Dane’s POVThe team bus rattled down the highway toward the Ridgeline Raptors’ campus, and Dane kept his forehead pressed to the window, watching the tree line blur into a green smear. Beside him, Oscar was three energy drinks deep and narrating a TikTok trend nobody asked about.“Bro, you ever notice Jerome talks to the ball before he kicks it?” Oscar asked, craning his neck toward the back of the bus where Jerome sat alone, headphones in, nodding to something only he could hear.“Everybody’s got their thing,” Dane said. “Long as it goes in the net, he can talk to the grass for all I care.”“I’m just saying. Man’s weird.”“You talk to your cleats before every match. Kissed the left one twice last week.”“That’s different. That’s tradition.” Oscar cracked open a fourth energy drink like the first three hadn’t happened. “Tradition ain’t weird.”Coach Miles stood at the front of the bus once they pulled into the visitors’ lot, one hand braced on the overhead rail, his voice carrying ove

Daniel’s POV Sebastian showed up first, backpack still on, cleats slung over one shoulder from his own practice across town. He leaned next to the foot of Daniel’s bed without thinking of his injuries, like a typical 12-year-old “I heard you scored a goal today, big brother,” Sebastian said with a mocking tone of sarcasm. “Wait until I get out of this bed, you knucklehead. I’m stuck in this bed being useless.” “You’re not useless; you’re just on the bench, as always, bench boy,” Sebastian said it with such conviction that Daniel actually laughed, the first real laugh that hadn’t hurt his ribs in days. “Why’d you even come here today, trying to make me feel some type of way?” “Nah! Just teasing you a little bit. You can’t chase me around the hospital. Haha” “You little wimp. How was school today?” “I know, I love you too.” Sebastian pulled a crumpled

Dane's VS Sympathy's POVThe restaurant Sympathy picked was a small place two blocks off campus, the kind with paper placemats and a laminated menu that hadn't changed in a decade. Dane had expected somewhere fancier, but couldn't be happier nonetheless."You look surprised," Sympathy said, sliding into the booth across from him."I was ready to dress up for somewhere with cloth napkins; I find it funny.""Cloth napkins hide bad food behind good linen. And besides, this is the only place for a thousand kilometers that serves Nigerian cuisine, so it is a "must take you to visit." She flagged down the waiter without looking at the menu, already knowing what she wanted." "Large Jollof, extra plantain and beans, and a side of medium fries for the table. He WILL be having what I am having," she looks at Dane with a demanding wife's expression, "and we're splitting a bottle of ginger beer.""Coke, I'll have a Coke," said Dane, looking at Sympathy with an unbelievable glare.They waited for

Jane's POV The squad moved through the quad in formation without ever calling it a formation: Jane out front, Rebecca a half-step behind her right shoulder, the rest trailing in a loose wedge that somehow still managed to clear a path through the morning crowd. "Tell me again why we're walking instead of taking the golf cart," Rebecca said, sunglasses pushed up into her hair despite the overcast sky. "Because Coach says the golf cart is for 'official athletic business only,' and apparently strutting to the dining hall doesn't count." "It should count. We are athletes. Athletically strutting." Jane laughed, the sound easy and unguarded, and behind them Tally and two of the sophomores kept up a running commentary on every outfit they passed, rating them out of ten with a confidence that belonged to people who had never once worried about being rated back. Up ahead, a cluster of girls from the debate team scattered half a step wider than strictly necessary to let the squad pas

Rebecca & Jane's POVThe lecture finally crawled to its end, the professor fumbling the last slide so badly that half the room had already started packing up before he'd finished the sentence."Did he seriously just read the entire slide out loud, word for word, like we can't read?" Rebecca muttered, zipping her bag shut."He does that every week. I think he forgets we have eyes." Jane slung her bag over one shoulder, falling into step beside Rebecca as they pushed out into the corridor. "Mrs. Hartwell's going to kill us both if we're late for pom approval, by the way.""Mrs. Hartwell can wait five minutes; we've got more pressing business.""Everything with you is more pressing business.""That's because I have excellent priorities." Rebecca's phone buzzed in her hand, and the second she saw the name, she grabbed Jane's sleeve and hauled her into an alcove by the water fountain. "Okay. Okay, look at this.""What? Who's texting you that's got you acting unhinged in a hallway?""Jackso