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Y
our period on?” Tyrelle Davis is sitting on the gym floor with his legs open wide. He does not wait for Autumn to respond. He looks at the guys on his team, then hurls more words her way. “I hate that. Wrestling you when you're menstruating —”

He bends forward to touch his toes. “Same thing last time … I can always tell.” He pinches his nose closed. “You smell.”

There are thousands of people at the tournament. Guys. Coaches. Girlfriends. Parents. With thirty-five schools represented. As usual, Autumn is one of the few girl wrestlers. She has been to the restroom three times since we deboarded the bus. It's because of Tyrelle, Coach said. Tyrelle has never won against Autumn.
“But he gets up in her head like termites in wood — chewing away her confidence.”

Our team was given specific instructions. Keep him away from her. “Let the match determine the best,” Coach has said. “Not the fists.”

I cannot tell if she is shaking because she's nervous or because she's angry. “Ignore him, Autumn. Keep walking. The tournament will start soon.”

Tyrelle's team is everywhere. Twice as large as ours, they lay on the bleachers: asleep, resting, talking, stretching. They stand near the walls, working knots out of one another's arms and legs, taping torn wrestling shoes, spying on pretty girls.

Running in their red-and-white uniforms, circling the gym with other teams, they chant, “Raiders, go. Raiders, yo.”

Tyrelle brings up the size of Autumn's chest. “Bacon bits.” His teammates sitting nearby laugh so hard, they tear up some.

Autumn's knee is a rocket aimed at Tyrelle's shoulder blade. She pounds it over and over again.

He falls over onto the floor, laughing hysterically. I saw him wince when she hit him. It hurt. He deserved it.

A girl in this sport can accomplish a lot. But that does not mean every guy likes it. Most guys do not want to lose to a girl. With us it becomes a mental thing: how to win against a girl and not be embarrassed. With girls, it's physical. We are much stronger than they are.

For Autumn to win so often speaks volumes about her determination, strength, and training. If only she were smart.

Leading her by the elbow, I encourage her to go be with our team. I push my wheels and try to make small talk with her.

Tyrelle is an idiot. He throws his knee pad at her. “For extra protection.”

Pow.
Tyrelle looks at me, surprised.

I detest violence. I dislike Autumn. But bullies — I hate them more than I hate Patricia. I had to punch him. Sometimes fists are required.

Grabbing both my arms, he tries to pull me from my seat. Fists are flying. Autumn and other wrestlers join in, too. Coaches from other teams try to separate us and calm everyone down.

A ref leaving the men's room gets everyone's attention when he issues us a warning. “Go find your teams, or forfeit.”

Wrestlers are exceptionally disciplined, single-minded, and focused. None of them would want to come here and go home without challenging their opponent on the mat. Quietly they walk off, sit down, or put headphones on their ears and close their eyes. Tyrelle passes by Autumn and me. “On the mat,” he says to her, “I'm going to finish you.”

M
rs. Carolyn ask to touch my cheek.

“Go ahead.” It's bruised. Black and blue. Purple, too. Tyrelle's foot hit it. “It don't hurt … too much.” I stick my book bag under the front desk. Proud when I say I sent him home in a arm sling. Bet he was double mad. I took second place at the tournament.

Her finger slides over my cheekbone. Then it goes up to her lips. “Shush.” Jaxxon at the computer, talking, one hand is on the keyboard, one arm is around some girl's shoulders. His lips head for her mouth. Mrs. Carolyn is asking them to separate.

She never seen me wrestle. She won't, either. She'd rather read about some things than watch 'em, she telling me. I look around for him. He here. Avoiding me, I
think. When I came in and spoke, he kept his eyes on the book he was looking at. Sailboats racing 'cross the ocean. That's all I could see. He wouldn't say what he was reading. I asked, then went to look for the librarian, itching.

Standing on my tiptoes, I pull up my pant leg. Showing off the scar under my left knee. I'm proud of that, too. Got it at my first match. I lost. It keeps me hungry, though.

Mrs. Carolyn is expecting a class, so she can't show me around. She told Adonis to show me the ropes. It's my first day volunteering. He can't get away from me now.

