"Your brain has some... spots."
"Spots?" I ask.
"Yeah. There are soft spots on your brain and your nose is broken."
"When can I play again?" I demand.
"Not before next year." He answers looking at his sheets of paper.
"What? No!" I yell. People outside the room turn an look at us.
"Honey. Calm down!" my mom walks into the room.
"Mom! I won't be able to play for a year! I am not going to calm down! How could I? I mean this is one whole year! After all of my hard work!"
"Linds stop!" my mom yells.
"I-"
"Just stop!" she says. The room is filled with eerie silence. "If you play now, you will have permanent damage done to your brain. It isn't worth playing now but having to end your career."
I turn on the heal of my sandals with a squeak like a mouse. I storm out of the room and sprint to the nearest empty room. Running makes my head throb, but I won't admit that to mom. I shut the door. Crouching down, I sit in the corner of the room and cry until my eyes are dry.
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HARDER THAN IT LOOKS
RandomI am a girl. So what? Almost all of my friends are boys. Big deal. We are all friends, brought together by the game. My strength: ball handling. My weakness: I am small. Tall, but very skinny. Size really matters in this game. I am playing better th...
