“Two minutes left, guys!” yells Mr. Huntsinger, the assistant coach. “Get your butts on the field now or Coach Dieter will make your lives miserable!”

Shit. With all the talk about homecoming, we’re running late. All the other guys on the team have disappeared and are probably already doing calisthenics. I quickly pull on my gear and run outside with Jet, Trey, and Derek. Coach Dieter is standing on the field, completely focused on his watch.

“You four are late by one minute and eleven seconds,” he says, then glares at us. “I expect a lot more from you seniors. Go run four laps, stopping at the water table after each one to rehydrate.”

Damn. I drop my helmet and start running. The four of us are sweating our asses off as the sun beats down on us.

To be honest, three of us are dripping with sweat. Trey isn’t breaking a sweat or even breathing hard.

Trey is like a machine, always ready to run, to challenge every one of us to prove that he’s faster. It’s like a game to him—he knows he’ll always win. One day I’ll beat him though. It’s an ego thing.

“Remind me never to be late again,” Jet says. “Dieter wasn’t kidding. My balls are so sweaty they’re stickin’ to my jockstrap.”

“I have an idea,” Derek pipes in.

“About our sweaty balls?” Jet asks, grabbing himself and shifting his package without a care that a bunch of girls are watching from the bleachers.

“No. Well, maybe,” Derek says. “It’s about homecoming. We should all stay at my grandmother’s place for the after-party.”

Jet holds his hands up. “Your grandmother is a complete hardass, Derek. Hell, she’d probably scare the crap out of Coach Dieter if he met her.”

“You guys are forgetting one thing,” Trey says, the only one of us not winded and tired in this crazy heat. He’s a freak of nature.

We all look at him as Dieter blows the whistle for us to stop.

My best friend pats me on the back, his hand connecting with a thump on my pads. “We need to find a date for Vic, because I’m not going if he’s not going.”

I don’t answer.

The only girl I want is the only girl I can’t have. His girl.

It’s a good thing he’s clueless about who I have a crush on.

The rest of practice is one big blur. On the way home, Trey talks about colleges and applications. I haven’t even thought about applying.

Trey pulls up my driveway. When I step out of the car, a sign saying FREMONT FOOTBALL #56 VICTOR SALAZAR is on my front lawn and the door to my house has inspirational and corny quotes written on it, like YOU CAN DO IT! and WE HEART VIC! and BEST LINEBACKER IN ILLINOIS!

Gotta love the cheerleaders, who decorate our lockers at school and the doors of our houses. Every cheerleader writes a personal note and tapes it on our front doors. My eyes scan the one from Monika.

To my friend Vic,

Please help Trey win his first game so he can get into Harvard.

No pressure lol.

Your friend, Monika

Damn. Ashtyn’s right. I need to move on.

The problem is, I don’t know how.

Chapter Six

MONIKA

The best part about having a boyfriend who your parents like is that they don’t mind when he comes over. The worst part about having a boyfriend who your parents like is that they treat him like he’s their BFF.

Two times since Trey came over after practice, my dad interrupted us. The first time, he came in the kitchen when I was making popcorn before we were going to watch a movie. He asked Trey about how football practice was going and if he thought Fremont had a shot at winning the state championship.

The second time, Dad came up to us right when we were about to turn on the movie. He asked Trey his opinion about whether or not he should buy an electric screwdriver with torque or not. I don’t even know what torque is, so I sat there and played a game on my phone until they were done talking.

Trey takes my hand in his as we cuddle on the couch. “Love ya.”

I look up at his beautiful dark, chiseled face, then sink into the warmth of his chest. “I love you too.”

I want to bring up that I’ve felt distant from him. Even now, as he has his arm around me, I feel like there’s a wall between us.

He used to be the perfect guy. Now it seems like whenever he gets a chance to leave me, he’s gone without a backward glance.

My dad suddenly appears in the room once again. “Trey, can I bother you for a few minutes?” he asks. “I’m trying to replace a sprinkler head, and I’m having a helluva time.”