A gold top. Matching sweater. Purple scarf. Black tights. That's what I'm wearing. Plus heels. Well, boots with heels. After a match, sometimes it's hard walking in 'em. Everything can hurt the next day. Even feet. Fingernails. Sneezing. Switching can hurt, too. I move my hips and butt side to side, slow and hard. When I get to him, I bat my eyes. Not too hard, though. It makes my ears hurt. Bending down, I press my arm next to his. “We match. Both of us got on gold tops.”

The girl with Jaxxon opens her mouth when his lips get near hers. My mouth opens a little, too. I swallow, looking down at Adonis.

He hands me papers. “Here's the list.” He pulls a book from the shelf. Sits it on a table. “We're weeding today.”

“Huh?”

“Getting rid of old books.” Mrs. Carolyn will sell some as part of a fund-raiser and give some away, he saying, looking over his shoulder at her. “Many will end up in the trash.”

I sit down cross-legged on the floor. Jaxxon hollers across the room. He got a question about math homework. I ain't know he did stuff like that.

Adonis ask how I'll work from down here. Holding on to both chair handles, pulling myself up, I stop, bend over, face-to-face with him — closer than I ever been. For a second I smell the soap he washed with and see two cavities at the back of his mouth. I thank him for looking out for me on Saturday.

He's whispering. “I know what you're trying to do, Autumn.”

I'm still holding on.

“It's ridiculous. You cannot force me to like you.” Trying to get away from me, he backs into a cart. Books fall. I almost do, too.

Catching two books on their way down. Picking three off the floor. I sit them down, checking out the
titles. “
The Bean Trees
,” I say out loud. The other titles I say in my head.
Two Trains Running
.
Kindred
. Even one about moving somebody's cheese.

Jaxxon walks by with a book stuffed in his back pocket. His eyes leave my face, taking their time all the way down to my feet, like I'm the Statue of Liberty and he got all day to look around. “Nice … shoes.” He walks away backward. Yawning.

Adonis watches him, even when Jaxxon's outside the library, tapping the window on his way up the hall.

Mrs. Carolyn comes over, asking if Adonis is being a proper assistant. “Yes. He's very good.” I ask about one of the books I picked off the floor. “May I have this?”

My manners are impeccable, she says, reading the title. It's something about how the universe was formed. The book is so old, she laughs, she bets there were only half as many planets discovered when it was written. “Take your time. Read it. Let's talk.”

“Let's talk?”

She hands it to me. “I'm a librarian, Autumn. A Spelman girl, by the way. A student says she wants to read a book. I wanna know what she thinks about it.”

Adonis turns his head, laughing.

I could kick myself. I came to volunteer. Not do no extra work.

I
forgot everything — my chess set, checkers, dominos, sudoku. I left home early with Ma to tutor Mr. Epperson's students. The regulars — the able-bodied people — I do not like them very much. They are lazy, among other things. Mr. Epperson thinks it will be good for me. Who knows why. I'll work with them once a week because I think he's great.

Every Monday I play games with students from the van during lunch. Thankfully, Ma brought my things to me. Now I'm setting up.

“Hey, Adonis. What you doing?”

Autumn walks over to Roberto, giving his cheek a little pinch. “Hi, Roberto.”

Roberto shoves his chair into mine, scrapes Tyreanna's
wheels just to be closer to Autumn. “Autumn. I … I … like your hair.”

She bends down to his height, complimenting him on his outfit. There he goes again. Drooling. Seventh graders and their braces. I point to the box on the table. “Roberto, get yourself a tissue.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. I ask if he'd like to help me set up. He reminds me that he has another paper due. “Sure, I'll help you,” I say after he asks. He mentions the laptop I promised to give him. I always honor my word. He will receive it after I've worked with him a bit longer.

Autumn walks to the other end of the table, showing us how slow she can move. How tight her pants fit at times. Without my permission, she opens the box of checkers. Roberto backs his chair up, practically taking mine along, too. The chess set in my lap topples.

Picking up the pieces, Autumn asks if I would teach her to play someday. “I always did wanna learn.” Queens and kings get put on the table. Smiling, she asks, “What's this?”

“A pawn.” I've never liked people to do things for me. When I was young, my father would not permit it, either. How can you be independent if everyone is picking up after you? Reaching behind my back, I pull a
stick from its sleeve. They've given me special permission to bring it in. It has a claw on the end. I made it a few weeks ago. Lots of little pieces need picking up on Mondays.

