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vault myself over her, too. Somehow I ended up on my feet with the ball, while she was still in the dirt. The crowd on the Easton side-
lines--larger than normal, since it was the last game of the year, I assumed--went crazy. "Nice move, Brennan!" someone shouted. I
just kept going. Score. I had to score. Ten yards from the goal. Five. The goalie was watching me like a hawk. Still, I had figured out
her weakness. Too short. No wingspan. If I could kick it into the upper corner above her head, glory would be mine. I could see the
shot in my mind. Could see the ball sailing past her outstretched fingers. And then, out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed Noelle. She
was open on the other side of the field. Somehow she had evaded her defender, who was now sprinting toward her from behind.
Noelle was a senior. This was her final game. And the timing was perfect. I wanted to score, but an assist would be just as good. I
glanced into the upper corner of the net where I would have kicked the ball. The goalie bought it and scooted to her right. Instead, I
sent the ball zooming across to Noelle, who lobbed it easily into the net behind the goalie's back. The girl reacted, but it was far too
late. By the time she dove, the ball was already hitting rope. "Yes!" Noelle cheered
We all sprinted over to pile on her as the whistle blew. Game over. An Easton win. Noelle had gotten to score the winning goal in
the final game of her prep school career. Thanks to me. "Nice pass," she said as I clasped her hand. She gave me a knowing look, and
I knew she realized what I had done for her. "Nice goal," I replied. As we made our way over to the stands with the rest of the team,
slapping backs and smiling, I noticed for the first time that there was something off about the crowd. There were more parents in at-
tendance than usual, there to cheer on their graduating daughters, but the rest of the crowd was made up of guys. Almost exclusively.
On both sides. Not only had the Easton men come out in droves, but the Barton men were also well represented. Normally the stands
were almost empty for our games, and certainly guys had never been a big contingent. What was the deal?
"Nice moves, Brennan!" one of the senior guys shouted as we all made for the water jug. "I like a team player!" another called out
to me. At that, a couple dozen guys applauded and whistled and hooted, all directing their attention at me. Even the Barton guys were
clapping for me. I caught Jason Darlington hooting in my direction with a knowing smile, as if we were sharing some private thought,
though what that would be I had no idea. My skin was already red from exertion, but now an embarrassed blush fueled it further.
"Okay, what's going on?" I asked Sabine as she handed me a cup of water. Sabine had gone out for soccer at the beginning of the year,
but Coach Lisick had decided that her talents were more suited for the position of team assistant. She got into the game every once in a
while--it was an Easton rule that everyone got some playing time--but only when we were winning hugely or losing hugely.
"They're all here for you," she whispered to me. "They've been talking about you throughout the game." "Seriously?" I asked,
glancing around at the dozens of faces, some familiar, some not. "That's what happens when the hottest girl at Easton suddenly hits the
market," Noelle said, resting her forearm on my shoulder and leaning into me as she checked them out. "Salivating boys come from
all over." I'd had no idea it was possible to be so mortified and so flattered all at once. As I looked around, I saw random guys jostling
for a better look at me. Like I was a celebrity or something. Floppy-haired boys, crew-cut boys, tallboys, shortboys, cute boys, hot-
boys, scrawny boys, chubby boys. All of them smiling at me. Checking me out. After a few seconds I had to turn away. It was too
