Ellie is just staring at me, wide-eyed, so I grab another wad of napkins from the dispenser and finish mopping up the mess myself. “No need to help, guys,” I tell them, taking a bite of my sandwich.

“Is she joking?” Ellie asks Alexis.

“Uh, I—I don’t—I’m not sure,” Alexis stutters.

I roll my eyes. “Sitting right here, Ellie.”

“You’re serious,” Ellie declares. “And you didn’t tell me?” Alexis says nothing.

“You’re going to lead with that, really?” I ask. “After how you just reacted?”

“Saylor, it’s Adler Beck! How did you think I would react?”

“I didn’t give any thought to how you might react to my sex life, honestly,” I reply before taking another bite. It’s not true if the number of times I’ve lied to her the last few weeks is any indication.

“How many times have you slept with him?” Ellie demands. It’s the question I was hoping she wouldn’t ask, but given the way the topic came up, it’s hardly a surprise.

I still feign disapproval. “Seriously?”

Ellie nods vigorously; Alexis looks even more uncomfortable. “I don’t know. Twenty, maybe? I haven’t been keeping track.” On purpose, and that’s actually a conservative estimate now that I think about it. I’m surprised. I don’t even think Drew and I have had sex that many times, and we’ve been hooking up since freshman year. I’ve known Beck for six weeks.

“Twenty?” Ellie looks stunned.

I shrug. “He’s good in bed.”

“Okay, now we’re getting to the juicy stuff,” Ellie says, grinning as she leans forward eagerly. Alexis blushes scarlet.

I laugh. “Sorry, we’re not getting into the details of my sex life. You’ll have to take your ‘one’ shot with him and find out for yourself.”

“Let’s go, everyone. Bus is here!” One of the assistant coaches enters the house and starts herding us outside to head back to the stadium.

The brief trip to the van is all it takes for a fresh film of sweat to coat my body fully. It’s sweltering today, well into the nineties, possibly brushing a hundred. The second half of the day is usually more intense than the first, and there’s a fair bit of grumbling throughout the brief trip.

But there’s not so much as the barest wisp of a sigh as we file into the dim room in the depths of the stadium where our film sessions take place. Coach Weber is already waiting at the front of the room, drawing out lines on the whiteboard next to the projector screen.