I definitely don’t improve anyone’s opinion of me when I drag six tipsy strangers into the Scholenberg house. Ellie’s still out with her extended family, so I don’t have so much as a single ally. “Stay here,” I instruct them all when we enter the living room. “I’m just going to change real quick.”

I rush toward the stairs past Sydney, the fittingly named Australian who’s scrolling through her phone on the couch.

Another Scholenberg attendee blocks the first step. “Seriously?” Olivia asks. She’s Norwegian. Maybe Swedish? We’ve yet to step on the field together, but she’s preemptively taken an aggressive stance, glaring at me every chance she gets. This is our first verbal encounter, however.

“We won’t be here long,” I assure her.

“Meaning you’re going out.”

“Yes.”

She sniffs disdainfully. “Interesting training routine you have.”

My temper flares at the absurdity of someone accusing me of not training hard enough. “Tomorrow is Sunday, also known as our day off. And we’ll see what you have to say about my training routine next week.” I brush past her, heading into my room. I change in record time, swap my cross-body bag for a clutch, and hurry back downstairs.

Natalie lets out a long wolf-whistle when I appear.

“Damnit, we should have made you come in your t-shirt and shorts,” London says from the couch, giggling as she surveys the dress and leather jacket I changed into. “How do you manage to just look like that?”

I roll my eyes. “Get up. Let’s go.”

Our next stop is the hotel they’re all staying at. The exterior blends with the local architecture, but as soon as we enter, I feel as though I’ve stepped back into the States. There’s the same generic carpeting and bland art as every hotel I’ve stayed in.

The girls have adjoining rooms with twin beds and cots set up. I don’t ask who’s getting stuck with the cots, but pity whoever the two are when I take a seat on one. They’re just as uncomfortable as one would expect sitting on a canvas-and-wood construction to be. At least they’re free of whatever questionable fluids are preserved in the comforters covering the beds.

You’d think the fact that they’re only staying for one night would mean my companions would have all packed just one outfit, but no. I’m definitely guilty of traveling with twice the amount I actually need, but I lose patience after the fourth outfit Natalie parades around in, especially since it’s the same short-skirt-lacy-tank-top combo as the last three.

Emma calls halfway through the fashion show.

“Hello?” I answer grumpily.

“Lovely to talk to you too, dear,” she replies, laughing. “Did I wake you up or something? I thought it was only—”

“You didn’t wake me up. You interrupted Natalie’s fourth outfit option.”