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Emir says gleefully, “Yeah, again.”

They go for another hour. Emir is unable to sink another goal, but it doesn’t matter. He’s high off the last one. It’s enough to keep a warped smile on Sebastian’s mouth.

“I killed the giant,” Emir keeps saying. Sebastian rolls his eyes every single time.

He teaches Emir how to do keepie-uppies. They laugh and shove each other until they’re too sleepy to keep going.

* * *

Weekends aren’t a free-for-all, buta coach can only shove so many practices andHoosiersreferences down teenagers’ throats before they rebel. The coaches give them mercy, with limitations. First, a curfew, a respectable one, too, because what teenager is ever in bed before midnight on a Saturday? Second, a bed check in the morning to make sure no one’s gone missing or run off to marry a townie in the night. That’s all.

After Saturday afternoon’s required lunch, the madhouse cracks open.

Half of the team piles into the first available car or walks into town. The seniors usually sneak in cheap beer or rum, which doesn’t always end well. Sebastian and a few others keep everyone in check, mostly.

“Do they need chaperones?” Coach Rivera asks.

“Let them go.” Coach Patrick smiles. They’re standing near the picnic area, observing. “It’s not like we have bail money, anyway.” Coach’s anticipating his own weekend routine: beer, pizza, and aRockymovie marathon. All his best speeches come from Sylvester Stallone quotes.

A convertible, top down, speeds off with Jack straddling a headrest. “Que Dios nos ayude,” Rivera says. “God help us.” He’s a devout Catholic and often calls on his religion in moments like this.

Mason is perched on the hood of his car. Guys shout for him to hurry up. Tires spin, creating a fog of dirt. But Mason doesn’t move. His hair is slicked back; he’s wearing a loose tank top and green skinny jeans. Sunglasses slip from his brow to his nose. He winks at Sebastian. “Ready to destroy this place?”

“Um, no,” Sebastian says with a laugh. “I don’t want to know what the inside of juvie looks like, bro.”

“Boring.” Mason cocks his head back. A night in juvenile detention would be a dream come true for Mason. “Will has my back.”

Willie climbs into the back seat. With his pale skin and over-gelled hair, he would look ridiculous in an orange jumpsuit.

Charlie’s old Civic sputters past them. Icona Pop’s “I Love It” shakes the interior. Last year, the seniors made that song their anthem, singing it endlessly in the showers. Those guys were ridiculously comfortable with their sexuality, so no one gave them shit about it.

“Fifty bucks says Zach gets harassed by a cop first,” Hunter says.

Mason whistles his approval. “I’ll take that bet.” He’s king of the jungle on his car-throne; all his loyal subjects salute him on their way to Oakville. He says to Sebastian, “That is, if Bastian doesn’t save their asses first.”

“Hey,” Sebastian protests. “Wasn’t it I who made sure you didn’t get locked up two years ago for possession of greenery?”

“Touché.” Mason nods, looking grateful for the reminder.

“Dude, you should have a cape,” Hunter says. Sebastian beams—he’s been thinking the same thing. “And spandex,” he adds, and then Sebastian loses faith in Hunter’s sanity.

He glances up the road. His purpose for tagging along with the guys is simple: to protect them. The coaches don’t insist on caging the team in the campground because of Sebastian; the unsaid expectation is that Sebastian will make sure everyone does the right thing.

Sebastian wants to ask them, “What seventeen-year-old knows whatthatis?”

He tries not to let it bother him too much, though. He has fun with the guys, so it’s a fair trade. Well, mostly it is. Plus, he needs a break from training and dining hall food.

“Should we invite him?” Willie points to a cabin, where Emir is sitting outside.

Mason hastily replies, “No.”

“Seriously?” Hunter asks.

“Dead serious, dude. He doesn’t like us. If he did, he’d sit with us during meals. Or, you know,talk.”

Sebastian doesn’t understand why Mason loathes Emir, but he’s got his own issues to deal with. He’s kept their training sessions a secret, and Emir never says a word to him in public.

Also, there’s that minor wanting-to-kiss-Emir thing.