My phone lights up with a text, and I hate the little blip of hope in my brain that expects to see Amber’s name attached to an apology or even a Can we talk? but it’s just another text from Sage cheering me on for tonight.

No, not just, I remind myself. Sage and Morgan have been as good friends as possible through this entire shitshow; it’s not their fault they kept living their lives without me and having fun at the things we were supposed to do together. It’s not their fault they’ve been trying to watch out for me and I’ve been dismissing all their concerns, or that I gave my fucking heart to a girl who didn’t deserve it.

The wave of missing them hits hard in my chest, adding another layer to my determination to make this my last game. I’m tempted to tell them right here and now, but I can’t stand the humiliation, or the totally irrational part of my brain that worries if they know how big a loser I am here, they’ll decide I’m not worth their time, either.

Tonight, though. Tonight, when it’s all over and I am at my fucking lowest and I need my best friends. Tonight I’ll tell them.

I keep an eye on my phone while I brush my teeth, watch it with laser-beam eyes while I eat breakfast, willing it to light up with something from Amber or even one of my brothers, but nothing else comes.

I take one last look at myself in the mirror, fully dressed in my Alligators uniform from shoulders to toes, and though all I want is to run in the other direction, I set off for school.

With Amber in my first period, I brace myself for the sight of her, but she never shows. At least wondering where she is makes for a welcome distraction from the classmates throwing balled-up pieces of paper at me when the teacher’s turned around with “Catch this!” and “How’s my aim?” and “Gonna scout me?” nastily whispered at me. Whether any of them have notes inside, I don’t bother looking.

Things don’t get better when the bell rings; all the same whispering and pointing is there, even though I’m definitely supposed to be wearing my uniform this time. In fact, the only people being suspiciously nice to me—if you can call flat-out ignoring me “nice”—are the other guys on the team, because they’re too stupid to realize that’s a way bigger giveaway that they’ve got shit planned than just being their usual asshole selves.