"I can't see anything!"
"You're looking everywhere."
He tapped the side of my helmet. "Focus."
His voice stayed calm despite everything happening around us.
"You're thinking about getting hit. Think about hitting."
Another player rushed between two bunkers. Knox fired once. A bright splash of yellow paint exploded across the opponent's shoulder.
"Out!" Someone yelled.
The player lifted his marker and walked off laughing.
I blinked. "...That was kind of cool."
He looked at me. "Your turn."
"My turn?"
He nodded toward the field. "What are you angry at?"
"What?"
"What pissed you off today?"
The answer came too easily.
"Poppy."
"Good."
Another shot flew past us.
"Who else?"
"The girls."
"Good."
"Coach."
"Even better. My mother."
He smirked. He pointed toward the field. "
