Up close, Gilly was tall and thin with a big head, like a balloon on a string. She had large blue eyes and long blond hair that whipped around in the wind like it was its own creature. Her arms were all tanned except for a set of white stripes on her wrists. She looked like someone who spent a lot of time in the sun.

She scooped her hair up into one hand. “Hey. . .Uh. Anne!”

Admittedly I was kind of shocked she knew my name. Also Gilly has kind of a nice voice. I couldn’t think who it reminded me of.

“Yeah?”

“So.” Gilly looked around. “Were you going to sign up for auditions? For the play? Earlier?”

“Oh.” I felt my face flush. “I mean, I don’t know. Probably not.”

“I was thinking”—Gilly’s gaze wandered down the field—“it’s probably something you know about? You’ve lived in bigger cities and you would have something to bring to a Greenville production, right? I mean, Mr. Davidson is great, but it could be interesting to have your. . .perspective.”

I turned to see if Sarah or Tanner was anywhere near, feeling suddenly exposed. Like I was standing on top of a hill.

“My perspective?”

Because, like, what else did I want to hear from someone like right at that moment? (Who doesn’t want someone to care about their perspective?)

“Yeah.” A small smile crept over Gilly’s face, revealing what looked like a chipped front tooth. She covered her mouth with her hand.

Okay, like, hello, obviously this was exactly what I wanted to hear. And maybe it was nice to hear it from Gilly, who had a nice smile, but like, maybe they knew I would think it was nice? Or maybe Gilly was just being nice? I mean this was my first time talking to her. Maybe she was like the mediator, and this was her, like, reaching out. Like, “Hey, Anne just wore this really ugly plain shirt for us for a week, let’s give her a break.”

Right? That was possible? Right?

Or was it so possible that it was clearly not possible?

“Okay, well, I’ll think about it.”

“Great.” She hopped forward. “I mean, I think you should sign up. If that means anything.”

Her hair seemed to leap into the air as she ran off into the school.

I found Berry in the locker room looking sweaty and triumphant. “Hey!”

“HEY,” I cheered, offering a high five, which she accepted. “You had a shutdown!”

“Shutout,” Berry clarified. “Yes I did.”

“Maybe you should try out for soccer,” I added, speed-undressing and -dressing. “I mean, aren’t you as good as the Forevers or the locals or whatever?”

Berry nodded, looking suddenly more like her chill self. “When I was little, I played on the team. For like a minute.”

“And?”