For a moment, I only felt numb but immediately after, searing pain shot through my head. It only lasted a few seconds, but I knew it would start a headache.

The basketball responsible for the crime bounced from my lap into the row in front of me. It did not look the least bit guilty for its crime.

"Are you okay?" Avan asked, tossing the ball back onto the basketball court.

The concern on his face made me wonder if the ball had squashed my face flat. After considering it, I decided that I would have felt a difference if it had.

I nodded slowly and rubbed my temples with my fingers in an attempt to keep the headache at bay.

"Did you break something?" Brooklyn asked, inspecting my face for a trace of blood.

"No, I think I'm fine." I took a deep breath to make sure my numb nose could still execute its function.

One of the new players on the court yelled "sorry" with a sheepish smile on his face. I gave him a thumbs-up to let him know I was fine.

The guy Jayce had waved at earlier walked up the stairs to join us. He wore a white t-shirt under his basketball jersey even though the temperature inside the gym was sizzling.

"Sorry about that," he said to me, pointing back towards the court. "Bradley's new and he has no idea what he's doing."

He scrutinized my face, as to make sure everything was fine with me. He seemed to conclude that it was. Thankfully, his eyes couldn't see past the surface. If he saw what was going on inside my head, he would probably reach a different conclusion.

"It's fine. I think I'm good. It was just a ball."

"I'm Jimmy. I'm related to her." He sat next to Jayce and nudged her, a mocking smile playing on his lips.

"He's my brother," she replied, rolling her eyes. "By the way, idiot, how exactly do you get penalized during a scrimmage? That doesn't happen to anyone else!" She elbowed him in the side.

"Ow! It wasn't my fault. Apparently, I went too hard on the new kid. I'm sorry; I didn't know stretching was a crime."

"You tripped him up," Jayce corrected and shook her head in disapproval.

He shrugged with indifference. "It wasn't that dramatic."

"These anger management classes have failed you, Jim." Brooklyn laughed. "Which one's Bradley anyway?"

"Number seventeen." Jimmy pointed to a tall and muscled guy, running beside Matthew on the court.

"He's great," Jayce said after following the new guy's shots for a while.

"He's really not that good," Jimmy huffed.

Brooklyn turned to look at him with squinted eyes. "Are you jealous?"

"What is this, elementary school?" He crossed his arms on his chest. "He obviously cannot be trusted with a ball." He nodded towards me, as if I were the evidence. "See the bump on her forehead?"

I instinctively brought my hand to my head to check. Like he said, there was a small bump forming. What kind of strength did that new kid have anyway?

"Are you sure you're okay?" Jayce asked me, patting my shoulder to get my attention.

I was about to respond affirmatively when it occurred to me that this was my shot to leave without offending anyone.

"It feels like my head's spinning. I should probably go home now." It wasn't exactly a lie.

"Do you need a ride?" Avan asked, and I shook my head no.

"It's a short walk from here," I told him, wearing the most reassuring smile I could muster on-demand.

"Take care."

"Let Arson know I had to go home." I rose from my chair and half-jogged out of the gym.

The bright rays of the sun welcomed me when I walked out of the school building and almost seemed to whisper in my ears as I headed home, "You should have taken him up on that offer."

I didn't mind walking home. Since I didn't drive, walking was my favorite option.

What I did mind was the self-consciousness I felt when I passed by groups of students. I felt exposed and aware of my every step. What I did mind was the loneliness I felt when I recalled walking along this same sidewalk with Riley at my side.

Without her skipping beside me, bubbling with energy even after a long day, it felt like something was missing. And it was never coming back.

When I finally reached my house, I was in desperate need for a shower and a nap. My shirt was sticking to my body and my headache was still there.

Dad's car was already parked in the driveway. He was always home before me, these days. He used to work long hours on weekdays and often came home just before dark. But now, his work hours had been cut down to give him more time to rest.

Ironically, he looked more tired now than he did when he worked ten hours per day.

He stood from the couch when he saw me enter. He walked to me and opened his arms to hug me.

I knew he wasn't doing much better than I was so his apparent happiness was probably just to make me feel better. 

While his hug comforted me, it also made me feel guilty for failing to be more empathetic to his feelings all these months.

Being so caught up with grieving my own way had only added on to my dad's pain. Pushing him away had probably forced him to deal with the loss of two daughters all at once.

"How was work?" I asked, pulling out of his embrace and dropping my backpack by the couch.

He seemed taken aback by my attempt at starting a conversation.

"Good. It was good." Dad motioned for me to follow him into the kitchen. "One of my new clients is a local country artist. Apparently his last ski trip did not end very well." He took some leftover pizza slices from the refrigerator to heat them up. "How's Arson's wrist, by the way?"

Arson had fractured his wrist about five months ago. It was as good as new now, but Dad still worried about it.

"Dad, he's fine. That was ages ago."

He brushed his hair back and looked at me, skepticism clouding his eyes. I wondered if this was the same look he gave his physiotherapy clients.

"Sometimes, my patients come to see me again for additional therapy even months later," he said. "Some injuries never really go away. Besides, Arson is an athlete; he doesn't know the first thing about staying still. I doubt he followed his doctor's instructions."

I was not sure how to reassure him so I kept silent and leaned over the kitchen island.

"He doesn't grimace when he makes a shot?" he asked, making a face without realizing.

He took the plates out of the microwave and placed one in front of me on the counter.

"I don't think so, Dad."

He rested his elbows on the marble surface of the counter, taking a bite out of his pizza. He finally shrugged and I thought he dropped the topic, but something about his work experience must have not allowed him to.

"I guess I'll ask him when he comes over," he said with a smile that narrowed his dark eyes.

I chuckled at his concern and ate some of the pepperoni toppings.

My feet hurt from my walk earlier and standing did not help but I enjoyed spending time with Dad, even if it was just to listen to him overthinking everything.

As we ate and chatted, I prepared to settle in and spend the rest of the day reading when an unpleasant thought occurred to me.

I had invited Avan to hang out later. What was I thinking?

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Unfortunately, I found Avan's number after a few seconds of scrolling in my contacts and we were able to make concrete plans.

We agreed to meet at the park. It was within walking distance of both of our houses. I knew the way because Riley loved hanging out there.

It wasn't anything fancy. A bike path encircled the park and served as its boundaries. Several trees stood around the vast plain of grass extending for miles marked by make-shift soccer goals, a small basketball court with two portable hoops, a tennis court with a ripped net, and children spots with swings and slides.

But the main attraction of the park, at least for Riley, was the ice cream truck stationed right outside the park every afternoon.

As I stepped into the grass, I could feel her energy all around me as if she were here. I now gladly embraced the sun that had bothered me earlier.

At the risk of looking crazy, I took my shoes off and opened my arms to breathe in deeply like she used to do. There was something freeing about feeling the slightly-wet grass under my feet, the sun kissing my face, and the wind in my hair.

Riley did this every time she came to the park and I always watched her like she was insane because sometimes she really was. But now, I understood why she did it. It freed me of the undue weight on my shoulders.

For a moment, I felt more like her than myself.