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According to a very timid confession in the elevator, Hunter and Willie are boyfriends now. Sebastian can’t hide his pride.

Willie’s happy coasting on a wave through life. His self-confidence shows in the way he ignores anyone who gives him a sideways glare for being a too-blond white kid dating a very cute black guy. Willie doesn’t give a shit. He has a middle finger for anyone demanding that he do it their way. Maybe he can tutor Sebastian on how to be a boss like that?

“He’s ready to see you,” Hunter says. He’s mashing a text on his cell, eyebrows scrunched. He pockets his phone. “Sorry. My parents don’t know everything about Willie yet.”

“Ah.”

“I’m gonna tell them,” Hunter says quickly.

Sebastian holds his hands up, eyebrows raised. “It’s cool.” Actually, it’s a relief that he’s not the only one carrying secrets around. Sebastian stands and packs up his things. “I’ll keep it short and sweet,” he says, patting Hunter’s shoulder.

Hunter sags, but grins. He grabs Sebastian’s elbow before he can get too far. “Listen,” he says, serious. “I have some classes with Emir, and…” Hunter’s stalling. “I know what it’s like to fall for someone, and it’s all confusing.”

Sebastian deflates. Did Willie tell Hunter about his crush on Sebastian? Is this something else? Maybe Hunter’s always waited around for Willie to notice him.

Hunter’s phone buzzes, and Sebastian’s heart beats to its noisiness. He says, “I don’t know what it’s like, Hunter, being in love.”

“You know it’s not easy to figure out, right? It’s not overnight. And it doesn’t happen just because you’ve been with someone for years. It’s just this feeling. I don’t think love knows how it works.” Hunter’s thumb rubs the crook of Sebastian’s elbow.

“What is it, then?”

Hunter’s eyes brighten. “If you’re watchingScooby Dooand think of someone because it’s their favorite cartoon. If you’re allergic to flour but still eat someone’s burnt pancakes. Or if you hate the color green but you wear it because it reminds you of a person’s eyes just before you kiss them—well, it might be love.”

Sebastian smiles helplessly. Is Hunter even a seventeen-year-old?

“And if you ever tell Will about this, I’m gonna use your testicles for keepie-uppies practice,” warns Hunter. He gives Sebastian’s arm a friendly squeeze.

“Got it.”

Sebastian walks away with one thought:Willie and Hunter are perfect for each other.

* * *

“Well, this captain thing suitsyou pretty well,” Zach says after another grueling practice.

Sebastian can barely keep his eyes open. “You think so?”

Zach collapses next to Sebastian in the penalty box and hands him a water before cracking open his own.

Sebastian drags the bottle across his face. The relief that comes from cold condensation mixing with sticky sweat is great.

“You’re certainly making an impression,” says Zach. “Rollins has a man-crush on you.”

Sebastian practically chokes on his first gulp of water. “He does not!” HehopesRollins doesn’t. Rollins is a freshman, and all over the place when it comes time to hold a conversation.

Zach shrugs. “Maybe not.” He sips more water, then says, “Either way, we’re looking good.”

And they are. It’s their final practice before Friday’s big game and, though it’s three weeks into the school year, the team’s acing everything Coach Patrick throws at them. The defense still has a few holes—their wing-backs have opportunities—but nothing Sebastian can’t live with. Their synergy is on point.

“We’re passable,” Sebastian says, dryly. Zach shoves him. Sebastian tips, catches himself with an elbow, and then laughs.

“Check this guy out,” says Zach, nodding toward the sidelines where Willie, on crutches, practiced scowl and all, is reaming out the offense. “He’s recovering nicely.”

Sebastian’s certain that’s mostly because of Hunter. But also it’s because Coach has been encouraging Willie’s involvement from the sidelines. He’s not letting Willie drown in self-pity, not the way he did those first few days. They call itpost-operative depression, and Willie had it bad. He shut down, closed off the world, and wouldn’t look Sebastian in the eye when he visited.

Now he’s back, and all the coaches treat him like he’s part of the staff instead of a player riding the bench. It’s obvious the team respects him. And he’s got this coaching thing down.

“It better not go to his head.”