1. Accept that the hot senior/star varsity basketball player does not know you exist. (Even his dad, your actual math teacher, couldn’t remember your name at parent-teacher conferences.) Read Jane Austen novels to deal with your disappointment; undergo a comprehensive study of the term unrequited.

2. Go to cheerleading practice after school as usual. Clap, chant, and jump in the yellow lighting of the gymnasium until the basketball coach tells your coach he has the gym that day. Scowl at the sophomore boys when they laugh and mockingly wave goodbye. Lament that the boys in your own grade are beyond immature. Wonder if they know your name; wonder why you cheer for them at all. Schlep down the hall to the cafeteria. Slide green lunch tables out of the way so you have space for cheerleading stunts.

3. Forget about boys and hormones and pheromones and the way your heart gallops when you spot your crush on the stairs ahead of you on your way to Spanish class. Forget about your retainer and your back brace and your unibrow. Forget about how hairy your legs are and that you wish you had worn pants instead of shorts today. Forget that no one knows your name. Yell from your gut. Smile like you mean it. Clap until the palms of your hands ache like the hollow of your chest.

4. Place your hands on the shoulders of two other fifteen-year-old girls, the bases. Feel the hands of a third girl, the backspot, gently grip your waist. Look straight ahead at the wall as she begins to count: “One. Two.” (Raise onto the balls of your feet here.) “Three.” (Sink back onto your heels, bend your knees.) “Four.” (Jump up, land with your feet cupped in the other girls’ hands.) Feel the backspot guide your waist, feel her push your seat until you spring up to standi—

5. See only black. Feel only the weight of a hammer crushing the top of your head. Crumble to the cafeteria floor in the hands of your teammates. Sit. Regain your vision. Keep repeating, “I’m fine, I’m fine,” when you can’t think of anything else to say. Notice the way your head has a heartbeat. Notice the low ceiling beams. Notice the silence. Notice 15 girls staring at you. Notice your coach’s wide eyes. Tell her you are fine.

6. Laugh when your coach says, “Sweetie, there’s blood running down your face.” Wonder why it doesn’t hurt more. Walk to the bathroom, place a brown paper towel under the faucet, then wipe off the blood streaking from your hairline to your temple. Do not part your hair to find the injury. Wait in the cafeteria for your mom. Tell her you’re fine. Walk past cases of gleaming trophies in the hallway. Do not notice your shoes squeaking on the linoleum. Do not notice the boys in the gymnasium. Do not notice your crush walking just ahead of you until he is holding the door open for you and your mom.

7. Flick your eyes down to your squeaky shoes. Whisper, “Thank you,” and keep looking down. Hold your breath. Imagine him walking behind you in the parking lot. Imagine the dried blood caked in your hair. Imagine how you look right now, holding that ice pack on your head. Understand the phrase wanting to climb into a hole and die.

8. Cry at the pediatrician’s office because you think they are going to shave your head. Consider hugging the nurse when she says there will be no buzz cut. Do not wash your hair that night because you have stitches on your scalp.

9. Spot your crush on the stairs the next day and wish the nurse had shaved off your greasy hair. Swim in the current of his cologne. Change your mind and give thanks that you still have your greasy hair. Wonder if your crush remembers the girl with the ice pack. Realize you probably will never talk to him again. Realize you probably never would have talked to him in the first place. Realize you are a creep sniffing his cologne.

10. Wonder how long it will take to heal. Wonder how you haven’t been hurt before. Wonder how you ever stepped into their hands. Wonder if you’re really fine. Wonder at the damage a ceiling beam can do. Wonder at your tender flesh, your delicate bones, your shattering heart. Wonder why you never looked up.

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