Page 138 of Rock Bottom Girl

Holy fucking shit. Where the hell had that come from?

“Yo, Weston,” Haruko called. “Let’s huddle up.”

I would freak out later, I decided.

“Okay, Team Ass-tonishing All-Stars,” the official donkey handler said. “Remember, our primary goal is gentle donkey management. Don’t pull. Don’t push. Don’t kick. The donkeys are the stars, and you are their personal assistants. If poop happens, there are buckets and shovels at the end of each court. You are responsible for your donkey’s poop.”

Heh, Bertha had already unleashed her bowels, so I was covered for the duration of the game.

“We’ll be breaking for water, treats, and rest halfway through.”

The game lasted thirty minutes, which was about as long as the crowd could laugh without pissing their pants. And it kept the donkeys within their allotted cardio conditioning for the day.

We stood for the National Anthem, and then it was game time. I gave Marley a sassy wink.

* * *

Marley was a surprisinglygood donkey rider. Or her damn donkey had a crush on her. While Bill Beerman proceeded to fall off for the third time—the guy had zero balance—and Floyd chased after his escaped donkey, Marley trotted down the court clutching the ball. She missed the basket. But Principal Eccles rebounded it and swished it for two points. The two women high-fived from the backs of their respective donkeys as the crowd cheered.

Bertha was a heat-seeking missile on course to return to half-court when she got distracted by something. The entire girls soccer team. They were lined up on the first bleacher unbagging apple slices and carrot sticks.

I heard Marley’s laugh and flipped up the visor of my helmet to give her a stern glare. Of course she’d cheat. I was mad I hadn’t thought of it myself.

Three of my team’s four donkeys trotted over to graze happily out of the girls’ hands while Haruko faced the Ass-tute Achievers alone. The crowd was eating it up. I waved the ref over and demanded he call a foul. Marley rode over, and we went toe-to-hoof in a good-natured shouting match.

“She’s cheating, ref!”

“He’s just jealous he didn’t think of it first!”

The crowd was on its feet, and there was nothing even happening on the court. I could see the can collectors accepting fistfuls of cash and winked at Marley.

She grinned and then covered it with a fierce glare.

Bertha lunged at Marley’s hood and got another good bite.

“Aaah! Control your noble steed, you jackass,” Marley screeched at me as Bertha accidentally choked her with her death bite on the hood.

“Yellow card for trying to asphyxiate a member of the opposing team,” the ref said, shoving a yellow card in my face.

“Now you’re just making shit up,” I complained, wrestling Marley’s hood away from my hungry donkey. “Bertha, you’re making me look bad.” I swear to God she winked at me.

Marley skipped off with Donkey Ote and gave her team the thumbs-up. Karma was swift and judicious. When Marley tried to climb onto her donkey’s back, he turned in a tight circle, and she slid right over his back onto the gym floor. Her soccer team was hysterical. I jogged over and sidestepped Donkey Ote.

“Are you okay?”

She rolled over, tears streaming down her face.

“Oh, shit. Are you hurt?”

Marley shook her head and sucked in a breath. Her bun was crooked under her helmet, her cheeks were flushed, and her shoulders were shaking with silent laughter.

“I. Can’t. Breathe,” she squeaked out, wiping away the tears. “I fell off a donkey.” She covered her mouth with her hand, brown eyes twinkling, and I realized I’d never seen anyone more beautiful in my entire life. I was going to marry this woman. And I was going to mention this exact moment in our vows.

Donkey Ote got tired of not eating snacks and nudged me in the back hard enough to shove me into Marley. It started her laughing all over again. We were a tangle of limbs and donkey leads, and neither one of us could stop laughing long enough to help the other one up. Around us, the game continued in fits and spurts. But I was too busy falling deeper in love to do anything about it.

We sat up and did our best to untie the donkey halters.

“Yo, Cicero!” Floyd called from down the court just as we got untangled.