Declan swaggers over to me right as I think his name, a broad grin stretching across his freckled face. He’s as Irish as his name, down to the red hair. Not to mention the morally gray business ventures. According to him, his grandfather was in the Irish mafia and so it runs in the family. He deals drugs too, which is how I met him in the first place. Finn uses him as his main supplier.

Declan’s smile impossibly widens when he sees me, taking over his whole face. He lives for this shit. “Adams! You ready, man?”

I meet his exuberance with monotone. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

I am. My body is conditioned to know what takes place here by now. Adrenaline starts to pump through my system as I analyze Casper. Memorizing how he moves and where his weaknesses might be as he stands with a few other guys from Ridgemont.

Restless rage simmers and spreads, heating my blood and combating the chill in the air. I could probably trace the source of it if I really tried. Instead, I embrace the recklessness. It feels like driving down a deserted road with the windows down and the accelerator flat on the floor. Moving too fast to worry about consequences.

I know this is stupid and pointless. I know my dad would be disappointed and Sydney would be worried.

Sometimes making bad decisions feels really good.

Focusing on this cuts through the mess in my head, the worries about the future and the uncertainty about what my life should look like. I’m floating, and it’s an anchor to grasp. The only other time I can tune everything out like this is when I’m on a basketball court.

My teachers call me lazy. My friends call me wild. My dad isn’t around to call me anything.

The only thing I want to be called right now is a winner.

I pull the roll of tape out of the pocket of my hoodie and start wrapping my hands. It’s a move I learned online watching boxing videos. As an intimidation tactic, more than anything.

I’ve always had a short temper. But I can control it. Most of the time when I’m pissed, I let it roil inside of me and don’t let it out. When I do, it’s because I choose to.

There are only a handful of times I’ve lost control. Most of them were when peers would pick on Sydney when we were younger. The most recent time was when Finn mentioned dating Cassia. I knew he was talking shit the way he often does, and I still lost my cool.

I rip the end of the tape off with my teeth and then shove the roll back in my pocket. Whip my sweatshirt and the t-shirt I was wearing off in one practiced move, smirking at the catcalls from the girls gathered round.