“Salad of champions,” she declares solemnly, and I don’t know whether to laugh or hurl. “And hey, thanks for trying tonight, even if it was kind of a bust. And, uh, thank your boyfriend, too. He’s the only guy on the team who’s been halfway decent to me.”

It’s the first time in a year that the truth about me and Miguel has danced on my tongue. There was nothing to tell Veronica, since we knew absolutely nothing about each other outside of cheer world and had no plans to change that. But whether it’s Jack’s rare laugh, or her strength and drive, or the shyness so at odds with this massive thing she’s doing here, somewhere along the line the name “Cheer Girl” went from pissing me off to curling my toes. And now I just … feel like I want to know more. And for her to maybe really know me, a little.

But I swallow it down, because as much as I hate this, Miguel’s secret is wrapped up in the lie too, and I can’t break his trust like that.

“I will,” I force out, wishing I could apologize for what must seem like messing with her head.

I expect her to let herself out of the car then, but after a few beats of awkward silence, she speaks again. “I know you’re doing your best at this whole ‘cheer’ thing, and I appreciate it. Guess I’m just beyond help.”

“You are not beyond help, four-eyes,” I say. “It’s gonna get better. You’ll see.”

“If you say so.”

“It’ll make a difference when you start winning. I know I sound like a broken record, but I really do believe that.” I think. I’m pretty sure I believe it, anyway.

“Except that winning could also make it worse, right? I see what you were saying now about the sanctification of Robbie Oakes. Maybe it’s just not possible for me to replace a dead guy. Sorry if that sounds insensitive,” she adds quickly. “I hadn’t realized he was a friend of yours, too.”

“He wasn’t,” I say, glad there’s at least one secret I can safely tell her tonight. “I mean, that’s between you and me—and Miguel—but … yeah. You don’t ever have to worry about Robbie love coming from this direction.”

“Good to know.” She unbuckles her seat belt, and I don’t know why, but it feels like the end of the world’s worst date. “Thanks for the ride and everything.”