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“Whatever,” Asa said. “It’s working.”

“They’ve got a whole staff,” Rook pointed out. “And I understand the players have some involvement.”

I rolled my eyes. “Football has somehow become the most important academic department at this school.”

“As it should,” Sadie said. “Algebra has never produced a hot guy in shoulder pads.”

“That’s your standard for educational funding?”

“No,” she told me. “My standards are much lower.”

Ruckus laughed into his water.

A boy beside him was explaining something about who made the calls.

“Clayton calls the offense,” he said.

“And Chief calls Clayton,” Rook added.

I looked up. Chief was still across the courtyard, Megan’s hand now resting on his forearm.

He was looking at us.

I couldn’t tell whether he’d heard his brother or something else had drawn his attention.

Megan followed his glance.

I took a drink of water.

The boys kept talking. Coordinators. Conditioning. Something about the line being better this year.

It was impressive how quickly my imaginary sex life had become less interesting than a football game that hadn’t happened yet.

I certainly preferred it.

Their head coach passed along the walkway with one of his assistants, a stack of folders under his arm. Someone called a greeting. He lifted a hand without stopping.

I folded the paper around the rest of my sandwich.

Chief said something to Megan. She leaned closer to hear him, smiling a little.

I looked away before I could decide what that meant, my gaze dropping to the ground.

“Keep moving,” a man called.

The words caught somewhere inside me.

My eyes snagged on a hole beneath the oak roots.

Small and black and deep enough that I couldn’t see where it ended.

I hadn’t noticed it when we sat down.

A few dry leaves lay across the opening. One moved.

The noise around me thinned.

“Hazel.” Chief’s voice.