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“Fall in line,” the coach said.

Ricky turned his head, a spike of adrenaline waking him right up when he saw who it was. Diego Gomez was wearing the same dopey Pride High shirt and shorts that were issued to them all for this class. The school colors were gold and umber, which in clothing terms translated to a yellow shirt and brown shorts. Diego slunk to the front row, positioning himself at the corner. He didn’t make eye contact with anyone.

“Come on people,” the coach said, demonstrating another stretch. “Focus on me.”

Ricky kept watching Diego and noticed the way his shoulders were slumped.

“He must have gotten kicked off the football team,” whispered one of the guys behind Ricky.

“I bet it was his grades,” said another guy. “He’s dumb as a rock. I heard he flunked last year.”

Ricky kept watching him as they went through the rest of the routine. Normally he hated the clingy shirts and skimpy shorts, but they sure didn’t look bad on Diego. Just about every curve and contour was revealed. Ricky hadn’t seen much of the front yet and would do his best not to look because he didn’t want to mess up their unspoken truce. Diego hadn’t been picking on him as much lately, but the weather could very easily change. Especially if he noticed Ricky staring at his package.

After they’d finished their warm up, the coach announced that they would be playing soccer. This came as welcome news, since Ricky was a fairly competent forward. The coach selected two captains and asked them to pick their team, person by person, which was always a humiliating experience. Diego was the fifth to get chosen. Ricky was way down at the bottom of the list. Notthe very last, but close enough. At least he wouldn’t be on the same team as Diego.

He was even more relieved when they went outside and the other team was designated as skins. He would be allowed to keep his shirt on. Most of the other team only lifted the front of the shirts over their heads, letting it wrap around the back of their necks. Diego took his off completely and tossed it aside, which made it look like he was wearing nothing but boxers and a pair of tennis shoes. His pecs were just as beefy as the rest of him, and while he didn’t have defined abs, the dark trail of hair on his stomach was alluring as it led down and disappeared.

Ricky forced himself to look away. His shorts were already tight enough. He didn’t want to humiliate himself in front of the whole class. Although he’d squirrel away the details for later, when he was home by himself.

As the game began, Ricky noticed a trend. Wherever Diego went, the other players would practically dive out of his way. Nobody wanted to take him on, which meant the skins team scored a number of easy goals.

“Work on your defense,” the coach said, clapping his hands to get their attention. “Andyour offense. Stop letting them win!”

Ricky’s team exchanged wary glances. His pulse began to race, because he knew he was going to try. What better way to prove his worth? After another kickoff, Ricky threw himself into the mix and gained control of the ball. He was moving down the field when the seas seemed to part, giving him a clear path. Not because anyone made room for him. No, they were getting out of the way of Diego, whose muscled arms were pumping as he rushed toward Ricky like a freight train. So what? His opponent might be big and strong, but Ricky was small and fast. He kept dribbling while running straight for Diego. As soon as he was close enough to see the crazed intensity of those copper eyes, he feinted to the left, and then to the right, before cutting around Diego, who was too bulky to change directions so quickly. Ricky made it to the opposite end of the field, kicking so hard that he slid on the grass. The ball bounced against the goalpost, but luckily it rolled back close enough that he was able to knock it in with the tip of his shoe.

He heard cheering and was pulled to his feet. Ricky tensed, expecting to get pummeled by Diego, but it was only his fellowteam members. They tousled his hair and patted him on the back. Ricky barely paid any attention to them. His survival instinct made him seek out Diego, who watched him with a scowl, but there was reassessment there as well. For the rest of the period, Ricky’s teammates were braver when facing Diego. They managed to score a few more goals, Ricky personally responsible for another of them, although they still lost the game.

They were in the locker room afterwards when he realized another consequence of Diego joining this class. They both had English third period, which meant they’d likely be walking the same route to get there. And even worse, Diego’s gym locker was just behind his, on the opposite side of the row separated only by a low bench. Ricky didn’t like the idea of turning his back to him, even for a second. Luck was on his side. He heard the slam of a locker, and when he glanced over his shoulder, he saw Diego disappearing into the showers. Most guys didn’t use them. Not for PE. This would give him a head start. He dressed quickly before sprinting to his English class.

Diego showed up a couple minutes after the bell rang, grunting in response to the teacher’s inquiry. When he sat down at his desk, the scent of soap wafted over. Ricky breathed in, deciding it would be a useful detail. But he didn’t look. Not during the entire class. Only after the bell rang, when he heard Diego say, “Good game.”

“Thanks,” Ricky managed to squeak out before he hurried for the door.

If there was going to be retribution, this was when it would come. He glanced over his shoulder when halfway to the cafeteria. Diego wasn’t far behind, although he kept his distance, just as he’d done the week before. Each time Ricky checked, those cinnamon eyes were on him and remained there, all the way up to the moment Diego turned the corner and went his own way.

— — —

Mindy watched Whitney twirl around an imaginary town square while trading lines with the other costumed characters on stage. This was the third run of the scene today, and the second attempt that didn’t have any issues. “I think we’re finally getting there,” she said. “Although I’m going to shorten Whitney’s dress. I keep waiting for her to trip.”

“She looks great though,” Cameron said from the auditoriumseat next to her. “I know I voted for a wig, but I’m digging our blond Belle. She’s stunning.”

Mindy resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Why did blonds get all the attention?

On the other side of her, Keisha nudged Mindy. Then she nodded at Cameron meaningfully and murmured “good luck” before standing and walking away. Even the suggestion that she shouldattempt to take things further with him was enough to make her palms feel sweaty. If only Keisha had managed to get a definitive answer out of Cameron. All she had reported was that he thought Mindy was pretty and nice. So were rainbows and sunsets but nobody wanted to date them.

Their night out at the haunted houses hadn’t revealed much either. She’d done her share of clutching at Cameron when frightened, and he had seemed okay with that. But then, she and Ricky had hugged each other desperately at one point when they heard a chainsaw start up ahead, and they didn’t have any romantic potential.

Mindy noticed Cameron’s knee bouncing up and down. And that he kept checking his watch.

“Any plans after this?” she asked.

“Anthony invited me over for dinner. It’s pizza night at their house.”

“Worried there won’t be any left?”

“Huh?” He glanced over at her. “Oh! Yeah, that would be bad.”

“I wonder where they order from,” Mindy said, searching desperately for a way to shift the conversation toward dating. “I prefer Archie’s myself.” Hint, hint!