Footsteps sound on the stairs. Maggie stares at me, eyebrows raised and expression imploring. I don’t usually think she and Cassia look much alike. But right now, it’s all I can see.

Damnit.

“Yeah, fine,” I tell Maggie. “Okay.”

She beams at me. “3:30.”

Mrs. Nolan walks into the living room. “Cassia’s in the shower. I’m sure she’ll be out soon.”

“It’s fine.” I unzip my backpack and pull out the essay I got back earlier, folding it in half and handing it to Mrs. Nolan. “Can you just give this to her?”

“I—of course. But are you sure you don’t—”

“No. I need to get going. Thanks, though.”

“All right. Don’t be a stranger, Holden.”

I glance at Mrs. Nolan. There’s something knowing in her expression, some conclusion about why I’m here and why I’ve stayed away. I don’t know if it’s the correct one, and I’m not all that interested in finding out.

I give her a smile and a small nod before turning and leaving the room.

* * *

A haze of weed smoke drifts by as I climb out of my truck. The old court usually smells like pot. They leveled the old high school when the new building was finished, but someone decided it wasn’t worth tearing up the rectangle of asphalt and two metal hoops. The tennis courts survived as well.

“He’s here, bitches!” Finn ensures no one misses our arrival, bounding out of the passenger side and toward the group gathered on the periphery of the woods. The large group.

What started as a small gathering has grown every week. I see more and more familiar faces as I walk closer, and it fills me with unease.

This was meant to be low-key—a way to blow off some steam and make money in the process. The more people who know, the messier it could get.

Finn reappears at my side, slinging an arm around my shoulder. “Casper is already here.”

“Fine,” I respond, shaking him off.

He reeks of vodka. Just about everyone here appears tipsy.

I’m entirely sober.

I’m stupid enough to fight, but I’m not suicidal.

Casper Wallace is a stereotypical football player. Solid, beefy, and broad. If he pins me down, I’ll be in trouble. And I’m sure those massive fists of his pack a wallop. But I’m taller and faster than he is. Plus, the way Casper is shifting tells me this is unfamiliar to him. He probably ended up here the same way I did—needling from Declan. An offer of easy money and an ego boost.