I let the voices wash over me as I pick at my laces. New guys don’t exactly get me excited any more than old ones, if you know what I mean. Even if I was interested, the quarterback is automatically the captain’s domain; the other girls only have a chance if Crystal decides she doesn’t want him. And Crystal’s been single and horny (she’s a good church girl, but we all know) ever since her boyfriend moved up to Virginia for college, so if the new guy is even a little hot, it’s hands-off for the rest of us.

Besides, this is about more than just a guy—this is a whole shifting dynamic. How’s it gonna work, having someone new? How’s someone gonna join without having sweated it out with Matt Devlin, Dan Sanchez, and the rest of them all summer? And how the hell is this the first I’m hearing about it? What’s the point of having a boyfriend on the football team if he’s not gonna pass along insider info?

Okay, so Miguel Santiago isn’t exactly my real boyfriend, but he’s still in big trouble.

“His name is Jack Walsh. Isn’t that cute?” says Crystal, and the other girls agree that it is. “Anyway, that’s all the info I have for now; the team’s been really tight-lipped about it. But this is where y’all come in. We’ve gotta do up Jack’s locker just like we did the rest of them. Official Atherton welcome. Even if we don’t have time to make cookies at home. Let’s just split up and do what we can to make sure Jack Walsh is very happy here.”

So, this is how I get to prove myself today—not with my splits or lifts or even my lungs, but with my impeccable puffy paint skills. No problem. My puffy paint skills are second to none. Whatever my squad needs.

Gooooo Alligators!

We end up staying in the gym for the entire practice, and by the time I drag my butt to first period, I’m cranky from lack of my usual Monday morning endorphins. Apparently, it shows on my face, because Austin Barrett promptly looks over at me and says, “Hey, Ammo. I’d ask how your summer was, but, uh, looks like your morning’s been a little rough. You okay?”

“You look like crap too, Barrett.”

He laughs. I’d be more pissed, but Austin hasn’t exactly made it a secret he thinks I’m hot, and an extra bit of sleepiness in my eyes or whatever isn’t going to make that go away. Not that I’d mind if it did.

“Ever the sweetheart. You okay?”