arm. Both failed to see that their daughter had blazed a beanball straight at Braelyn as the whistle sounded to stop play. Distracted, Braelyn let down her guard and sustained a facial. Now her nose was bleeding all over the floor.

The referee held up a yellow card and out went Maggie to the boos of Planet moms and dads. The Planets, hearts blistering, played with vengeant energy but lost control, faulted, missed easy returns, tried for nasty cut shots without the setup, and lost by eight points. The Warriors high-fived it and made a subdued exit. It didn’t feel exactly good, like a win; it felt like something bigger and darker had just played out.

They didn’t know the half of it, thought Maggie, still quiet with joy at the sight of Braelyn’s blood on the floor.

When Peter and Nola were escorted out, Landreaux and Emmaline followed. Braelyn’s bearlike father with the sore nose, and his wife, who was stocky and had a sensible Prince Valiant haircut, walked over to their pickup. There was no one in the lot to make sure the parents didn’t start another brawl, but the fight was out of the Wildstrands. And Maggie’s parents were embarrassed to be escorted out by Maggie’s science teacher. Mr. Hossel turned his soul-wounded gaze upon them, gestured apologetically with his scraped hands, and turned away. Nola was hyperventilating.

What if he takes back her A because of us?

We can bring Maggie back, said Emmaline to Peter, if you want to bring Nola home.

No, no, leave me alone, Nola gasped out. But Emmaline didn’t step away or change expression. Although her teeth were chattering, Nola wouldn’t get in the car. Mist had frozen in the air. Sparkling auras hung from each halogen light, cloaking the cars, frosted windshields, and gleaming asphalt with the peace of another world.

Emmaline nodded at the idling pickup. Braelyn’s parents! Mrs. isn’t even supposed to go to games. Last year she got suspended.

Before Nola could move, Emmaline put her arms around her and then released her so suddenly that the hug was over before Nola could even react.

We should stay here until the girls get to both cars, said Peter.

It wasn’t Maggie’s fault, said Landreaux. The ref blew the whistle while her hand was in the air.

The four of them stamped and beat their hands together against the cold.

Come on, said Peter, we’ll watch for Maggie from inside the car. He coaxed Nola to him, cajoled her along.

Nola gave Emmaline a long look as she turned away. It was something, the way Emmaline had hugged her. It hadn’t felt bad or good. She didn’t know how it had felt. Maybe normal was the way it felt.