“And Ian’s Patriots take the ball on their own thirty-yard line,” Doug intoned, lowering his voice to a near-perfect impression of Al Michaels. “Can Ian, the upstart sixth grader, who until recently was still sucking his fruit punch from a sippy cup, beat last year’s champion and complete spazmo—all filler, no killer Miller?”

  Megan smirked. Doug was actually kind of funny. Who knew?

  “And Brady drops back to pass. . . . He’s lookin’. . . . He’s lookin’. . . .”

  Another cheer and Megan heard a couple of high fives. “I don’t believe it!” Doug shouted. “Ian’s got a first down on the fifty-yard line with a bee-yoo-tee-ful pass to the wide out. He’s as cool as the other side a’ the pillow. No one saw that comin’, especially not Miller’s lame-ass defense. If you can even call it that. Ow!”

  Apparently Miller had punched Doug. Well deserved. Megan smiled. Part of her wanted to go downstairs and get in on the action, but she didn’t want to intrude. Feeling tired and suddenly lonely, Megan started upstairs, the sounds of raucous laughter rising up behind her.

  * * *

  “Regina bought you makeup?” Megan’s mother asked over the phone.

  “I know, I know. I told her not to, but she insisted,” Megan replied, glancing at the half-dozen compacts and tubes on her desk that she was never going to use. Megan just did not consider herself to be a makeup kind of girl. The one time she had let Tracy give her a “light makeover,” she had been horrified by the hooker in the mirror and immediately raced for the sink.

  “Just don’t wear too much of that stuff on your face,” her mother said. “You’re too pretty for that.”

  “Thanks,” Megan said with a smile. She was proud of her green eyes and her thick, strawberry blond hair, but with her small snub nose, her freckles, and her lack of cheekbones, she had never actually felt “too pretty” for anything.

  “Well, I’m sure it’s nice for Regina, having another woman around,” her mother said. “But I told her she didn’t need to buy you anything.”

  Megan’s eyes fell on the Gap and Abercrombie bags on her floor and she cringed. “We didn’t buy that much. And I think she really had fun. I mean, we had fun,” she added. It had been a bit of a marathon spree for Megan—two full hours at the mall playing model—but the Cinnabon had made it all worthwhile.

  “Well, good. I’m glad, then,” her mother said.

  Megan smiled. Talking to her mother wasn’t as painful as she had expected it would be. There was a tightness in her chest when she first heard her mom’s voice, but she wasn’t aching to crawl through the phone line or anything. She took this as a good sign. Maybe she was already getting used to being on her own.

  Down the hall a door slammed and Megan flinched. Caleb and Ian were shouting at each other somewhere downstairs. In the attic room over Megan’s head, Sean turned on a wailing electric guitar track and flopped down on his bed, the springs squeaking as he settled in.

  “Megan?”

  “Sorry, Mom. What?” Megan asked.

  “Your father wants to know if there’s anyone on your soccer team who can keep up with you.”

  Megan blushed pleasantly. At the same time, she felt a rush of desperate heat, like she would give anything to see her father’s face right then. Okay, so maybe this separation wasn’t that easy.

  “One girl’s really good,” she said. “The rest of them are okay.”

  There was a quick knock on Megan’s door as her mother related this news to her dad.

  “Come in,” Megan said.

  It was Evan. He leaned against the door frame, his hands in his pockets. He was wearing distressed khakis, a white T-shirt, and a perfectly broken-in brown suede car coat.

  “Hey,” he said.

  Holy Abercrombie catalog, Megan thought.

  “What? Megan? Did I lose you?”

  “Mom, I kinda have to go,” Megan said.

  “Okay, sweetie,” her mother replied. “We’ll talk to you soon.”

  “Okay, Mom. Say ’bye to Dad for me!” she said, swinging her legs around to place her feet on the floor.

  “’Bye! Love ya!”

  “You too!” Megan replied, turning ten shades of purple. She hung up the cordless phone and tossed it on her bed.

  “Hi,” she said, attempting a glance at Evan.

  “Me and a few of the guys are going out to Logan to watch the planes take off,” he said. “Wanna come?”

