Senior year. My last chance . . .
The Ballers took everything away from me last year. Riding the bench wasn't what I'd planned, and I don't want a repeat of that this season. I can't have a repeat of that, not if I want to accomplish all those goals I set for myself when I first came to RHS.
There's one problem though. One Baller is determined to keep me on the sidelines. I'm broken because of him. Physically broken.
I can't let that stop me though. There's so much riding on this year, and I won't let anything-or anyone-get in my way.
Contains mature themes.
The Ballers may have the upper hand at RHS.
I underestimated them, their cruelty, their ability to look the other way when something hits them over the head, but camp is a whole other story. Their asses are mine.
Contains mature themes.
I knew I'd ruffle feathers, but the day I walked into Rockport High, I had no idea the cheap shots that were to follow.
You see, the Ballers and I have a history. They play basketball. I play basketball. But they hate that I play basketball as good as them. And the only thing they hate more than that, is me.
That's right. I'm a girl, and I. Can. Play. Make no mistake about it.
The Ballers can do their worst, but I will earn a spot on the RHS boys' team. This is my last resort to make a name for myself, and I can't let them interfere-even if the so-called kings of the school have declared war against me.
Contains mature themes.
