A note drifted in with the cold-as-balls air. I froze. My heart rate spiked like I was back on the field and a play had just been called out. The refrain played again and stopped without the fluidity from the back steps, but it was her. Was she singing too? Even leaning halfway out the window, I strained to make out her voice. My still-wet feet slid on the wood floor and I pitched out the window. The bottom-of-a-rollercoaster feeling did a deep dive into my stomach and my view of the ground was no longer below me, but right in front of my eyes.

My hands shot out. Bracing myself on the side of the house, I caught my feet against the glass. What would the papers write about this when someone found my crumpled corpse in a few days, still in my boxers? Teen sex ritual goes wrong: do you know what your children are doing? I shuddered and walked my hands back toward the windowsill. I’d come inches from killing myself. I flung myself back inside the house after my nearly neck-breaking attempt to hear every note.

What the hell was wrong with me? I shook my head. Falling to my death to hear her voice was a new level of insanity. But I couldn’t stop wishing she was playing on her back steps tonight.

* * *

The parking lot pageant was a Greenwood Senior High tradition. People with too much money and too much time showing off to the same kids they’d gone to school with since we were five. We all knew Andy Phillips had peed himself in the third grade, so that meant he had to upgrade his Lexus every year. Gary DiNotti was the first to get caught with a boner in eighth grade history class. Mrs. Greene had been hot as hell, but it meant he dedicated himself in the gym to the point where he could barely turn his head.

Everyone cruised into the lot and hung by their cars. Hoods were popped, balls were thrown, and the cheerleader strut would make anyone do a double take. Were we in Pennsylvania or Paris Fashion Week?

“Great game, Dare.” One of the senior girls leaned against the hood of my car. Was that a lollipop in her mouth? Her dentist dad had to be pissed about that.

“Hey.” A disinterested head nod was all I could muster.

My car rocked. Knox slammed the trunk, retrieving one of the balls stashed there. He chucked it my way and I palmed it, holding it in front of me like a pig-skinned shield between me and a viper.

“I missed you at Bennet’s party.”

“You’d have had to be looking for me to miss me.” I shoved my hand in my pocket, staring over her head. My disinterest didn’t seem to register one bit.

She smiled wide and stepped even closer. “I was looking for you.”

“Was this before or after you blew Bennet on the deck?” I cocked my head. “You can do whatever the hell you want, I’m not judging, but don’t pretend your interest has anything to do with me.” This is what I got for getting sucked into the whole football players rule the school bullshit my first two years on the team. It’s hard to walk away when you’re trying to fit in.