“Survivor’s guilt,” Gem said as Lia got into the backseat next to Devon and told them how she was feeling. “We talked about it in psych once.”

“Cool,” Lia said, because putting a name to it didn’t really help. “So, about Leo—the team has to cross the street when they do their lap around the grounds. That means they have to wait for the light, and they usually go in two or three groups. Leo’s usually last, and when everyone crosses the street, there’s a stretch of sidewalk that’s usually blocked by traffic. He’ll feel safe. He won’t speed up because usually he wouldn’t be alone. We hit the crosswalk buttons on either end of the street and delay traffic, and one of us takes him out while he’s crossing that stretch. He won’t be in the line of sight of the others if they all stick to their usual running patterns, and given how exhausting practice is, they probably will.”

“On top of things as always,” Devon said.

“Gem and Ben will hit the crosswalk buttons. Because of traffic, they won’t count as alone, so we have to stop traffic,” Lia said. “Devon or I will take the shot from across the drainage ditch.”

“Going to challenge me to a duel to determine who the best shot is?” Devon asked.

Lia grinned. “I’m the best shot. I was just going to let you take it if you wanted.”

The best gym in Lincoln was across from a closed YMCA. Gem let Devon and Lia off in the YMCA’s parking lot, all three making sure no cars had followed them and no one was watching from the windows of the gym. Devon helped Lia out of the car and flipped up his hood. If they got caught, it would be best if Leo didn’t know it was them. She pulled her wool hat lower.

“Here,” she said, and pointed to the gate at the edge of the overgrown YMCA lot. There was no fence attached to it, and the little valley behind it was meant for water runoff, but it had been far too dry for that. “It’s not trespassing; I checked. We can keep watch from atop the other side. The moment Leo’s alone, we’ve got him.”

“How many times did you spy on the team to figure this out?” Devon asked, his face drenched in light from the rising sun.

“Only a few times,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “It meant I knew enough about the whole team to call it there.”

He shook his head, and Lia trudged out of the creek and up into the little forested area separating the neighborhood from the old lot. His chuckling followed her.

“What?” she asked. “Not all of us have everything figured out. I need something to be good at, and games are it. Competitions. You’ve got orchestra, and I’ve got this.”

Lia had always needed something. She was hungry, but everyone always told her that what she wanted wasn’t right. It was like wanting bread and being told carbs were bad. She wanted to do what she wanted, and here she was, finally doing it, except none of it was right.