“In case you change your mind,” she chirped. But then she dropped her voice to a whisper. “I mean, what’s to worry about? It’s not like you’re really locked in with them.”

Them. She meant the seniors.

But when she said it, only four came to mind.

I side-eyed her, tossed Godzilla into my locker, and pulled out my flute.

• • •

“He’s so cute!” Elle said, but it came out in a little growl like he was a baby and good enough to eat.

I chuckled under my breath. I wasn’t sure which one she was talking about, but I could guess.

Will Grayson jogged down the court, dribbled the ball, and passed it to the center before racing ahead again, catching it, and shooting it straight into the basket.

It slipped through the net, the scoreboard added two points, and the crowd cheered. Michael Crist shot him a five and charged down the court, sliding in front of the other team’s forward and stealing the ball again, passing it to Kai.

“Whoo!!” everyone screamed around me.

I wiped the sweat off my forehead, watching Will lift his shirt up and use it to do the same.

I couldn’t help my eyes falling to his bare stomach, the shorts making his skin look more golden with the ridges and dips tight and visible from here.

Heat covered my face again, and I looked away. Navy blue was absolutely his color.

I tried to space off like I did with the football games, but even when I wasn’t looking at the court, I wanted to look at it. Will Grayson was the best shooter we’ve ever had, better than Crist who was already in talks for an athletic scholarship he didn’t need for college next year.

Why wasn’t Will vying for one? How lucky it must be to have a talent like that to get you in the door, but then again, he didn’t need help opening doors, did he? He was probably a legacy somewhere, his future already planned.

The final buzzer blared, and I checked the scoreboard, making sure of what I already knew. We won. By a lot.

Too bad it wasn’t a real game. Just a little show before the regular season started in November.

Hesitantly, I raised my eyes again, finding him on the court. He talked to Damon Torrance as he wiped the sweat off his face, the wet hair at the back of his neck darker than the hair on top.

Then…he looked over his shoulder and locked eyes with me.

A smile spread across his face, like he knew I’d been watching him the whole damn time, and my face fell, heat rising to my cheeks.

Ugh. I looked away.

Such an ass.

Everyone descended the bleachers, the crowd dispersing, and I looked up at the clock, seeing it was just after seven. The hunger pangs had stopped, but my mouth watered for that granola bar, and now I could eat.

I wasn’t stupid enough to eat food from someone I didn’t know, though. Hopefully Martin left me alone so I could get some food in me before he went to town.

“Scott!” someone called.

I looked up to see Mrs. Baum, the director. I slipped through the crowd of students, walking over to her.

She leaned in. “Change and put your instrument away,” she told me quietly, “and then hurry back into the gym to help clean up the mess before the lock-in.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I was grateful she didn’t shout that across the room. No one needed reminding that I was a work-study kid.

Heading for the locker room, I passed Elle as she talked to two of our band members. “Have fun tonight,” I told her.

She smiled. “Better hurry and make it out in time before they lock the doors.”

And then she wiggled her eyebrows.

“They don’t actually lock the doors,” I retorted. “It’s a fire hazard.”

She stuck her tongue out playfully, and I smiled, spinning around and heading for the locker room.

After changing back into my school clothes, I hung my band uniform back up, stored my instrument in my locker, and started to close the door, stopping when I spotted the granola bar.

I twisted my lips to the side, slipping it off the red ribbon around Godzilla’s foot and checking it for holes like I used to do with Halloween candy.

It looked safe.

My stomach hollowed, and suddenly, I was hungry again.

I stuffed it into the center pocket of my black hoodie. I’ll throw it away in the gym.

Slamming the locker door shut, I started walking but looked down and saw the crumpled ticket on the floor.

Crouching down, I picked it up and looked at it again. Must’ve fallen out of my uniform.

For a moment, I was tempted. I wanted to be that girl. The one with a lock-in and cute boys and music and friends to look forward to.

The longing coursed through me and eventually out, and I stuffed it into my hoodie pocket, as well. I’d throw that away with the granola bar, too. Definitely before Martin saw it.

I hurried back to the gym.

“Okay, one!” Bentley Foster called out. “Two…three!”

An hour later, the gym was clean of soda cups and popcorn boxes, the bleachers stored, the hoops raised, and the floors quickly swept. Two of us each picked up the ends of several mats, and on the count of three, pulled them open, spreading the hardwood basketball court with a cushion for sleeping bags and blankets.

In no time, the floor was covered in blue wrestling mats, and my stomach ached at the smell of burgers and nachos wafting in from the kitchen.

I checked the clock in the wall. After eight.

Looking over, I caught the director’s eyes. “Are we good?” I asked her.

“You walking?”

I nodded.

“Then go on and go,” she told me. “Have a good weekend. Be safe.”

“Thanks.” I backed away as they rolled the coolers full of soda and juice out. “You, too.”

I jogged toward the locker room door to collect my uniform and backpack when I heard her behind me, “Open the doors!” she called to someone.

Students had no doubt gathered outside, having packed and stored their sleeping bags in their cars since this morning, probably leaving after the game to eat before they came right back here for the lock-in.

I pushed through the locker room door as the main entrances swung open, letting in the crowd.

“Scott!” Baum shouted.

I stopped, turning around.

She still stood where I left her, muttering into a walkie talkie and then turning her attention back to me. “Coach Dorn is up in her classroom,” she said. “She wants to see you before you leave.”

I hesitated a moment and then sighed. “Okay,” I called out and spun back around, pushing through the door with a hard shove.

I needed to get out of here. It was dark, I was starving, and they didn’t really lock the doors during a lock-in, right? I mean, I was pretty sure that was illegal, but now I didn’t know.

Skipping the stop at my locker, I exited the locker room, swung open the door, and stepped into the hallway, slipping through the students who were trying to get into the gym. I turned left and jogged up the darkened stairs, their footsteps and chatter fading the farther up I climbed.

Mrs. Dorn was not only the swim coach, but she also taught biology on the third floor. I took biology two years ago, though. What did she want?

Was this about me quitting swimming?

Fear cooled my blood. She knew something didn’t sit right about why I’d quit. I could see it on her face.