  “Oh . . . uh . . .”

  Megan’s stomach clenched with nervousness and she looked at her watch, stalling. He was probably only asking her because his parents had told him to be nice to her or something. Besides, she had school tomorrow. And what if the McGowans got mad at her for going out so late on a school night? As her parents had pointed out about a zillion times, they were doing Megan a huge favor. She didn’t want to take advantage of them. It would be so much easier just to plead new-school exhaustion and say she had to go to bed.

  “It’s kind of late,” she said, hating the childish sound of her voice.

  “That’s kind of the point,” he replied. “Come on. It’s so cool. And I really want you to meet my friends. You’ll love them.”

  Megan forced herself to look at his face. His perfect face. And he actually looked hopeful. He wasn’t messing with her. He really did want her there.

  “Come on. I know you’ve got a bad girl in there somewhere,” Evan said, flashing his heart-catching smile.

  You just could not be more wrong, Megan thought. But she couldn’t stop herself from grinning at his words. It was time for her to stop being such a wuss and start taking chances. An image of Ben Palmer popped into her head—the boy she had had a crush on for three full years but never said a coherent word to.

  “Okay.” She stood up and grabbed her wallet from her dresser. Her pulse was racing so loudly in her ears she could barely hear herself say, “I’m in.”

  * * *

  Megan gripped the side of her seat as Evan’s car bumped along a dirt road, winding its way through the trees toward the top of a small hill. It wasn’t the rough ride or the pitch blackness around her that was making her tense, but the past twenty minutes of stalled conversation—of Evan asking her questions and her coming out with lame non-answers. She had never heard herself say “I don’t know” so many times in her life—a phrase she kept repeating just because it was safer than trying to find something cool to say. Megan could not wait to get out of the car.

  “So . . . do you miss Texas?” Evan asked, gamely trying to break the silence.

  “Kinda,” Megan replied.

  “Leave anyone behind? Best friends . . . boyfriends . . . ?” Evan asked.

  Megan laughed nervously. “No. Well . . . yeah. I mean—”

  “Best friend or boyfriend?”

  “Best friend. Tracy,” Megan said. “No boyfriends.”

  “Oh. Good.”

  Megan checked out his profile. He was smiling in a satisfied way. Please, Megan. He has Hailey. Beautiful, makeup artist, popular, athletic Hailey, she told herself. Get a grip.

  Finally they came to a clearing and Megan could see a few cars already parked up ahead. The headlights flashed, illuminating curious faces as Evan parked his Saab. A couple of the guys squinted, then smiled when they saw who was behind the wheel. Hailey jogged away from the crowd, blond hair fanning behind her, and was at Evan’s door before he even turned off the engine.

  “Hey, baby,” she said, grabbing his face through the open window and planting a quick kiss on his lips.

  Megan wanted to smack herself. When Evan had mentioned his friends, she had pictured a bunch of guys. It had never occurred to her that Hailey would be here.

  Hailey looked past Evan at Megan. “Oh. Hey,” she said flatly.

  “Hi,” Megan replied. “How’s it going?”

  “Fine,” Hailey said. “You?”

  “Fine,” Megan replied.

  Okay, deep breath, Megan told herself as the dozen or so kids milling around e
yed her openly. Megan recognized Tina and another girl from the squad—a pretty, tall Middle Eastern girl with dark curly hair. Evan and Hailey walked around to Megan’s side of the car, arms around each other.

  “Everyone! This is Megan,” Evan called out. “Megan, this is everyone.”

  “Hi, Megan!” they all trilled, like a class full of kindergarteners.

  Megan laughed and lifted her hand. “Hi.”

  “I’ll go get us a couple of beers,” Evan said to Hailey. “You want?” he asked Megan.

  “No thanks.”

  “Be right back,” Evan said. Then he jogged off toward his friends, leaving Megan and Hailey standing together. Megan felt like she could breathe again. She looked at Hailey out of the corner of her eye.

  Maybe Hailey was just threatened this afternoon. After all, you are a great soccer player and you are a girl who’s living with her boyfriend. But you have a lot in common with her. Maybe there’s still a chance for you to get along.

