back anymore. More people stood. They stormed the aisle, a building hubbub as everyone figured out how easy it was to escape. Ms. Florgen and Mr. Jankowski shouted for help, but it was too late. The students were free.
* * *
Amira had found her way back to the gymnasium and run a few sprints up and down the bleachers. Then she’d spotted the basketballs that had been used in the tournament on a rack pushed up against the wall, and she’d been shooting around since.
Amira was used to keeping her own company. Training led to a lonely life, and though Amira was friendly with most people at school, and would even call some of the teammates on her various teams friends, she wouldn’t often go more than a few hours in people’s company. It wasn’t that she had an introvert’s urge to recharge her batteries on her own, necessarily, nor that she had agoraphobia that built up over the course of a day. It was merely that there was always another bit of training to complete. She always felt compelled to step away and improve herself. Since she was used to spending time alone, after a while in other people’s presence it felt right to revert to that standard. Which wasn’t to say that was her ideal situation, per se.
She found herself thinking of people often, almost longing for them. Sometimes while running around her neighborhood, or along the pathways in the city’s large central park, she’d have these little daydreams that someone was running with her, and in between breaths they’d talk. Freely, about the two worlds Amira inhabited, and how she might get them to meet without a catastrophic result. The other person, in these fantasies, sometimes listened with a sympathetic ear but never seemed able to offer the advice she needed to figure out how to make it happen.
Other times, the fantasy could turn romantic.
It wasn’t common for her. Even if her mom’s voice wasn’t constantly in her mind dissuading her from even thinking about it (a girl could not), Amira had no time to worry about someone else’s body. She was too focused on taking control of her own.
Still, she was human, and despite the guilt that came with it, sometimes it was where her mind went. Sure, she wasn’t allowed to date, much less someone outside her religion, and definitely (she guessed) not of her gender. But that’s exactly what Amira was doing at the moment, surprised that the fantasy was so vivid now of all times. Yes, yes, her eyes and how they made Amira feel whenever she walked into class in the mornings. Yes, there was Marisa’s ability to speak her mind, and there was the way she did it with a smile. But before, her guilt at defying her upbringing and her family would muddle the fantasy before it could fully play out. Her mother’s voice would echo in her head, interrupting Amira’s thoughts, stopping the imagined joy in its tracks before she could begin worrying about the consequences she might endure if that joy ever left the realm of the imaginary.
So why was that defense mechanism failing her now?
This was how it went: Amira dribbled the ball twice (thunk thunk), then rested it against her right hip. Two deep breaths, then another quick one before shooting. The whole while, her mind was taking laps around a mall with Marisa.
Both were dressed up in a similar manner, as if they wanted to impress the other without making the intention perfectly clear. Amira couldn’t fathom what people talked about on dates, so she tuned out that part and instead focused on the visuals.
If you make fifteen in a row, she’ll hold your hand (thunk thunk), Amira thought to herself, goose bumps shooting down her arms as soon as the fifteenth shot swished through. They walked through the mall like that, taking laps hand in hand, smiling at each other, making each other laugh. At thirty, she’ll sit in a dark movie theater with you and lean in and kiss you (thunk thunk). A ball clanked off the rim, and Amira started the date all over again.
Amira could still feel the tingle on her arms as she walked over to the water fountain near the bathroom, which put her in view of the girl chained to the exit.
* * *
She went over to Joy, slightly off-put by the lingering desire and wanting to put it out of her mind. The gym was quiet now