“Aubree, Bryce, Cassidy, Devon, Hunter, Jax, Jeremiah, Laurie, Mateo, Mercedes, Nicky, Noah, Oliver, Ryder, Rose, Stephen, Tamora, and Zack,” Lia said. “Plus anyone whose schedule changed since the game started.”

“Who even is Aubree?” Gem asked, scrolling through their phone.

“Transferred last year. Loves Hello Kitty.” Lia groaned. “I had way more information in my journal.”

Lia reached down into her bag to grab her agenda, and left half of her textbooks on the floor.

Gem snorted and glanced down. “Well, well, well.” Gem reached into Lia’s backpack and pulled a small leather journal from the very bottom. “Someone named Lia Prince is the worst.”

“What the hell?” Lia took her journal from Gem and flipped through it. It was a bit beaten up, as if it had been living at the bottom of a bag for weeks, but she had emptied her backpack at home the day she thought it was gone. “No way.”

The pages were as Lia remembered them, and a cold dread settled over her. Had she really missed this? Forgotten she had grabbed it?

“It was not in there this whole time,” she said. “It couldn’t have been. I emptied this bag so many times.”

Gem nodded, eyes wide. “Yeah.”

“I did!”

“I am sure you did,” Gem said. “Just like I am sure that trauma can affect memory.”

Lia’s fingers picked at the fraying leather strings meant to keep the journal shut, and flipped open the journal to Aubree’s page.

“Afraid of dogs and bees,” read Lia. “Great. My memory is terrible, our friends are dead, and someone I can’t figure out is going to take me out of the game.”

Lia drew a line through everyone on the football and soccer teams. They had withdrawn and forfeited their upcoming matches.

“Not to be a broken record,” Gem said, “but priorities. Mark off Ryder. He was tutoring. I can’t imagine Laurie getting her hands dirty, Jax is creepy but was on a date, and Mateo was streaming League all afternoon. His streaming schedule is in his bio.”

Lia sank down into her seat and propped her feet up on the chair in front of her. “Okay, that helps.”

They lapsed into silence. Lia watched the rehearsal, in awe of the way the players shifted from students to musicians. Devon tilted his chin and arched his fingers, preparing to play, and the tension seeped from him as the music carried across the auditorium. There was a purpose in the movement and calm in his face, and Lia couldn’t think of a time when she had ever felt how he looked. But still a sense of calm settled over her as Devon and the others played on. The instructor called for them to stop and spoke to the horn section. Devon lowered his violin.

He caught her gaze every time he could, the crook of his smile lost in the stage lights.

Gem groaned. “I’m going to run to Sonic and you can moon over Devon while I’m gone.”