Shaena sat alone at the front of the bus for the trip home. She put in her earphones and pretended to sleep, trying to ignore the chatter of her teammates in the back. When the bus pulled up to the school, she hurried to her mom’s car without saying goodbye to anyone.
As they left the parking lot, Shaena felt her phone buzz inside her coat pocket. It was a text from Marisol that simply read, the park.
Shaena knew instantly where Marisol meant. There was a park within walking distance of both their houses. It had a small basketball court where Shaena and Marisol had been playing hoops ever since they could dribble a ball.
“Mom, I need to meet Marisol at the park. Please? I don’t have any homework or anything,” said Shaena.
“Sure, honey,” Mom replied. “That sounds like a great idea.”
“Really?” asked Shaena. She wasn’t usually allowed to go out on school nights.
“Really,” her mom confirmed. She was quiet for a moment. “I know it’s been hard sitting out this week. If you don’t want to talk to me about how you’re feeling, talk to Marisol. She’s your friend.”
Shaena didn’t say anything, but she knew her mom was right. She was tired of feeling sad and angry. She couldn’t avoid talking to Marisol any longer.
Her mom stopped next to the park. “Call me when you’re done,” she said. “I’ll come get you both for dinner.”
Shaena nodded and got out of the car. Marisol hadn’t arrived yet, so she sat down on a bench next to the familiar concrete court. After a while, she could see Marisol walking up the sidewalk.
“Hey, Mari. What’s up?” Shaena asked quietly when the other girl had reached the court.
Marisol dropped down beside her. “Shaena, what’s going on?” she asked.
Shaena cleared her throat. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve been, like, really mad lately,” Marisol started. “You’ve just been sitting at practice looking grumpy. You won’t talk to me or anyone on the team. And I heard what you said to Jessie today in the locker room. That was really mean.”
Shaena opened her mouth to tell Marisol that she had it all wrong, but she stopped. Marisol didn’t have it all wrong. Shaena was guilty of all of the things her friend had said. But Marisol had no idea what the past week had been like.
“I’m sorry, Mari,” Shaena mumbled, pulling up her jacket against the chilly air.
“Okay,” said Marisol, sounding frustrated. “But what’s going on? Are you mad at me? Are you mad at the team? Please tell me what’s bothering you. I miss you.”
Shaena looked up in surprise. “What?” she asked.
“I miss playing basketball with you,” continued Marisol. “And I miss seeing you happy. I miss my friend.”
“Oh,” said Shaena. “Well, I . . . I miss you too.” She sniffed and then burst into tears.
“Hey, hey,” Marisol said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “What is it, Shaena? You can tell me.”
The words poured out like a flood. “It’s this stupid concussion,” Shaena said through her tears. “I have a headache all the time, and I can’t play basketball, and I’m letting down the team, and Jessie is going to take my place on the team and be your best friend.”
Shaena broke off, sobbing. She hadn’t really realized how much she had kept bottled up these last few days.
“Oh, Shaena,” said Marisol, leaning in to give Shaena a hug.
But Shaena drew back — Marisol was smiling! Was she making fun of her?
“Wait, why are you smiling?” asked Shaena.
“Sorry,” apologized Marisol, still smiling. “But I need you to listen to me for a second. Are you listening?”
Shaena wiped her eyes and nodded.
“First, I’m so sorry you got a concussion,” began Marisol. “But you shouldn’t feel ashamed about it. I did some reading about concussions after you got hurt, and —”
Shaena let out a small laugh. “Of course you did.” Marisol was always reading up on things. She was like a walking encyclopedia sometimes.
Marisol smiled. “I know — I’m a total nerd. Anyway, I found out concussions are actually a super common injury,” she explained. “Especially for athletes. A whole bunch of professional basketball players have had concussions. And some of them couldn’t play for weeks!”
“Wow,” said Shaena softly. “I didn’t know that.”
“Me neither,” said Marisol. “Now, about this replacing you thing.” She looked directly into Shaena’s eyes. “Seriously? You’ve been my best friend since we were two years old. We’ve been playing HORSE at this park since forever. Right?”
“Right,” agreed Shaena.
“And you’re a really good basketball player. You work harder than anyone else. And you’re usually a great teammate,” said Marisol with a pointed look.
Shaena hung her head. Marisol was right. She had definitely not been a good teammate lately, especially to Jessie.
“You can’t be replaced — not ever,” Marisol assured Shaena. “But which do you think would be better for our team — one good post or two good posts playing together?”
Shaena sighed. She had been acting silly. “Two good posts?” she asked jokingly.
“Right. Now, please concentrate on getting better so that we can actually have two good posts playing together, and maybe we’ll have a shot at beating North next week. Got it?” Marisol asked.
Shaena grinned and threw her arms around her best friend. “Got it.”