“Sit next to me, Autumn. I'll teach you to play.” Roberto's wheel rolls over one of my pieces.

Autumn eats with Patricia every day. Now that she is volunteering twice a week, she says Patricia is a little upset. “Sorry. I have to go.”

I look back at Patricia's table. Paper and books are spread about. Hard work isn't all you need to succeed.

More students head toward our table. Roberto is still trying to convince Autumn. “I guess if I eat lunch with y'all, it would be okay.” She opens her lunch bag and explains to Roberto why she is only having boiled egg whites and skim milk for lunch. Looking at me, she smiles.

I knock over my drink with my elbow. Rushing to the front of the caf for napkins, she hardly speaks to some of the guys on the team who call her name. She comes back, wiping up my mess. I almost tell her that regulars are not wanted at this table, but Raven walks in. No, she rides in on Michael Jones Kellerman's back. He is her horse. She leans left, and he walks in that direction. She leans right, and he gallops into line.

Patting the chair next to him, Roberto begs Autumn to please stay.

There are chess pieces still on the floor and dirty napkins balled up in front of me. I blurt it out. “Get away from our table, Autumn.”

A hand on my shoulder silences me.

“Oh, Ma.” I'm mortified. I even want my mother to see me at my best.

She is holding a tray. The aide who usually makes our treats is off today. Ma agreed to fill in. We both forgot them. “They were in the trunk. I didn't remember until I was miles away. M&M's cookies and brownies.”

Autumn interrupts. “I bake. Lots.”

“Autumn Knight. I saw you in the paper.” You would think she was a movie star. Ma mentions the Parnelle Classics and how Autumn dominated a second ranked state wrestler there. Then she compliments her on the highlights in her hair. “Fabulous.” Ma promises to come to another match sometime soon.

“When you coming? Which day?” Autumn takes the plastic wrap off the food, sitting it on the table. She hands out snacks to the others.

Now Ma will know how I feel. Autumn is pushy.

Autumn brings up her history teacher. He said if someone is serious about visiting you, or taking you
out for a meal, they will give you an exact date. “If you don't, you ain't serious. That's what he said.” Biting into a brownie, she starts naming some ingredients Ma might want to include next time. “Tastes good though, thanks.”

Ma laughs. “He's right. I'll be there tomorrow.” She kisses me, squeezes Roberto's shoulder, then says goodbye to everyone else.

I'm upset with the both of them. But here comes Jeff, leaning on crutches, dragging his left leg. “Ha you doin', Adonee?” We bump fists. “Winning daday.” He sits beside me. Tyreanna likes him. Holding his hand, she says hello.

“Cheeker! Play cheeker wit me.” Jeff would like to play checkers with me.

“No. We played together last time.”

He likes to get his way, so he grunts and shakes his head. He'd like in on the game now.

“Play something else, Jeff.”

“Ummmmm. Ummmm.” He makes a sound like the buzzer you press to enter our school.

“Quit it.” I'm getting a headache.

“Brat.” Lisa looks back over her shoulder. “Spoiled always want your own way. No!” She moves over one seat.

Tyreanna says he may play with her.

Jeff fools teachers and scares some students with his noises. He can be pushy and likes to have his way. We all know better. Disabled doesn't mean dumb. Sometimes we take advantage of people who think we are broken or weak.

I let Jeff have it. “Shut up. Play with someone else.” I turn to Autumn. “Can't you see I'm busy? Leave! You're giving me a headache. I don't like you. Stay away. God. How can you be so stupid?”

Our entire table quits talking. Guys from our team sitting a few tables away do as well. Patricia calls to Autumn, “Don't be over there with him. Told you how he is.”

Mr. E. has lunchroom duty. Mrs. Sullivan is with him. They look shocked. Autumn is ruining my reputation.

Roberto asks why I am picking on Autumn. He apologizes for me. Tyreanna says being rude to a girl is unacceptable. She uses my words against me.

Autumn kneels down. She blinks. Then blinks again. I look away. I do not like to see girls cry.

“Adonis — I still like you. Even if you ain't perfect. But can't nobody talk to me like that.” Standing up, she lets the rest of the table hear. “Not even you, who I love more … than I love Peaches.”