The release lasted only a few moments, though. By the time I arrived at Undesirables, I was right back up in my head again with all the things that could go wrong.

When I entered the bar, the entire Killa Honeys team was already there with several jugs of frothy, bright beer adorning their tables. I was grateful for the fake ID I’d bought last year off a skater guy I knew. I’d already used it as proof of age for the tryouts and hoped to hell I didn’t get caught out.

Calls of “Fresh meat!” greeted me as I shuffled over. Kat was sitting at one end of a table, and the four seats next to her had a shot of something beige and creamy in front of each. Three of those seats were filled by people I recognized from tryouts. Two looked almost as anxious as I felt. The other was happily pouring beer down their throat. The last seat, I assumed, was for me.

“We got a spot—and a shot—for you right here, sister!” Kat called out, and hammered the table with her open hand, sending beer slopping over the edge of several glasses.

As I sat down, I noticed Shanti standing near the bar. She gave me a tentative wave and a smile. I still wasn’t sure what was up with her, but she’d sent me a text after I’d made the team, saying Congrats :), so I gave her a head nod back, trying to ignore the twisting in my stomach that felt like more than just nervousness.

Kat addressed the whole team. “All righty, Honeys. As you know, proving yourself on the track is only half the battle. You four”—she turned to us—“have made the team bench. But if you want to become a full-fledged Killa, you gotta show you’re part of this team off the track too—and that means lots of hijinks, sweet things!”

The team started hooting and clapping at this. My stomach dropped.

Kat continued, “So, we have a special challenge for you, which we’ll tell you about later. You don’t have to drink tonight if you don’t want to, but if you can’t complete the challenge—sober or not—don’t be surprised if you ride the bench all season.” The rest of the team laughed.

I hoped their laughter meant this wasn’t for real—playing time depended on making a fool of myself tonight? Kat couldn’t be serious. I wanted to take Shanti aside to ask her, but the team had already started chanting, “Shots! Shots! Shots!” and beer-guzzler champ beside me had already gulped back the shot in front of them. One by one, so did the rest of us. There was no way I was getting through this night without at least a couple drinks in me. The liquid was sweet. Too sweet for my taste.