  “So, Hailey, what was the team’s record last year?” she asked.

  “We won more than we lost,” Hailey said, pushing her hands into the front pockets of her tight jeans. “Why? Worried the team’s not good enough for you?”

  Megan stared at her. “No. I’m just making conversation.”

  “Well, we made it to counties, but we didn’t win the final,” Hailey said. “Of course, Coach thinks that with you around, it’ll happen this year.”

  “Thanks,” Megan said.

  “I said, ‘Coach thinks.’”

  At that moment, a plane took off from the runway and skimmed just above their heads, its wheels hanging so low Megan thought it might hit one of the trees behind them. The roar was deafening. Megan could see that Evan and his friends were cheering at the top of their lungs, fists and beer cans raised to the air, but she couldn’t hear them. Megan wanted to scream too—at Hailey. In her mind she heard Tracy telling her to stick up for herself. If she could stand up to her parents, she could certainly stand up to this girl. But just the thought made her palms sweat and her heart pound.

  I have to do something, though, Megan thought, trying to pep-talk herself. She’s going to walk all over me if I don’t do something.

  As soon as the engine noise had faded, Megan turned to Hailey again.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “What?”

  “Did I do something? I mean, to offend you?” Megan asked. “All I’m trying to do is settle in at a new school, maybe make some friends, play a little soccer. But you seem to really not like me.”

  Megan held her breath, unable to believe that her thoughts had actually come out in a semi-coherent way. For a split second, Hailey’s face softened and Megan realized that the girl was really pretty when she didn’t have her scowl on. She even looked like she was going to say something semi-human. Then Evan broke away from the crowd with his beers and Hailey saw him coming. She glanced at Evan, then at Megan, and reached out her arm to him.

  “Come on, baby,” she said, latching onto his side. “Let’s go find someplace a little more private.”

  “Cool,” Evan said, handing Megan one of the beers. “Go introduce yourself around, Kicks. The guys are dying to meet you,” he added with a wink.

  “Oh . . . kay.”

  She watched helplessly as Hailey led Evan away and the group behind her laughed loudly at some unheard joke. Hailey glanced over her shoulder, shooting Megan a triumphant look before she and Evan ducked into the trees.

  * * *

  “Okay, so what do we got so far? In Boston we got trees, we got water, we got the Red Sox, we got the aquarium, and we got the . . . We got the . . .”

  Megan looked at Darnell Wilcox. He had ticked off his list on his fingers and was now staring down at his pinky as if it were going to give him the answer. In the other hand he clutched the neck of a half-empty bottle of Budweiser—from what Megan could tell, his fifth or sixth. Darnell was a handsome guy who, according to his varsity jacket, was captain of the football team. At the beginning of the night, he had shown himself to be a smart, friendly, funny guy. Now that he was officially drunk, he was still friendly and funny, but the smart thing was out the window.

  “History,” Megan said. “You forgot history.”

  “Right!” Darnell said, his big brown eyes lighting up as he looked at her. “Now, what kinda history you got in Texas?”

  Megan leaned back on the hood of Darnell’s old-school Corvette and sighed. “Oh, I don’t know, we’ve got Coronado, the Alamo. . . . We declared independence once,” she said, glancing at him.

  Darnell stared at her for a second, his eyes scrunched in confused surprise, as if her sound track had switched over to SAP. “Yeah, well, we got the Boston Tea Party, the Boston Massacre, the Boston . . . the Boston . . .”

  “Red Sox!” someone shouted, prompting a round of cheers in the darkness.

  “Yes! Thank you!” Darnell said, raising his bottle. “The Boston Red Sox . . .”

  “You mentioned them already,” Megan said with a yawn.

  “Oh, sorry,” Darnell said slurrily. “Am I boring you?”

  “No.” Megan shook her head. He was actually quite entertaining. It was just that it was past midnight and the night was getting old.

  “Yeah . . . well, I’m boring myself,” Darnell said, lying back next to her.

  Together they stared up at the sky as yet another plane whooshed by. Everyone else cheered, but Megan squeezed her eyes closed and covered her ears against the noise.

  “Hey. You guys having fun?”

