When Simon was safely in the shower, Gabriel dug through his bag for an extra shirt for Simon and a pair of socks for himself. Chris had followed him back to the bench and now just sat there watching him.

Gabriel sighed.

“You know,” said Chris, “that’s probably not going to come off with soap and water.”

Gabriel didn’t look at him. “That antiseptic crap in there will practically take your skin off, so maybe . . .” He shrugged. At least it was Friday, and JV wouldn’t practice again until Monday. Simon wouldn’t have to shower with the rest of the team until then.

And hopefully the words would have faded.

“Ryan Stacey is in my English class,” said Chris. “He’s an asshole.”

“I got that, thanks. He pulls this again, I’m going to light him on fire.”

No response, but Gabriel could feel his brother watching him.

“Damn it, Chris. What?” He looked up. “What are you even doing here?”

“Wow. No ‘Thanks, Chris, for saving my ass—’”

“You did not save my ass.”

“Yeah, well, I probably saved you from a suspension. You think Mike’s on your case now—”

Gabriel glared at him. “I think you need to stay out of it.”

Chris didn’t back down, but then he wasn’t that type. “What happened with Nick?”

Gabriel looked back at his bag. The worst part was, he had no idea what had happened with Nick. He couldn’t even remember why he’d picked that fight.

“You know,” said Chris, “I had to listen to a raft of crap from Becca about the things you said to Quinn, but I know you—”

“Boo-hoo.” Gabriel yanked the zipper closed. “I’m sorry I interfered in your love life.”

Chris sighed and shrugged his backpack onto his shoulder. “All right. Forget it. Sorry for caring.”

“Oh, is that what you’re doing?”

“Not anymore.” Chris rounded the bank of lockers.

Gabriel wanted to punch something.

Maybe he could go find Ryan Stacey.

But then Chris reappeared. He threw a glance at the wall that separated the lockers from the shower room. “Who’s his sister?”

Gabriel looked back in his bag and kept his voice nonchalant. “Just a girl in my math class.”

“Just a girl, huh?”

Gabriel glared at him. “Just a girl.”

Chris smiled. “So was Becca.”

Layne sat at her desk, waiting for class to begin. She’d started working through the problems at the end of the next unit, desperate for something that would make her look busy.

Unfortunately, her brain wouldn’t think about numbers. It was all too content to replay the feel of Gabriel’s hands at her waist. His breath against her hair. He wasn’t even sitting beside her yet, and her mind was already scripting PG-13 fantasies.

No, probably just PG. She’d never even kissed a boy, much less anything else.

Thank god she’d been wearing that jacket.