The Bad Boy and the Tomboy

ALMOST TOOK OFF HIS HEAD

Competition was the most consistent thing in my life. Whether it was on the soccer field against another team, video games against my fourteen-year-old brother, Justin, or a board game with my group of friends, winning was something everyone around me basked in.

Jasmine, one of my best friends, threw her arms up in the air in victory, her mouth filled with popcorn. "Yeeffftthhh!"

I captured her victory dance at the end of our popcorn-eating competition with my camera. Andrew, my other best friend, grimaced, "Don't get hotheaded. You won once."

The three of us surrounded the kitchen island at my house; empty popcorn bags littered the table. Sun rays streamed into the room through the windows, providing warmth despite the February air outside. The aroma from the multiple bags of buttered popcorn we had heated up in the microwave earlier was strong but not nauseating.

Jasmine flipped her box braids over her shoulder. "Shut up."

Here we go. I flicked through the pictures on my camera as their argument escalated. Andrew's blue eyes settled on Jasmine.

"I'm not trying to fight with you today."

"Then let's not try to pick fights," she quipped.

But, oh no. He just had to keep talking. "I know you're having a rough time since the breakup—"

"I don't want to talk to you about it," she said. "I don't want to talk to anyone about it." Jasmine got up and left the kitchen, then my bedroom door slammed shut upstairs.

"I told you," I chided. "We should give her space. Sean broke up with her only a few weeks ago."

Andrew ran a hand through his blond hair and looked at the now-empty doorway through which Jasmine had just exited. "I'll try to talk to her."

"You think you can get through to her?" The front door opened, and I recognized the person who entered by their footsteps. Justin. "She doesn't seem to favor you at the moment."

"She doesn't seem to favor men at the moment," Andrew added. "I'll be back."

"Macy!" Justin entered the room, a basketball tucked under his arm, as Andrew exited. My brother unzipped his thick sweater, ears red from the cold weather as he rubbed at his rosy cheeks. "You guys ate my popcorn?"

"I didn't."

"Liar."

"I said I didn't." As I nudged him in the ribs with my elbow he hissed, pushing my arm away.

"Anyway," he grumbled, sticking his head in the fridge.

"What's Andrew doing?"

"Get me a ginger ale, would you?"

"No."

I gave him a look and he handed me a can as he got water for himself.

"He's talking to Jasmine upstairs."

"Is that a good idea?" Even Justin knew about the strain between Andrew and Jasmine at the moment. "To have those two in a room alone together? The other day she almost took off his head." Good point. I took a sip of my drink, put it on the counter, and left the room to head off the potential war.

The two of them jumped when I opened my door, Andrew springing up from my bed to stand. I wasn't sure who to question first—Andrew had a strained smile on his face and Jasmine had a sudden interest in my bedsheets. "Everything all right here?"

"I should get going," Andrew mumbled.

"Are you going to practice tomorrow?" I asked.

"Of course. I'll see you guys then." And without another word he bolted from the room.