“You go here to get rich,” Tyler had said. “Lots of us come in on scholarships.”

“Whoa,” I said.

“What’re these buildings?” Carter asked. “The map has them named after people.”

“You’ve got your physical sciences right here.” Luke pointed to the main building, which was made entirely out of glass and looked like it had four floors that consisted of only lab rooms. “Like chem, physics, et cetera.” He nodded to the next tower. “Then you’ve got your life sciences. You know, bio, geology, environmental.” The third tower looked identical to the other two but was the farthest away from the parking lot. “Then you’ve got your physiological sciences—we’re talking neuro, kinesiology—this is where the PT program is too.”

“Bunch of guys on the team are in that,” said Tyler.

“Like physical therapy?” I asked. I’d known Clarkebridge had a robust sports training department. That was the extent of it.

Luke nodded. “It’s kind of a weird one. It’s a six-year program, where the rest of Clarkebridge is four.”

“But you graduate with a doctorate, basically,” said Tyler.

“Wait that’s awesome.”

Tyler chuckled. “There are some hard bio and physics classes,” he said, “and anatomy is a nightmare. But the guys love helping other people move better. And recover from injuries or whatever.”

Carter nudged me.

“Probably have to be at the top of your class to get in, though?” I asked, dreading the answer.

Tyler shook his head. “It helps, though the professors actually prefer students with a personal connection. Helps you not fail out.”

“If you’re interested,” Luke said, “there’s a separate app you can fill out. I think you need to pass the AP bio test too. I can send you the info if you want.”

“Same thing for pre-med,” Luke said to Carter. “So many people apply here, it’s another way to show you’re committed.”

“Easy,” I joked.

Carter clapped me on the back, his way of helping me relax. “Study buddies, bro.” He held out his fist for me to pound.

To try out for the Clarkebridge soccer team, you had to be invited, but they didn’t try out all the potential recruits together. Instead, Carter and I joined the existing team for a practice session, and we’d be evaluated at their caliber. Kind of like how Spider-Man got to join the Avengers after he helped them save the world. The stakes of this tryout felt just as huge. Two other high schoolers joined as well.

Rather than feeling the pressure, excited energy fueled my every breath. Since it was already starting to get dark, we played under bright stadium lights that made it hard not to feel like a celebrity.

Carter and I were each given Clarkebridge practice pinnies (white on one side, blue on the other) and paired with one of the team captains—our drill partners for the evening. Kyle Kohl, a six-foot-five senior from Ohio, started easy on me.

“You’re usually a forward?” he asked.

“On my high school team. On club I played mid. I can do whatever.” Though I hate defense.