Social Issues
It felt good to laugh with someone. Actually, it felt better than good. So probably I shouldn't wreck it by asking her if she'd done something in class…something impossible. Definitely I shouldn't. She'd just think I was nuts and that everyone was right about me.
There was a playful combat everywhere. I didn't have time to look around, but there had to be close to a hundred people around me, yelling, laughing and swinging their pillows.
On the edges of the battle other people watched. THere were grown-ups holding their kids by the hand or loaded down with shopping bags, looking stunned or amused or confused. Some laughed and pointed, and others hurried away like they were scared. There had to be almost as many people watching as there were participating.
One of the pillows burst, and a million white feathers shot into the air like a billowing cloud! The crowd—watching and fighting—erupted into gasps and screams and laughter.
Matt was momentarily stunned, but he bounced up quickly, wiping the trickle of blood from the side of his mouth.
One look at the hard-nosed, sneering Grant Jackson standing above him told Matt no apology was forthcoming. "Just remember, rook," Grant hissed quietly. "I'm the starting point guard on this team."
