“I’d just hate for something to happen to you, Fitzy. You’re working so hard and have everything going for you.”

I cringe because that’s what Coach says.

With the light pointed up, Parker glows in the dark. My head nearly bumps the seat of the bleacher above me. My right leg is going numb. But I don’t want to look away. Not for a second.

This is it, I think to myself. It’s now or never. I either tell Parker I love her and want her to be my girlfriend, or I accept that I am absolute chicken shit.

She hands me the flashlight, and I keep it pointed up while she rummages around in her backpack again.

“Are you looking to pass your get-out-of-jail card to me? Does that work even if my mom isn’t running for president?”

“We always bail each other out,” she reminds me, pulling out a black marker. “Isn’t that what we agreed on?”

Parker pulls the cap off, sticking it between her teeth, and lifts the marker. I smile because I know what she’s going to write. It’s not our initials in the middle of a heart with an arrow going through it. What she’s going to write is something more than that. What she writes is our secret.

REBELS ONLY.

The inscription on the bleachers doesn’t differ all that much from where she carved the same saying into the outside of the clubhouse that no longer exists.

Parker plucks the marker cap from her mouth. “Let’s see if it’s still here at our tenth high school reunion.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Will we still be rebels then?”

Most of Parker’s face disappears when she turns to tuck the marker into her backpack, now hidden by her dark wavy hair. But I can see the smile on the side of her face. And even if it’s only half, it’s enough for me. I wish I was brave enough to tell her, she’s enough for me.

And for a second, during what might be the last time we’re ever on the campus of the same school, I contemplate it.

But Parker’s right. I’m a chicken. Because to have her, I risk losing some things. Our friendship, for one. And, according to Coach, my future.

Parker fully faces me once more, the whole of her smile coming into view. “We’ll always be rebels, Fitzy.”

I storm into the bathroom, ripping my clothes off, watching my chest expand and shrink quickly. But my uneasy breathing isn’t what I remain focused on. My eyes fall to the black lettering just below my right hip bone.

REBELS ONLY.

Nick is wrong. The words forever etched into my skin will never not hold meaning no matter the uniform I wear.