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It’s so quick, their mouths just smack.

Sebastian should write it off as a mistake; this isn’t a real kiss,where you’re lightheaded afterward or shoving your tongue down a hot guy’s mouth to taste the flavor of his gum.

This is nothing at all.

Sebastian barely keeps himself from falling on his ass. “Shit.” He meant to keep that in his mouth, the same mouth that’s currently buzzing with electricity.

Emir is pale, blinking.Perfect. I accidentally, I repeat, accidentally, just kissed him and he’s ready to puke.He didn’twant it, not the way Sebastian did, according to his lower half.

“Okay.” Emir pushes hair off his forehead and looks around.

“Okay,” Sebastian repeats in a wobbly voice.

If this is where Emir rejects him, Sebastian is completely cool with it. It was a mistake: no foul, no harm. He can live this down. He hopes.

“So,” Emir whispers. He locates the ball and kicks it to Sebastian. “Good practice.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian says, absently catching the ball with his foot.

“But the whole sweeper thing,” Emir is waving a hand around; his face is scrunched, “I don’t know about that. Just—let’s focus on other stuff.” He shakes his head, then jogs away before Sebastian can swallow the massive lump clogging his throat.

Should he apologize for kissing Emir? Ask him to keep practicing? Sebastian doesn’t know. He doesn’t knowanything, and that’s not the worst part. He grits his teeth and stares at the sun. He’s hoping for clarity, but the light just makes him see spots. Eventually, he dribbles the ball back to the Hot Box. He leans against it, face pinched. It’s hot, but Sebastian’s brain sticks on how much hotter it was with his fingers holding the back of Emir’s neck when they kissed.

* * *

By dinner, Sebastian is restlessand not very hungry. He shows up in the dining hall, though. If he doesn’t, Willie or one of the guys will hound him until he does. Over the years, he’s become the “glue” for the team and, usually, that’s an amazing feeling. This evening, he can’t get out of his own head enough to savor his coolness.

“Prom, yay or nay?” Jack, who has beady dirt-brown eyes, asks Gio while pointing a plastic knife at him. Dinner is dry chicken, again, and all Sebastian’s managed to do is hack it to shreds as if he’s Leatherface.

Gio shrugs, munching on carrots. “If I can find the right girl—”

“None of them want you.” Jack wheezes at his own joke.

Gio flips him off, then says, “I could takeyour mom. She’s pretty hot.”

“Christ, dude,” Kyle chokes, milk spluttering from his mouth. “The disrespect, man.”

Gio chugs his Coke. Sebastian’s always surprised at how Gio owns his smugness without being an asshole. He reminds Sebastian of a super-young Benicio del Toro.

Sebastian leans back in his chair, fascinated by how his teammates carry their own senses of self-awareness, as if life is so easy despite their setbacks. They’ve all had shit shoveled on their dreams. Some of them won’t have enough money to attend community college when they graduate. But none of it weighs them down. They carry on, cracking jokes and living each day as if they’re high in the clouds. Sebastian has no clue how to earn, let alone keep such impenetrable confidence in his future. Instead, a giant pile of choices waits at his feet.

“Okay,” Mason says, stealing the cup of Jello from Sebastian’s tray and Willie’s too. He shoves a spoonful in his mouth. “Who wants to explain to me how junior made it to our table again?”

Grey’s shoulders drop at Mason’s callous reference. “I invited myself.”

“You’ve got balls,” Mason says, making a face. “Okay, maybe you don’t, but you know what I mean.”

“Audacity,” Grey clarifies. “And yes, I do. Why, are you attracted to bold women?” She bats her eyelashes.

“One,” Mason holds up a finger, “you’re a girl, not a woman. And two,” a second finger pops up, “I don’t understand you enough to be attracted to you.”

“So, there’s hope?”

Willie chokes on a laugh and thumps his chest repeatedly. This is all his fault.

Mason glowers at him and then cocks his head at Grey. His glare is intense, as if he’s attempting to shoot lasers and evaporate her. “You think you’re cute, don’t you?”

Grey’s mouth does this little quirk that’s more shy than confident. “Sometimes,” she says, barely lifting her shoulders.