I woke up the next morning before the alarm. It must have been the sound of the rain pitter pattering what pulled me away from a dream. I rubbed my eyes, trying to recall it, but all that came to mind was yesterday with Santiago. I groaned and turned in bed, burying myself further into the covers. This was bad, the line between friendly comfort and holding his hand because I simply wanted to was beginning to blur. I had to stop before I embarrassed myself.

My phone said it was 5:38am. I tried to concentrate on the sound of the rain to lull me back into sleep. But when I closed my eyes I could still see his face as my hands wiped his tears. How easy it'd have been to just lean forward and kiss him. But that'd have been shitty. Friends did not take advantage of friends when they were down.

Oh God, I should have kissed him on his forehead, just so he knew how that felt.

I dozed off a little while reimagining the scene in different ways, with no tears. How different it could have been. When the alarm finally went off I was pissed, because my dream was only starting to get good after a few pieces of clothes started flying off. I bolted up and sat on my bed, rubbing my eyes and my face as I turned off the alarm. A text flashed on the screen. It was from Ellen, she was picking me up today.

My reflection in the bathroom mirror scared me so much that it made me laugh. Dark circles under my eyes, face more freckles than face, long red hair in tangles that made me look like I had a jungle in my head. Meanwhile his method of fun was to make out with perfect Jessica Ashford. What was I thinking, I didn't stand a chance. This opinion remained engrained in me even after I'd showered and put on clean clothes. I looked less like a monster, but someone who didn't know me would think I was at least two years younger.

Ellen was already waiting for me downstairs when I showed up in the kitchen, looking for food.

"Good morning," she said, beaming at me. I wondered if that was the kind of face a girl who got jiggy with it made.

"Morning," I grumbled.

Mom and dad were at the counter having cereal. They'd set a bowl for me and I thanked them, because I couldn't deal with making as big a decision as what to have for breakfast today.

"Great, now that we're all gathered here together, there's something I'd like to say." We all looked at my best friend like she was crazy.

As I poured Special K with chocolate on my bowl I asked her, "Is someone getting married here or what?"

She waved me off. "No, but I've been thinking." Uh-oh, this was dangerous every time. "Peyton's really making a positive impact on the team this year, and the team is looking pretty hot, so I'd like to write a special piece on them for the school newspaper."

Dad nodded in that way people do when they're dangerously close to getting the point, but still can't see it. "Okay?"

Ellen squirmed in excitement. "As in, I'd like to center the piece on Peyton's effect on the team."

I'd been pouring milk on my cereal, but my hand shook as I looked up and I made a mess. "What?" I asked her as I grabbed some paper napkins to clean it. "You want to make me the subject of your article?"

She nodded. "A trailblazing woman in a world of men. How incredible is that? With both of your permission, that is." She looked at both my dad and I and continued, "And of course I'd like to add this to my portfolio for my college applications. I think this could be my personal centerpiece."

My mouth unhinged. The way she said it made me sound like I was something special. Hah, joke was on her. If she'd seen me before my shower she'd take all of this back. I looked at my mom and her smile looked like it hurt. Dad didn't appear so happy, more like pensive. I was sure he'd say no and then I wouldn't have to tell my best friend how I thought she was crazy.

And then he said, "That's a good idea. It would also help Peyton for her applications. I like it."

My jaw dropped then. Ellen squealed and jumped on her feet. She gave my dad a quick hug, then mom, who hugged her back, and then me. I was just too stunned to react.

"Are you sure?" I asked while we were on our way to school in her car. "I mean, there's so much other stuff going on that you could write about."

"Like what?" She dared me.

"I don't know." I frowned, looking out the damp window. "How about the quality of Trojans?"

She laughed. "You know we didn't quite get there. But I don't really think writing about sex would get published in our paper, let alone get me into college."

I folded my arms and put on a mock angry face. "Oh, so you're doing this only to impress college recruiters?"

"Absolutely, because this is precisely the kind of thing that would impress them." She glanced at me from the corner of her eye. "Don't you get what you're doing? You're breaking a stereotype."

I smiled a little, and I had to admit that my chest suddenly filled with pride. I didn't feel like I'd done all that much aside from take notes and have what felt like constant fights with my dad. But it was way better than not being involved at all, and then, what would I have had to show for my college applications if I didn't put myself out there and did at least this much? I looked at my friend, unable to believe my luck. In helping herself, she was giving me a huge hand, too.

We walked into the school together, chatting about how this was going down. She'd follow me for a week at practice and at games, interview my dad, the guys and me. She'd snap a few pictures and video, to have both a print version and a two minute video of the article.

"I don't fare well on camera," I told her with a wince, patting my hair as I remembered how bright it looked like on our videos from the pee wees. She rolled her eyes and was about to say something when Chris and Anthony appeared. The former put his arm around Elle's shoulders and I swore she melted there and then.

"Good morning ladies, how do you fare?" Anthony asked, elbowing me. "I heard you're going to be famous."

Both Ellen and I gasped. To our surprise Chris apologized. "Sorry, I didn't know it was supposed to be a secret."

"No, it's okay," she told him and I snorted a laugh. She'd have been pissed if this was a big scoop and if the leaker were anyone other than her new boyfriend.

I realized that we were missing a certain someone. "Where's Santiago?"

Chris jutted out his chin to point at the entrance. "He said he wanted to drive his bike over today."

We all turned back and found him walking toward us, as if it didn't matter that he was soaked. I'd never met anyone stranger. The biggest problem was that his grey t-shirt was stuck to him like a second skin and if I could see every ridge of muscle on his shoulders and chest, anybody else could, too. I glanced around and sure enough, almost every girl he passed looked at him like he was a piece of candy to unwrap. I had to look down at my shoes, a scruffy pair of red Converse, because if I kept looking at him, trying to find all the details that made him look so delicious, I had a feeling the whole school would be able to see on my face just how much I wanted to be the one to unwrap him and eat him.

