Holy crap guys I'm so sorry for the delay. I've been doing Camp NaNoWriMo. I'll be trying to update more, maybe 2-3 times a week until the end of August when I have to go back to school and I'll be REALLY busy. Thanks for reading!

Sorry, Uncle Roy, but my favorite Uncle has to be Diggle. He's the guy who takes me to amusement parks and baseball games, and before the accident, he used to take me to laser tag. But there's one thing that he did the other day that really makes him stand out.

So I was just sitting there, doing some math homework that my tutor left me, and kind of doing some research on my dad, too. Also I was texting my best friend, Zack, being one of those rare moments when he's not at soccer practice or doing homework. You could say that I'm pretty good at multitasking. But, anyway, my parents were out for a few hours and I was alone.

That's when Uncle Diggle showed up, knocking on the door. I broke the "never answer the front door" rule when I saw his dark figure through the window.

"Hey Uncle Dig!"

"Hey, Tom! I thought I'd take you out somewhere while your parents are gone."

"But-"

Uncle Dig cut me off. "You can finish your homework when you get home. But we're going to be late!"

"Late? Late for what?"

"You'll see."

"Where's Dahlia? Didn't she want to come too?"

"She's busy," Uncle Dig explained. "She has AP tests coming up next week. Plus, this is more of just a Tommy thing." He must have seen the worried look on my face, because then he said, "Don't worry, I already told your parents." He plopped a hat on my head and rolled me down the driveway and into his car.

"Where are we going exactly?" I tried again.

"To the rec center," he finally explained, vaguely. I waited for him to explain further, but he offered no more insight.

I hadn't been to the rec center since before the accident. It's where I used to play basketball; where they used to call me The Flash. Most of the kids I remember from that class probably moved on to after-school basketball; in a couple years, they will be in high school. And then there's me. I guess we all part in our different directions.

That was probably why I was surprised to see two other people in wheelchairs just like mine when we pulled into the parking lot.

I didn't think much of it at first, but as I loosened my grip on Uncle Dig's car, I became a little more skeptical. Was he taking me to some support group? Why would they have a support group at the rec center?

Instead, he wheeled me towards the gym. That's where the other two kids were headed, anyway. Oh man, this WAS some support group, wasn't it? I looked up at Uncle Dig, with a face that said, I trusted you! And you brought me here?

Instead, when the double, I heard basketballs. Basketballs! I forgot how much I missed that sound, the thick pum, pum, pum of rubber against laminated wood. I could already smell the sweat and the rubber in the foyer, and I almost felt like I could just get out of my wheelchair and walk over for a game.

And then, I saw it. Nine other kids, boys and girls between ten and seventeen, dribbled a few basketballs and passed them to each other- in their wheelchairs! They had thin legs, one leg, stubs, you name it- and they were all practicing basketball. "Hey! Keegan!" Uncle Dig called, and a man turned around in his own wheelchair. He wore a T-shirt that said U.S. Army, and his legs were only stubs.

"Diggle! My man! It's been too long." Uncle Dig laughed and bent down to give Keegan a hug. Then, Keegan "Is this my tenth player?"

"Sure is. Meet Thomas Queen, my nephew."

He grinned and leaned over to shake my hand. "Nice to meet you, Thomas. Hey, Taylor!" Taylor tossed her basketball back, and turned to look. "Grab this kid a Jersey."

"Nice to meet you too," I replied, overly star-struck by seeing kids just like me playing a game I thought impossible.

"Well, let's go ahead and get you out there." Taylor threw me a Jersey, a green one that said "Starling City All Stars." I tried to repress a smile as Uncle Dig gave me a little push onto the gym floor.

"Since we have a new kid, let's once again go over the rules of Wheelchair Basketball. Rule one, the dribble. In normal basketball, you're supposed to keep the ball dribbling, or else it's a travel foul. You may keep the ball dribbling, like traditionally done, and you are also permitted two pushes on your wheels before you must pass or let the ball hit the ground. Understood?"

"Yessir," the other nine said and I echoed.

"For those of you who still have minor use of your legs, you may not use that to your ability. You must be seated at all times, and if someone falls, the game goes on unless someone is injured. Other than that it's very straightforward and similar to traditional basketball. Understood?"

"Yessir."

I have to admit, the game was… messy. The program was pretty new, so kids were fumbling just as much from me. Have you ever tried to make a basket while sitting? Kind of weird to aim. But, I have to admit, it was fun to be doing something for the first time in two years, and to be on the same court that I used to practice on as a kid.

With my face flushed and tired by the end, I wheeled over to get a drink of water. Taylor, who gave me my jersey earlier, followed. "Hey," she said.

"Hey."

"So, you weren't born this way. What happened?" She asked this with no filter, unlike my mom's coworkers who tended to bashfully ask my parents and avoid eye contact with me. It was refreshing.

"Nasty car accident. Spinal damage. You?"

"Nah, I was born this way," she sighed. "Lost a nasty battle with my umbilical cord." I noticed that she only had one stump, but the other was a fully grown leg. "I have to keep my other leg strapped down, so I don't accidentally kick people."

"How did you know I wasn't born this way?" I asked.

"You've obviously played basketball before. Real basketball. I saw the way you aim, like you're used to doing it standing up. I've been here since it opened, since, you know, they don't really offer peg leg basketball. But I come from a family of basketball players and as long as I could still hold one they were happy."

"Oh. Well, nice meeting you, but my Uncle Dig's calling me. My name's Tommy, by the way."