The game moved so quickly I could hardly keep track. I barely touched the ball, and Millie only managed to bounce it once before Luca zoomed by and dribbled it out from under her. Every time Nic passed me, it felt like he was deliberately slowing down so I could feel him brush against me, and I kept blissfully forgetting I was supposed to be marking Luca. By halftime, we were behind by six points.
At the start of the third quarter, Robbie passed the ball to me — I was standing near the basket, wide open. I sprang up, but the ball was knocked from my hands before I could shoot. It bounced away as Gino barreled straight into me. I would have flown off the court if Nic hadn’t jumped out of nowhere, catching me from behind. I stumbled against him with a thump.
“Careful,” he panted, his breath unsteady on my neck.
“Nic!” Luca yelled. “Heads up!”
I looked up just in time to see a big orange blur whizzing directly at my face. My head slammed backward into Nic’s chest, and he grabbed me as I slumped against him.
“Tu sei pazzo!” Nic screeched over my head.
Tears started to stream down my cheeks, mingling with the blood that was pouring from my nose.
A little crowd formed around me.
“Sorry.” It was Luca’s voice, but I couldn’t focus on him. “I did say ‘Heads up,’ though.”
“Why would you pass the ball to me when her face was in the way?” Nic seethed over me.
“Why would you be feeling her up in the middle of a basketball game?”
“Vaffanculo!”
I didn’t need to understand Italian to guess what that meant.
Millie whipped off her vest and handed it to me. I started to dab my nose, pinching the bridge with my free hand to stop the bleeding and trying not to smell the years of stale boy-sweat that had been encased in the mesh.
“Can everyone just give her some space?” Millie demanded.
Nic pulled his hands from my waist and joined the others, who were all staring at me with various levels of concern. Except Gino, who was tracking the movements of a nearby butterfly and snickering to himself.
“Do you think you can keep playing, Sophie?” Alex asked.
Nic bristled, turning on him. “Are you serious, dude? That’s all you can think to say?”
“What the hell is your problem?” Alex shot back.
Before Nic could retort, Millie was stomping her feet on the concrete like the angriest two-year-old imaginable. “What the hell is wrong with both of you? Stupid boys and your stupid competitiveness. Just shut up, all of you! Sophie and I are absolutely not continuing this childish game with you hotheaded Neanderthals so you can win some stupid, cheap-ass trophy. We want no further part in this pathetic charade.”
“I — ” Luca began.
“No!” Millie raised her index finger and pointed it directly into his eye like she was about to poke it. “Not another word from you. If you have something to say, you can write it in a card and send it to Sophie’s house with the nicest flowers money can buy. And you can say how sorry you are for being a giant ass and nearly killing her. She could have died. Do you understand that? Died! And all you have to show for it is that smirk. I don’t think it’s one bit funny, and I’ll have you know I am a great judge of humor. So why don’t you wipe that smile off your god-awfully perfect face and grow a sense of humanity, you smug douchelord.”
I couldn’t quite fathom how everyone was managing not to laugh at Millie’s ridiculous dramatics. If I had been in slightly less pain, I would have been doubled over on the ground myself.
“Mil — ” Alex tried.
“No, Alex!” she shouted. “I don’t want to hear your excuses, either. Where did you even come from anyway? I find it hard to believe we crawled out of the same womb. If you’re not man enough to go through life without a fake trophy telling you something about yourself, then you’re not man enough to speak to Sophie or me. And that goes for all of you morons.” She grabbed me by the arm and started pulling me away from everyone. “We are going to the sidelines, where there is ice cream. And that is final!”
I could see the lingering shock in their eyes; they had obviously underestimated Millie. Nic was boring holes in his brother’s forehead. If looks could kill, Luca would have been long gone from this world.
“Resume play?” I heard Alex say as we left the court.
“I can sit the game out to make it even.” My heart leapt at Nic’s suggestion.
“No way. We finish it like this. We’ll still beat you.”
Stupid Alex.
* * *
After the game, Nic found me on the sidelines nursing my nose with an unopened Popsicle. Millie had gone in search of Dom to try and salvage their burgeoning love after her crazy outburst on the court. Alex had stormed off in a huff, and Luca was probably strolling around somewhere with a giant trophy tucked under his arm.
“Congratulations on your win.”
“Thanks.” Nic sank onto the grass beside me and pulled his knees up, wrapping his arms around them. “But I don’t think a two-foot plastic trophy is going to improve my life much.”
“You probably would have lost if I had continued playing,” I teased. I took the Popsicle away from my nose and wiggled it around to restore some feeling, relieved that it didn’t seem broken.
“Good as new,” Nic said. He leaned closer to get a better look and I noticed a small sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of his nose. “It’s perfect.”