I spun the combo lock on my locker. Suddenly, someone slammed into my back, knocking my forehead against the painted metal.

I shoved my body back, rubbing my forehead. I turned around, but whoever it was mixed in with the rest of the school pouring into the hallways. I don’t know which was worse, that someone had done it on purpose or that I hadn’t even mattered enough to register on their radar of objects to avoid.

I jerked my locker open. Down the hall people parted. No bowing or fanning with palm leaves? What a surprise. Small towns loved their sports, and a winning sports team? It was shocking that there wasn’t a rose petal and glitter requirement. Even after three years in this town, the hero worship never stopped confusing the hell out of me.

At the front of the pack, Dare walked with a confidence some of the teachers didn’t even have. He wasn’t the quarterback—Bennet never let anyone forget his position on the team—but that didn’t stop people from fawning all over Dare.

I turned, rummaging through my locker. Today’s math homework that I’d finished last week and stashed here wasn’t in my math folder. A corner of the paper stuck out from the barely-there gap along the side of my locker. Using pincer fingers, I bit my tongue, focused on extricating the paper without ripping it. Re-doing it before class wasn’t an option. There was no time. Why were we being assigned actual work at this point in the year? Hadn’t everyone submitted their applications already?

“Letterman jackets for today’s parade, huh?” The lockers rattled as Piper slid into her spot beside me. The football player hallway parade was an unofficial Greenwood Senior High tradition. Every football player received a navy and yellow letterman jacket at the start of the season. One of those bumped anyone up the social stratosphere of the school by at least ten rungs. The players didn’t even let their girlfriends wear them.

I’d made the mistake of walking through the social hierarchy peacock show on my first day here and was nearly tackled by the head cheerleaders. It hadn’t been the worst moment of my first day, when I’d showed up still puffy-eyed, three days after the funeral, and determined to distract myself from the new reality that felt too foreign to even absorb.

The Greenwood cheerleaders took their points of pride, taking up the flank positions a little behind the guys, striking poses while they cat-walked down the hall. Just like they did at pep rallies, with the plastic smiles that hid their more sinister lizard-people strength.

“Brand new ones.” She nudged her glasses higher, squinting through the lenses that magnified her eyes to look anime-huge. She joked that standing beside me, hers made mine look chic.

“How can you tell?” I slipped my homework safely in my class folder.

“They’re the championship jackets bought in time for the trophy ceremony in a few weeks. They got a second batch of new ones after the championship last year, too. Where have you been?”