Page 113 of My Family

Ethan frowns.

He's still traumatized by our last art teacher.

I tell him about what I saw when Miles offered to help her.

"I'll keep an eye out," he says.

I nod.

I don't want Miles to get in trouble.

But there's definitely something going on.

The first fight after the tournament starts over a basketball.

During snack time, the court is already a battlefield. Half the guys want to play full-court; half just want to shoot around.

I don't play, obviously.

I prefer to stay sitting next to Ethan, my head on his shoulder, and if it were allowed, I'd definitely lie across his lap and nap.

Jack is also beside us, eating his sandwich and talking about Call of Duty, his favorite video game.

"I think they could definitely spare some cash and buy us an Xbox. But people would probably break it in two minutes, so they're probably right not to," he says, thinking aloud.

Tyler is playing basketball.

He's very good, and much more extroverted than Ethan. He has more friends than I managed to rack up in a year and a half.

And, of course, Reed is there too, talking shit louder than everybody else with that aggressive smirk he has, calling people names and shoulder-checking them with much more force than necessary.

The breaking point is a missed shot.

Tyler rebounds and tries to pass out, but Reed rips the ball from his hands hard enough that Tyler stumbles and lands on his ass.

It's not a big deal. The court is concrete, but we've all taken worse falls. Reed stands over him and says something under his breath. I don't catch it. Tyler's face changes instantly. He gets up, dusts off his palms, and squares up to Reed, eyes locked, jaw set. There's a pause. Then Tyler shoves Reed. Not hard, but not gentle either. Reed shoves back. Suddenly, everyone's moving.

A crowd forms, and the entire game stops as the two of them go chest to chest, arms raised. Ethan is already on his feet beside me, ready to go. The guards get there first, jogging over and shouting at them to knock it off.

Tyler and Reed ignore them. They're breathing hard, faces inches apart, and the whole world seems to have narrowed to the space between them. Montez tries again, this time louder. That's enough to make Reed step back, hands raised in mock surrender, the same smile still on his face.

Tyler doesn't move. For a second, I think he's going to take a swing anyway. Then the moment passes. Everyone starts talking at once, but they also get as far away from the guards as possible. Nobody wants detention.

Tyler gets the standard lecture about "respecting boundaries," "teamwork," and "appropriate emotional outlets."

He nods, says, "Yes, sir," and heads toward the water fountain.

Ethan goes after him. I follow, obviously.

"You okay?" I ask.

Tyler shrugs. "He's an asshole."

"What the fuck was that, Tyler?" Ethan starts, and I already know where this is going.

A long scolding.

Much worse than the guards'.