He bounced up and down like an overactive puppy. “Bethany’s going to the after party with the other cheerleaders. Since when are you not up for a bit of oral gratitude?”

“I’m tired. I’m going home. Don’t do anything stupid.” My stomach growled.

“You know me.” He plopped down in his seat.

“Exactly.” I shoved my headphones back in my ears and rested my head against the freezing window, letting the rhythmic cadence of the street lights and rocking of the bus chassis drag me under into a dead sleep. More like letting myself pass out after the exhaustion. Keeping myself in check on the field was as punishing as throwing myself at the bodies of my opponents, but I wasn’t doing anything to jeopardize my last shot at signing the recruitment letter for a college scholarship.

After getting off the bus, I headed to my car. I flipped on the overhead light and checked my wallet. Moths might as well have flown out. I flicked open my glove compartment and center console. Nothing.

My stomach made angry rumblings, pissed off at my body being pushed so hard with no fuel injection. Maybe there was some food at home.

But my stomach faded to the background as I got to the intersection ahead of my house. Instead of turning down my street, I went around the long way. I rolled past Bay’s street. All the lights were off in her house and the car wasn’t in the driveway. Was her mom not home? Or was Bay out partying? Maybe The New Girl had a wild side no one had seen in the past three years. Maybe she biked three towns over to let her freak flag fly.

I shook my head. What the hell had her song done to me? And why was I driving past Bay’s house after midnight in the first place?

When I got home, the house was quiet. Opening the fridge, I stared at the vast emptiness. Shit. I should’ve taken Knox up on his offer. The cabinets were also almost bare. A lone box of Cap’n Crunch that might as well have had cobwebs on it stared back at me. Handfuls of stale cereal it was.

A knock jerked me out of my liter water chug to quiet my stomach.

I opened the door.

A kid who didn’t look familiar stood back a step and stared up at me with fear in his eyes.

“What?” I said through the last handful of crunch berries.

He glanced down my street.

“Someone said you could help me out.”

“I don’t have any drugs.” I moved to close the door. Of course the poor kid eating fucking cereal at midnight was a dealer.

“No, it’s about my car. My mom’s car, actually, and she’ll murder me if she sees the dent.” He glanced over his shoulder to the car in the driveway with a girl in the passenger seat.

I dusted off my hands and narrowed my gaze. “Let me see it.”