Kia had run onto the street to rescue it. There wasn’t much to rescue. Purple rubber roadkill. “I can’t believe he did that,” I said. We stood there, by the rec center but out of sight of the basketball court. “The guy is a big, mean jerk. I hate bullies, just hate them,” Kia said. “I’m sorry.” “So am I.” “No, I mean I’m sorry because this was my fault.” “How do you figure that?” I asked. “This wouldn’t have happened if I’d just kept my mouth shut and we’d left.” “Kia, you’re my best friend, but you can never keep your mouth shut. You know that.” “I know, but this time I should have. You can’t reason with a bunch of stupid gorillas like that.” “Reasoning is one thing. Insulting them is another. But still, it wasn’t your fault. You weren’t the one who did that to my ball.” “But if I’d just shut up, maybe he wouldn’t have kicked it over the fence. I’m sorry … that’s all.” I shook my head slowly. “I don’t get it.
