“Are you sure?” the beautiful boy said, meeting Ashna’s eyes more directly than anyone at school ever looked at one another. There was something adult, unafraid, something deeply confident about the way he met her eyes, as though he didn’t know how not to see her.

“Yes, I’m sure I’m not OD-ing on anything, but thanks for asking.”

His mouth twisted. He had a mouth like the models in the perfume ads from Nisha’s glossy magazines. A wide, lush mouth made for hinting at a smile by the slightest pulling up at the edges. He said nothing more, just waited for her to answer the question he’d really been asking, the one she had deflected so clumsily.

“I’m hiding from the girls on my team.” Hearing the words pop out of her mouth surprised her so much she blinked up at him.

A frown folded between brows that were thick and arched. “Your teammates are not nice to you?” He had an accent of some sort. Something South American or European, she couldn’t decipher what kind exactly, but it explained how he looked. Boys in Woodside didn’t look like this, sun-kissed in the way of glossy magazine models.

“No, they’re very nice to me.”

“You hide from people who are nice to you, then?” He even cocked his head with an accent. Something about that made her want to laugh out loud.

“Every single thing you’ve said to me has been a question,” she said needlessly.

She wasn’t sure if he meant to answer, but before he could, his gaze flew to the right of her head and before she could respond to the warning shout he gave, his hand shot out and caught the ball before it smashed her in the head.

One-handed, his palm splatted against the leather, fully in control.

Shouts rose behind her. With the kind of skill she’d only seen pros display, he spun the ball up in the air, bounced it with his knee, and then letting it drop to his feet he juggled it a few times before bending it in a perfect arc to the exact spot on the pitch where some boys from the soccer team were waiting for it.

At first there was complete stunned silence, then cheers rose from the pitch.

His face shuttered. His entire body went into lockdown. Ashna had never seen anyone pull on armor, but this had to be how it looked. He turned, eager to make an escape, but then he threw a glance at her and paused. Possibly because her mouth was hanging open.

“Hi . . . Excuse me. Do you go to Green Brook High?” the soccer coach called, jogging up to them.

The boy gave the barest nod and Coach Clarence stuck out his hand. “Do you play for a club?”