He scored three goals in the first. . .quarter. Thing.

The other team scored two.

Anytime Tanner did anything, his dad got up and started yelling about what Tanner had just done. Which seemed to cut through the cheers like. . .a hammer. I guess hammers don’t really cut, but you get it. It was like someone slamming on the door. Only it was just for Tanner. I could see his eyes darting up to the stands.

I will say, while it looked like most of the crowd were having fun, after a few minutes of yelling, it didn’t look like Tanner was having any.

At some point the teams took a break, or it was halftime or something. Berry went looking for more snacks, and parents swarmed my moms so that all I could see was Monty’s tail wagging from inside the crowd.

I looked out over the sea of green. The whole thing felt weirdly buoying but also connecting. Like everyone on that side of the stands was feeling the same thing, in such a big way? And then suddenly the sun on my shoulders disappeared, and I looked up and it was the tall meat tree that was Tanner Spencer’s father.

His hands twitched by his side, flipping the giant gold watch on his wrist around his wrist.

“You must be Anne,” he said in a thick voice.

“Yes. Hello.” I shielded my eyes. The sun crested from behind Mr. Spencer’s giant Easter Island statue head.

“Vice Principal Shirley’s daughter,” he said, sucking on a tooth, “that right? You take that name? Anne Shirley? Since you got two moms? Is that how you do that? Just pick a name?”

“I go by Shirley, sir,” I said.

The air on my face felt prickly. Hot. The sequins on my cheerleader outfit stuck into my thighs. Did he really just ask me if I got to pick a name?

“Right, right. Anne Shirley.” He thumbed his nose. “I’m Michael Spencer. Tanner’s father.”

He tilted his head toward the field as if the field were Tanner.

“Right.” The man who may or may not have called me “disgusting” outside my mom’s office.

“Seems like you’re still adjusting to things around here. Causing a little trouble.”

My stomach squeezed. “Yes, I mean. No,” I said, “I, uh, did and I apologized to Tanner, for the pizza fight. I am sorry.” This was not easy to say. But I said it.

“I heard that. Heard that.” Mr. Spencer stood still as a statue. “Well, we are of course happy to welcome you and your mother to our community. Hopefully you’ll learn a little respect for it. For the community.”

Berry jumped down into the seat next to me, “Mr. Spencer.” She pushed a bag of popcorn under my nose. “Popcorn?”

“It was nice meeting you,” I said to Tanner’s father, holding out my hand. “Thank you for, uh, introducing yourself.”