  Megan opened her eyes to find Evan hovering over her. Sweet relief! She hadn’t seen him since Hailey had dragged him off two hours ago. Now they could finally get out of here.

  “You ready to go?” Megan asked, sliding down off the hood of the car. She glanced at Hailey, noticed a throbbing hickey right near her collarbone, and glanced away. Her heart burned with jealousy. She didn’t even want to imagine where else Evan’s lips had been. But now, of course, she couldn’t help it.

  “Already?” Hailey asked, reaching for Evan’s hand with both of hers. “I’ve barely even talked to anybody.”

  Yeah? And whose fault is that? Megan thought.

  Evan shot Megan a pleading look and Megan’s spirits dropped. Suddenly she felt even more exhausted than she had a second ago.

  “You know what? That’s fine,” Megan said, grabbing Darnell’s hand and pulling him into a seated position. His eyes rolled forward and he attempted to focus. “I’ll just have Darnell here drive me home. You’re okay to drive, right, Darnell?” she asked, slapping him on the back so hard he slid off the car.

  He stumbled a second when his feet hit the ground, but he fished his keys out of the pocket of his varsity jacket. “Toad-al-ly,” he said. “Jus . . . tell me where ya live.”

  He aimed the keys for the lock in the door and hit the window.

  Megan raised her eyebrows at Evan. Evan looked back, amused and clearly somewhat impressed. Megan could barely believe it herself. She was actually standing up to him. Who would have thought it was possible?

  They both knew she wasn’t stupid enough to get into the car with Darnell. It was a bluff. The question was, what would Evan do?

  He turned to Hailey. “Maybe we should go.”

  Megan’s heart fluttered like a victory flag in the wind.

  Hailey’s face fell, but she recovered quickly. “Fine. I’ll go get my bag. You can drop me off.”

  “Actually . . . do you think you could maybe drive Darnell home?” Evan asked, pressing his lips together and raising his eyebrows adorably.

  They all looked over at Darnell’s stooped figure as he used two hands to guide his key toward the lock. He missed again.

  “Evan—”

  “Hails, you live two houses down from him,” Evan said. “And somebody’s gotta do it.”

  Hailey looked over her shoulder at the others as another plane took off and drowned out the world. “Okay, you’re right,?
?? she said with a sigh. She walked over to Darnell and slung her arm around his broad back. “Wrong side of the car, D.”

  “Huh?” Darnell said. “But I’m driving Megan home.”

  “Change of plans. You’ve got me now,” Hailey said. “Come on.”

  Megan watched as Hailey gently led Darnell around to the passenger seat. Evan took the keys and opened the door. Together they lowered Darnell’s linebacker frame into the car. Then Hailey fished around under the seat and adjusted it so that Darnell’s knees weren’t pressed into the dashboard. Unreal. Just when Megan thought the girl was completely evil, she went and acted like a human.

  “Okay, see you later,” Hailey said, giving Evan a kiss before she got behind the wheel.

  “Drive safe,” Evan replied, coaxing a smile out of his girlfriend.

  “Bye, Hailey,” Megan said as Hailey started the car.

  Without another word, Hailey peeled out, leaving Megan and Evan in the dust.

  “Nice girl,” Megan said under her breath.

  Evan looked at her sideways and turned toward his car. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

  * * *

  “So, are your parents going to kill us?” Megan asked, checking her watch. One-fifteen a.m. “’Cuz my parents would definitely kill us.”

  “Don’t worry. It’s under control,” Evan said.

  He turned off the headlights as he turned onto the McGowans’ quiet street. Parking his car at the very end of the driveway, he cut the engine. The sound of a hundred chirping crickets filled the air. The only light in the house came from the lamp in the front living room window.

  “Hey,” Evan whispered. “Did you have fun tonight?”

  Megan turned to look at him, her heart responding with a heavy thump. He was leaning across the center console. Leaning so close she could see the stubble coming in on his jawline.

  “Your friends are nice.”

  “I knew you would like them,” he whispered, looking into her eyes so intently, she couldn’t look away. “Actually I knew they would like you.”

  Megan swallowed with difficulty. “You . . . you did?”