It did seem like me going to the game would not mean open season on me. Tanner had spent the day continuing to apparently not care about me. After English he sailed right past me into a sea of high fives from everyone, including Mr. Davidson, who high-fived all the players on their way out.

And then, as I was the last person out of the classroom, Mr. Davidson complimented my outfit. “What a lovely daiquiri green. That jacket!”

“Thanks! I like your jersey.” I squinted. “Is that a Greenville ­Dragons jersey?”

Mr. Davidson held up his arms. He was actually wearing the ancient soccer jersey over a slightly blousy blouse, which, let’s say it, is how they should be worn. “Vintage.” He winked. “From back in my power forward days. Enjoy the game!”

By the end of the last class, the hallways were quaking with students cheering and hammering on the lockers in an a-rhythmic but compelling beat that exploded out into the quad as students and teachers and parents piled into the bleachers. Lucy and Millie were seated in the center square, so to speak. Millie was wearing a green sweater and had looped a green sparkly collar around Monty’s neck. Berry and I crept into the stands by the goalie net, which was Berry’s favorite spot.

“John’s a shit goalie,” Berry said, popping open a bag of pretzels, “but he’s getting better.”

As Tanner and the team ran onto the field, the crowd stood up and cheered. Tanner ran backward and waved at the stands, doing a few extra leaps. It was weird to see the guy who wore his soccer jersey every day finally on the field, actually playing soccer.

It was like all the pieces were in place. He grinned and raised his arms in the air, holding up two fingers, like. . .peace signs?

Okay.

Suddenly there was a sharp bark from the crowd, which I legitimately thought was Monty.

“TANNER!”

Berry and I looked over at the same time to see Tanner’s father—who I recognized from Pizza Fight Day—pointing a meaty finger at Tanner on the field. Tanner’s dad looked like Tanner, but with more concrete in his jaw. He wore a button-down shirt and jeans, both of which seemed to barely contain the man wearing them. His hands were like steaks.

“TANNER! GET YOUR HEAD IN THE GAME!”

“Yikes.” I looked at Berry.

“Seeerious business.” Berry popped a pretzel in her mouth and chewed.

I’m sure there’s two levels to enjoy sports on. One of them is understanding why people are doing what they’re doing. The other is just watching who wins without understanding why. It seemed like the Dragons were fast. Tanner was very fast, and he could move around people with a kind of sharp speed that made me think he practiced at home with some sort of system with cones.