And now, here comes Elijah and my head is all over the place.

I take a few minutes to look through the playbook on the bench before the rest of the team trickles out of the locker room. I’ve had most of the formations and running patterns memorized for days, but I always take a look at them when I have an extra minute. There are a few that I’m having trouble remembering, and there’s no such thing as too much studying.

Bucky and Nate join me at the bench.

“Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Elijah when I found out,” Nate says. “I really thought you already knew. Especially since you guys were… you know. I thought if anyone already knew about it, you would have.”

“Sorry I blew up at you,” I tell him. And I do feel guilty. “I just don’t like feeling surprised.”

“Honestly, I was a little ticked that you hadn’t told me,” he says with a little punch on my shoulder. “Anyway, sorry.”

I shake my head at him. “Nothing a few hundred bear crawls won’t solve.”

Bucky throws his arms up in the air. “Man! Not this week!”

I laugh and squirt my water bottle in his face.

I notice Elijah has come out of the locker room by himself and is milling around near the ice buckets, staring nervously around at the other players.

I know I should find a way to make him feel welcome. A good captain would do that. I’ve never been the new kid. Or the returning kid. Or whatever he is. I don’t know what that feels like, but from the look on Elijah’s face, I don’t think it feels too good.

He bounces on the balls of his feet and chews on his lip, pulling his hair back into a tiny ponytail at the back of his head. He tightens the pads on his chest and throws on a mesh jersey, his eyes darting around the group as we all stand around goofing off.

Coach Marcus gives two quick blasts on his whistle, and we all spread out across the grass. I take my place in front of the team and start leading them in stretches, trying to pay attention to my ribs. This morning, a small bruise popped up on my side. I put some tape on it before I got dressed for school, and every time I move, I can feel the curling edges of the tape scraping against my jersey. It’s driving me nuts. Finally, I just rip it off and tuck the sticky ball into the waistband of my football pants.

My eyes fall on Elijah while he stretches.