Halifax by Leigh Dunlap

of you. I thought you all could go to the zoo together on Saturday.”
    “You’re kidding?” Farrell asked, truly dismayed at the very thought of it.
    “Of course, I am,” Mom said. “I told little Miss Suburban Nightmare to get the hell off my porch or I was going to kick her botoxed butt back to whatever cookie cutter McMansion she crawled out of.”
    “You’re kidding?” Farrell asked again.
    “No, I am not,” Mom said. “You may not be my favorite son, Farrell, but you are still my son and I’m not going to be nice to any sorry woman who gave birth to any sorry boy that’s treating you wrong. Now, it’s game night. Pick a card already!”
* * *
    The members of the varsity basketball team held their practice in the Lexham gym. They were split into two teams competing against each other in a friendly game that was anything but. Elbows were shoved into faces, players were slamming their bodies up against each other, and eyes were being poked. They may have all been on the same team when they played against another school but here it was every man for himself.
    The man who seemed most in it for himself was Andre Davies. He wasn’t just the captain of the team; he seemed to be the only player too. If anyone else had the ball it was an unwritten rule that they would pass it to Andre. If anyone else was open to take a shot it was an unwritten rule that Andre wouldn’t pass it to them. He would take the shot himself.
    Farrell was amused as ran up and down the court. He was a member of the Lexham Preparatory Academy’s varsity basketball team and he had never played basketball. Not once. Not even a pick up game on a playground. He had watched it on television a couple of times but hadn’t thought much of it. Bouncing a ball and throwing it through a hoop? Surely there were better things to do with your time.
    He was already studying the game though. Farrell was a quick study. He never for a second thought there was something someone else could do that he couldn’t do better.
    Coach Gwynn was yelling at the boys as he paced along the edges of the court. “Pick up the pace!” “Guard him!” “Move it!” Everyone else was sweating. Their hearts were racing, but not Farrell’s. He was used to running. He had to run a lot and he hated it. He hated running because, unlike most people, he didn’t run for exercise—he was usually running for his life.
    Farrell looked up into the bleachers that lined either side of the gymnasium and saw Nora Evans sitting there. She was leaning forward with her elbows on her knees and her head resting in her hands. She watched the action on the court with a complete lack of enthusiasm.
    For some reason that he would never have been able to explain to Izzy and Rom, Farrell felt the need to do something to get Nora’s attention. He wanted her to notice him. He had never wanted to be noticed before. He had never cared what anyone thought, especially what any girl thought, but now, standing on the court as practice swirled around him, he had to stand out.
    The other players were stampeding towards him, headed for the basket, passing the ball back and forth across the court and setting up the perfect scenario for Andre Davies to get the two points he believed to be his by right of birth. The unwritten rules again. Pass to Andre. Let Andre score. Make Andre happy.
    But Farrell, of course, hadn’t read the unwritten rules. He had rules of his own and none of them involved doing what Andre wanted. As the players ran by him one turned and passed the ball towards Andre, but Farrell stepped in and grabbed it out of mid air. He began dribbling back across the court towards his team’s goal. This was all easy enough. Bounce the ball and shoot it through the basket. Anyone could do that.
    Farrell was almost to the basket and about to shoot when Andre came full force across the court and slammed into him. The ball flew out of Farrell’s hands and Farrell hit the ground and slid five feet