“Don’t even tell me you’re on your phone,” Max said on his way to the urinals. “Coach is waiting.”

Marwan slid his phone into his locker, closed and locked it.

Walking onto the indoor field, he knew he had to get out of New York City. People needed space. He wasn’t sure how much, exactly, but it was more than he had at home or here or even out on his bike. Maybe that was why he’d started the whole license plate quest all those years ago. It had helped him dream of spacious skies, majestic purple mountains, and fruited plains. Words like “Montana” and “Oregon” had always promised more.

Probably a lot of people who lived here felt the same about being all piled on top of each other. That was why they honked their horns the second after a light turned green in front of a car up there, or ran red lights (like with Eden’s dad), or fought over parking spots, and cursed at people on bikes.

Nobody had enough room.

She really shouldn’t have taken the device.

They should have left it alone, lied, and said they just hadn’t noticed it. Still, he felt bad about abandoning her with it and really hoped she had gone in and put it back. She seemed entirely too freaked out about it.

Why was he even still thinking about it?

About her?

He needed to focus. Coach was going to choose a goalie soon, and that was the position Marwan wanted and needed. It was down to him and Max, really, and being an alternate was not an option Marwan could live with.

He ran out to meet Coach on the field. Around him, other players were doing various drills.

“Where do you want me?” Marwan asked.

“Far away on a soccer scholarship,” Coach said.

“I know.” Marwan nodded. “Me, too.”

“Can’t be a goalie without goals, Marwan.” An old joke of his.

“I know.”

“So are you gonna tell me why you were late?”

It was ridiculous to feel like he couldn’t mention the device. But it would sound more ridiculous to mention it. Marwan said, “I’m not sure I can tell you without lying, and I really don’t want to lie.”

“Try.”

“Something came up at school,” Marwan said.

Coach studied him for a second. “Midfield.” He nodded toward a cluster of guys practicing passing. “Go.”

They weren’t his favorite guys—not the guys he was usually partnered with—because they were lesser players, and he wondered if Coach was punishing him. Because why have him work with them?

That thought triggered another one, about Eden and Eli and Ilanka and the device. Why us?

Eden

EDEN

“Eden! I’m home!”