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“Hawke, let’s play!” Kade calls.

I look up just in time to catch the football he throws, his pissy mood now gone, probably thanks to a couple shots of bourbon.

I flash her one last glance, and she nods, telling me to go. I won’t stake my claim just yet. Let her just be Dylan’s friend for a while.

“Blue thirty-two!” Kade shouts. “Blue thirty-two! Go!”

Kade catches the football, scrambles backward, looks for an opening, and I dart around Dirk, running and checking my tail.

Kade locks eyes with me, my heart pushes up my throat, and the ball flies, through the air and spinning toward me.

I catch it, running past the tree line with cheers going off behind me.

Like riding a bike. I slow, grabbing my shirt out of my back pocket and wipe my face off before I pitch the ball back to Dirk who catches it.

I wish I liked football more. I’m not terrible at it.

And it’s not that I hate it, but I didn’t understand the point. There are more fun things to do in this town.

I look over at Dylan and Aro, sitting in a tree with their cups of Dylan’s special, secret concoction she makes from Madoc’s liquor cabinet.

Kade laughs, holding out his hands. “Haven’t lost your touch.”

“No matter how hard I try,” I mumble.

I walk over, getting into position, calling up to the tree behind me. “You guys should back up,” I tell Aro. “You’re enough trouble. I don’t want you injured.”

She looks down at me, her lips twitching with a smile she doesn’t let out. I glance at her bikini top, picturing it buried in my sheets later. I should’ve brought the damn car. I’ll borrow Dylan’s. I’m so going to take her somewhere secluded and leave marks with my mouth. Jesus Christ.

I groan and squat down, one hand on my knee and the other on the ground.

“Hard eighteen!” Kade bellows down the line. “Hard eighteen! Go! Go! Go!”

I run down the field, Stoli blocks me, I double back, and I catch the ball. It’s only in my arms a second before Stoli and someone else crash into me. I stumble, trying to stay upright, but then I fall into the bystanders at the sideline, the three of us tumbling to the ground.

My shoulder grinds into the grass, burning, but we all laugh.

We get up, Stoli hauling me to my feet, and a girl brushes off my back. I turn, seeing Schuyler smiling and then wiping off the drink that splashed onto her chest.

“Sorry,” I tell her, turning to leave.

But she stops me. “Why? You always looked best when you were on the field.”

I stop and look back, her flirty tone unexpected. I nod and start away again.

“Hawke,” she calls.

I stop.

She comes to my side, Stoli takes the ball and runs back to the game. “I wanted to apologize,” she says.

“It’s fine.”

I check the tree, seeing Dylan and Aro still there, Dylan gabbing away as Aro watches me.

I step away again.

But Schuyler pulls my arm.

I look down at her, dressed in the pale pink crop top I had my hand under the night she snuck into my tent during the senior campout.

Seems like years ago now.

“If a man wants you,” she broaches, keeping her voice low. “He’ll go for it. That’s what I learned, I guess. My pride was hurt. I’m sorry.”

She gives me a sad smile, and she sounds genuine, but something’s off.

“You’re worth waiting forever for,” she tells me.

I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything. She wants to make up.

But I don’t know. I don’t. Touching her is nothing like touching Aro.

Aro is like climbing a Sequoia. You know the fall will kill you, but it’s the only way to get that view.

“If I need help moving some boxes, can I text you next week?” she asks.

I start to walk away. “They’ll have volunteers on-site.”

“I’m not moving into the dorms,” she calls, and I stop. “I have a house with some other girls. My own room.”

And I don’t miss the glint in her eyes, thinking of all the promising nights when we’re both off at college.

Great.

I motion to Kade that I’m going to get a drink and head into the house and down to the basement. I pull a juice out of Madoc’s cooler and drink it down halfway. I really want to add vodka, but I have to drive us home on the motorcycle. May as well let her have some fun.

I tip back the bottle, the chill burning my throat.

“Hey,” I hear Aro’s voice.

I swallow and pull the bottle away from my mouth, seeing that she has her clothes back on already.

“Dylan’s going to give me a ride back to the tower,” she tells me.

I check the time on the clock hanging on the wall. Seven. “Already?” I put the bottle down. “I’ll take you.”