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“Didn’t you used to play soccer?” Ava asked, looking at me. “You both like to kick things.”

“Balls. We both like to kick balls,” I joked back.

“Finley,” Jensen said in a low, reprimanding voice.

“Sorry,” I said, even though I thought it was funny.

I used to be a defender on the girls’ soccer team. But it took a lot of time away from what I really loved—podcasts. That’s what I wanted to do with my life, so I had quit soccer after sophomore season to focus on that. Plus, my parents needed me at home more. “Iprobably couldn’t kick a soccer ball twenty feet if my life depended on it these days.”

Jensen let out a sharp laugh. “Anyone can kick a soccer ball twenty feet, babe. That’s not very far. Plus, a soccer ball basically rolls all by itself.” He winked at me.

“Oh, right, I forgot, a football issomuch harder to kick,” I said, heavy with sarcasm.

“It is,” he returned. “The shape alone—”

I held up my hands, stopping him midsentence. “I get it—you’re a stud.”

He squeezed me into a hug. “I try.”

The door opened, and Lisa came out.

“Here I go,” Ava said.

That left me staring at the door.

“How are you feeling?” Jensen asked.

“My stomach hurts.” I hugged his waist, resting my cheek on his chest. Even though the last few years of my life had been preparing me for this moment, something in the back of my mind told me that I still wasn’t good enough.

Jensen held me for several long minutes as I stared at the door, which was red with rust streaks near the hinges.

“Did you know Marcos could juggle?” I said, trying to focus.

“How doyouknow that?” he asked.

“When I was preparing for this pitch over the last several months, I asked a few people in my classes to tell me their hidden talents.” That was why I loved this idea so much. It allowed me to learn about people.

“That’s cool,” he said.

“Maybe you could be one of my student interviews. Like a real interview,” I said, waving my pretend microphone in the air. “Not one of my fake ones. I can ask you about your rise to starting kicker and how it felt to wait in the wings for years.” Assuming I was chosen. We’d find out today at lunch.

“Nobody wants to hear me complain,” he said.

“Everybody likes a good underdog story, Jensen,” I said.

“I guess.”

The door whined as it opened, and I let out a surprised yelp.

“So jumpy,” Jensen said.

“Kiss for luck?”

He pulled me against him and gave me a passionate kiss in front of that whole line of students, leaving me a little lightheaded. Cheeks flushed, I stumbled into the studio.

MY PITCH WENT WELL. REALLYwell. I was warm and my voice was smooth and I even got in a witty aside on the spot.My transitions were on point, and as I stood and smiled at the senior interviewers and our broadcasting teacher, Mr.Whitley, I felt pretty confident.

I stepped outside, where Jensen still stood near the front of the line. I was surprised to see him. First period had started ten minutesago.