Page 35 of False Start
“Ow. Ryan,” I whine but he doesn’t let up. “You’re hurting me.”
“Swear you will not get this shit from anyone else.Now, you fucking brat.” The nickname is playful, but his face is nothing but serious, and the pressure still on my arm confirms it.
“I swear, ow, fuck, Ryan, let go.” I shake him off, but it’s only whenhedecides he’s satisfied that he releases me.
He cuts me a cold look, not bothering to apologize and ignoring me when I whisper curses in my mother’s native tongue. I rub my wrist; it’s red and the skin burns from trying to twist my way out of his hold.
“This isn’t 2012 anymore, Nia. Every dealer on the street is cutting their drugs for profits. They aren’t cutting it withTylenol or aspirin anymore. They’re cutting it with poison, with shit thatwillkill you,” he warns. “Promise me you willnotget it anywhere but from me.”
He’s so serious, it fucking hurts. It makes me want to dig a hole in the ground, bury my head, and disappear.
“I promise,” I whisper, not daring to blink in case it’s the wrong move.
He gets up and leaves the room. I could go, forgetabout this entire interaction and chalk it up to game day nerves. Ryan would play along, and in a few days, when all the pills are finally out of my system, I’ll feel better.
I wouldn’t think about them again.
But I don’t.
I stay, because I want to get high.
I want to forget.
I want to cease to exist.
Even if only in my own head.
He comes back withTheLion KingVHS in his hand and sets it down on the coffee table before he asks me one final time. “You’re sure about this?”
16
HARVEY
Am I obsessed? No. Can I stop thinking about Nia-Death? Also no.
I’ve convinced myself it’s normal to think about my enemy, myrival, this often. But as we lace up our skates, side-by-side in the locker room before our first bout as an official team, I can’t help but vibrate from camaraderie.
“How are you feeling?” StarScreamer asks her.
“I’m so nervous. Scott didn’t tell me who we were up against.” Her face is a little colorless, like the panic is very real.
“Wait, youjustfound out we were matched against the Wolverine Dreams?” Star looks pissed, her nostrils flared and her jaw set, like Scott has finally crossed the line for her.
She storms out of the locker room, and though I’m curious, I don’t bother asking. I don’t have to, because DreadPool does it for me. “What’s wrong with that team?”
Nia looks uncomfortable. She stares off to the side, avoiding eye contact as she tells the story. “That’s who we played against when I got hurt so bad thatI had to?—”
“Quit,” DreadPool finishes for her. “Shit.”
“He’s such an asshole.” Nancy pops the bubble on her gum as she slams her locker shut.
“No. I’m sure he didn’t know,” Nia defends him. “I can’t expect everyone to know all my business.”
She’s not wrong, but skaters should have been informed of who we’re bouting against long before the day of the bout. Niashouldhave been given the option to not skate today. There’s not a single part of me that thinks she would have sat this out, though.
“Are you gonna be okay?” K asks her, their hand at her elbow, forcing her to turn to face them.
She takes a deep breath, staring into K’s eyes before she nods.
