“You’re not really talking about leaving the quarterback out of Midnight Breakfast, are you? Come on, guys.” I’m addressing everyone, but I keep my eyes fixed on Crystal, because if anyone else can put what’s best for the squad over everything else, it’s her.

“Look, I wish it weren’t true that the team would probably be happier without her there, but…” Crystal shrugs like it’s totally out of her hands. She doesn’t look entirely comfortable about it, to be fair; she’s Atherton’s first Black cheer captain, which means she knows exactly what it’s like to go through some shit on her way to the top. But that was from a few asshole alumni, not the squad itself, which voted for her unanimously. Having someone whose own people want them to fail is uncharted territory for all of us. “It’s not being mean to say that no one wants her there. It’s being honest. And we have to think about what the team wants.”

“She’s part of the team,” I argue. My voice sounds feeble and I hate myself for it, but it sucks arguing with Crystal. It isn’t that she’s the type who’s never open for debate—one of the reasons I most respect her as our fearless leader—but having fought her way to where she is means she doesn’t like having her final decision questioned, either. Most of the time, that’s fine; it’s rare I disagree with her. But I sure as hell do now.

That said, how hard do I wanna fight for this? I need the squad to see me as a team player; they aren’t gonna want a captain next year who isn’t. But if I back down as a leader, is that any better?

I can’t imagine shoving Jack to the side is the best thing for team unity, but maybe Crystal’s right that including her isn’t either. And it’s not like I promised Jack I’d do what she asked; all I did was listen. I don’t owe her anything.

But if that’s true, why is guilt settling into my bones?

“Tell you what,” Zoe says, a smug smile on her face as she stretches her right heel over her head. “You want her there so badly? You creep into her room at night and bring her.”

Everyone else laughs and whistles, and oh my God the irony that seeing Jack in whatever she sleeps in (if anything at all—oh God, please let it be something or I am going to die) is supposed to be some sort of punishment. But I believe this is what they call a win-win scenario, and there’s no way in hell I’m gonna pass up on that, even if I have to pretend this is somehow the nightmare everyone else thinks it should be.