Action

            The ball ricocheted off of the palms of her hands before she steadied herself to take a shot. Gripping it, she launched it toward the hoop. Her hands flew in opposite directions as her elbows straightened, and the ball followed a narrow arc up toward the hoop. Clanging off of the back of the rim, it caught a lucky second bounce and slid through the net. Her next foul shots in the first half of the intramural game followed in the same fashion.

            Leading her team in points, she tried trick plays and silly maneuvers as they were ahead by 21. She sent a bounce pass behind her as she ran diagonally cross court to the hoop during a fastbreak, and her body tumbled across the paint until she knocked into the wall. Within seconds, officials and players were at her side, prodding her body parts.

            “Don’t touch IITTTTT!” she shrilled from the bottom of the pile. Three bodies bounced up and scooted to the bench. Lying on her back, she rolled from side to side clutching her knee to her chest like I had seen her hold her teddy bear so many nights. Her eyes squinted shut, eyebrows furrowed; she braced for more pain as she reached up for a helping hand. “Just stay still so I can grab you – don’t touch meee!” she squeaked, loud enough for the entire court to hear. After pulling herself up, she stood on one foot like a flamingo standing in a pond, trying to find her balance. One boy offered his arm at her side and she shoved it away. As she hopped to the sideline, I shrugged at her and rounded up my team to continue the game.

Barcelona

Palau Nacional, Barcelona

     She skips ever other step as she rushes to the top of the mountain of stairs that lead to El Museo Nacional d'Art de Catalunya. A drop of sweat trickles off of her nose and she whisks it away with the back of her left hand.

     "Jenna," her mother calls, 15 steps below her. "Would you slow down?"

     A gasp escapes from inside of Jenna, as she looks over the city while standing on a stone railing. Her mother and 5-year-old brother trek up the steps, hand in hand.

     "Jenna," her mother says. "You could just wait one minute. My goodness you're acting like you're 6 years old again, running away from us at Disney."

     The words bounce off of the 16-year-old girl, like a ball on a court. She takes in the Spanish sun as she gazes toward the Mediterranean Sea. Her father soon joins the family at Jenna's perch, after completing the climb up the steps.

     "Sorry hun," he says. "I had to get a few more shots on the way up. The view is great."

     Jenna's mother takes the camera from his hand, letting go of Derek's hand.

     "She's your daughter, that's for sure," her mother replies. "No matter what you say."

     Her father laughs and picks up the little boy.

     "What do you say we get a picture of the two of you kids, with the water in the background?" her father suggests.

     "Daaad --" Jenna starts.

     "Jenna, don't start this, please," her mother raises her voice slightly. "It's just a picture, anyway I don't see what the problem is. Now come down from there, sit over here with him."

     She points to a bench 10 feet away.

     "Yeah Wennah!" Derek shouts as he skips over to the bench.

     "Derek," Jenna growls. "It's Jen-nah, for the last time!"

     Jenna hops down from the railing and turns to her mother.

     "I don't have a problem taking a picture, Mom, but I do have a problem with him. He's constantly pulling my hair or messing my room up or --"

     "Not now Jenna, come on," her father interrupts. "We're on a family vacation right now. Please just go over there and stand with --"

     "DEREK!" her mother screeches , running toward the bench.

     Jenna's body snaps around 180 degrees in the direction of the scream, in time to see her brother's face panicked face as his right hand slips off of a stone railing, and his body disappear into the bushes on the mountain side.

Barcelona

El Born, Barcelona