“Let’s just say today you can. Go on.” I put up my fists. One thing I’ll say in favor of my brothers—they definitely made sure I knew how to throw a punch. “Give it your best shot. Let’s see if your arm is as weak off the field as it is on it.”

“Oh, you think I won’t?” Spit flies from Sanchez’s mouth and he rears back, but his swing is predictable enough to catch in my right fist and my left returns the favor straight into his gut.

“Y’all, stop.” I’m not sure who yells it. Santiago, maybe. But I’m not taking my eyes off Dan to look and I’m definitely not stopping.

Neither is Sanchez, even though my punch knocked the wind out of him for a second. “Fucking bitch,” he growls, diving for me, but at least two sets of hands hold him back.

“Sanchez, she’s not worth it,” Devlin declares, which makes me want to take a swing at him, too. But none of the guys are coming near now, and in fact, they start backing up.

That’s when I realize Coach has arrived.

“What the hell is going on here?” he roars, taking in the guys grabbing at Dan and how we’re all locked in some grand standoff. “Walsh?”

Because of course, the sole girl on the team, currently staring down ten other guys, is the one in the position to answer this question. Sure. I clearly started it.

“Nothing’s going on, Coach,” I say coldly, my eyes flitting from Sanchez to Devlin before briefly landing on Miguel Santiago, hoping I’ll find some confirmation there that I’m doing the right thing. But his face is impossible to read, and it’s all a little too ridiculous, the lone hope for sympathy on the team being the guy whose “girlfriend” I’ve been making out with. “Just a pre-practice chat.”

My knuckles flex and crack, wishing we could make this chat a little longer.

“There a problem, Sanchez?”

“No, sir,” he grunts, and then it’s over as quickly as it began, everyone shifting into place as if it were a perfectly normal, threat-free afternoon. Of course, Sanchez flubs catches left and right during passing drills as if that’ll disprove my commentary and make me look bad, but Coach just tells him to get his shit together.

I’m guessing that’s not gonna make me any more friends. And what kind of cheer do they create for a girl who socked her own teammate? I’m sure it’s a doozy.