My eyes are still pinched closed, but I can hear the sound of footsteps scattering in every direction. Everyone running for their lives.
Brandon might think he’s cool, because he’s a 5th grader, but my brother is in middle school.
I want to watch them all flee like the cowards they are, but I’m afraid to move. If I don’t move, maybe the pain will go away.
Still trying to catch my breath, I focus my attention on the soft bounce bounce bounce of the dropped ball.
James crouches down next to me, “You okay, Lou?”
Opening my eyes, I nod, not sure I won’t cry if I try to talk out loud.
I hear more steps approach and I’m sure it’s Tony, my brother’s best friend. They’re always together.
“James, toss me that ball.”
Still on my hands and knees, my spine stiffens. That’s not Tony’s voice. It’s too deep. It’s… Ohmygod, it’s Beckett. Tony’s older brother.
Carefully, I turn my head to watch James scoop up the ball and underhand it towards the voice.
A shadow passes over me, and I have to keep turning my head to see all the way up to the person’s face.
My heart rate starts to beat wildly all over again. It’s definitely Beckett.
Except he’s not looking at me. No, he’s looking down the street.
“Brandon!” he booms.
His shout is so loud, I swear it echoes off the houses lining the street.
Another voice whispers an “oh shit” and I know Tony’s joined the group too.
Following Beckett’s line of sight, I see Brandon running through a yard two houses down.
Beckett lets out a grunt of effort, a moment before Brandon slows to look back at whoever called his name.
The kickball is already whistling through the air and my mouth drops open.
No way.
No way is that gonna hit him from this far away!
The timing is perfect. Freaking. Per. Fect.
Brandon’s just turned around when the ball hits him square in the face. He didn’t even have time to flinch.
And the sound of rubber meeting person is the most satisfying thing I’ve ever heard.
Brandon’s arms fly out to his sides, and he falls flat on his back, landing like a knocked over tree.
James and Tony both let out loud whoops of laughter but I’m still staring in stunned silence. Not believing what just happened.
When another moment passes, and Brandon doesn’t move, I hear myself whisper, “Is he dead?”
Beckett snorts then shakes his head, “Nah, just got the wind knocked out of him. Serves the fucker right.”
Then Beckett looks down at me, and I forget how to breathe.
He’s so dreamy. His chocolate brown hair, his golden eyes, his-