"But he was our friend." Courtney kicked the Hacky back to Bernice. "What if it were me?"
"You'd be an idiot." Bernice caught the pool-ball-sized bag on the flat of her toes, licking her lips. She flipped it up, smacking a 'jester' from behind her knee with the opposite foot.
Courtney caught it above her boobs, a chest-stall, before rolling the sack down for another volley. "And if it was Sandy?"
The beanbag clipped Bernice's thigh, spinning off to the squat brick wall, landing with a clap. She growled and turned, biting her lip when Courtney couldn't see. It wasn't as if she didn't care, but there was simply nothing she could do about it now. Dead was dead.
"Sandy's not going anywhere," she said, pap-pap-pap, passing it back.
Courtney took in on her knee, bouncing it up, letting it fall to another foot-stall, then heaving it high in the air, sight steady on its drop. "After all she's went though, we need to keep an eye on her."
The blond flicked it back to the brunette, ignoring the dozens of eyes on them both. Bernice shut her eyes and rebounded it, head to cloth. Courtney digged low with a stretch, enough mustard in her toes to tap it back.
"If you treat her weak, she'll be weak." Bernice supported the Hacky on a raised knee, locking gazes with Courtney. "We'll be there for her—"
"Like you were for Justin?"
"Yeah, just like that." She dropped her knee, punting it forward. It smacked Courtney in the stomach before the girl reared back and did the same.
The Hacky missed Bernice's face by inches. She felt its wind as it sailed into the school's courtyard.
"You blaming me or what?" Bernice said. A dozen eyes still stared.
"N-No. But this isn't right."
"They part where my ex kills himself, or the part where you were in love with him?"
"Maybe if I'd said something." Courtney focused behind her, a bit on the Hacky, more into the past.
"Give it a week. You'll feel better."