He reached us as soon as I'd pulled out my cell phone to look busy. "I thought it was going to be a light drizzle, not a monsoon."

Chris laughed. "You should've brought some shampoo on the way."

Anthony brought the elephant in the hallway up. "Well damn, I didn't know this morning was going to be a wet t-shirt contest kind of thing. You should've told me and I'd also have competed."

"You're gonna catch a cold and then you'll miss every single pitch in the game this afternoon," I said with a sigh.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, coach." Then he hooked his arm around my shoulder and steered me to class. "Let's go, we're gonna be late."

Ellen, bless her soul, had the discretion of a police car with sirens blaring. Her eyes widened to what looked like almost inhuman proportions, and she mouthed oh my God to anybody who paid attention. I probably looked just as discrete as I whispered at her to shut up.

This was the only weird thing of the day but I swore it fucked me up. Like, I couldn't stop thinking about it during class, at lunch or even as I was in the girls' locker room getting dressed for the game. I even paused, halfway dressed, and sat on the bench, looking at my locker and wondering if I was even right to think that it was not normal.

Okay so here was a fun tidbit about our friendship. I learned early in the day that most latin american people were pretty touchy feely. They had no problem with hugging, kissing and touching their friends and family all the time. It was the way they showed affection and closeness. I'd never had a problem with this because, in all honestly, even though I was whiter than paper I was exactly the same way. I smacked, touched, poked and hugged everybody. This had on occasion given me problems with Seb's girls, because they'd think we had a thing, since the PDA was always mutual — but the girls chilled when they realized it was never romantic. We acted like latino siblings.

With Santi... it was like I was the latina and he was the gringo. I've always been the one invading his bubble. He'd never, or almost never, stepped out of his bubble and into mine on his own.

I heard a snort next to me and turned to find Jessica Ashford in her underwear, looking down at me with folded arms. It forced her boobs together in a way I could guess drove boys wild.

I blinked up at her, hoping I didn't appear as impressed as I was. "What?"

She made a show of scanning me. Yeah, I probably looked a sight in my baseball pants and shoes and only a bra, but what was her deal?

"Here's what I don't get," she said, pointing at my chest. "It's not like you're hideous, but is that really all you can do? That's got to be the ugliest sports bra I've ever seen in my life."

I looked down at my grey Target bra, not giving a shit. "It's not like anyone's going to see it."

"No kidding, because if you keep wearing that kind of rag you're never gonna want to show it to anybody."

She turned around and before I could wonder if that was her version of advice, I said, "You're wearing a thong to cheerleading practice? Isn't that... too breezy?"

She glanced at me over her shoulder with a roll of her glacial eyes. "I wear shorts, too, idiot."

I finished getting dressed and got the hell out of there, before that conversation got any weirder. Fully dressed in baseball gear, cap and all, I looked down at myself wondering what was the point of wearing pretty underwear under something like this.

"Ready?"

I jumped about five feet. Santiago was standing in front of me, arms folded. He looked so fine in our school colors, like a freaking candy cane. I pursed my lips, because now was not the time to think about candy that you could suck.

I shifted mental gears and nodded, knowing exactly what he was talking about. We'd made a promise to Sebastian yesterday. "Ready. You?"

He shrugged one shoulder. "I'm just here for moral support and to win a game."

My cheeks worked my lips into a smile that I could feel in my toes. "Ohh, talk sexy to me, daddy."

He choked and I laughed. It was a weird attempt at lightening the mood, maybe, but what could I say. He had my mind in the gutter all the time these days. We walked together to the dugout and waited until everybody was there, including Ellen on reporter mode. The bleachers weren't totally empty, as I'd have expected. I had a feeling it was because of the short winning streak we had so far. The guys realized we were up to something when we kept standing next to each other looking at them. Dad shifted his eyes from Santi to me several times.

"What's up, guys?" he asked. That was my cue.

I took a step forward. "Before the game starts, Santi and I have something to say to you all."

Dad's face morphed into panic. "Peyton, I told you that-"

I lifted my palm up before he could continue that train of thought. He was probably thinking Santi and I were going to announce our marriage or something just as ridiculous. But this was serious. "Dad, please, let me speak." For once he complied. I put my hand down. It wanted to wring the other, and since I didn't want to appear nervous I just put both hands in my pockets. I found Ellen's face first, curious, with her phone trained on me. Not helping. I saw McCann, who looked bored to tears. Then I saw Chris; he had an uncertain little smile and waited for whatever I was going to say. I held on to his eyes like a crutch.

"Yesterday, Santiago and I went to visit Sebastian." That hushed every activity in the dugout. "It's been almost a year and, this may sound silly, but I was actually surprised that it had grown all green around him." I looked at my black cleat kick the sand. "I guess it was just another reminder that he's really gone, you know?"

I ventured a glance at them and could imagine that whatever they'd thought this was going to be about, it was not this. But I continued. "It had been too long since we last saw him, and we thought it'd be nice for him to know what we were up to. We told him that we have a new team." I paused and smiled, looking at the boys, especially the younger ones. "We told him about each one of you. Right, Santiago?"

I turned to him and he nodded. "It was a very long chat, you guys."

A few of them laughed a little. I turned back to them and zeroed in on my dad. His eyebrows were up, forehead wrinkled in worry. "We made him a promise." This definitely had all of their attention. "That we'd get to where he left off and win district for him."

Ellen gasped. I could feel a shift in the air at this, as if the electricity coursing through my body was traveling through the air to each one of them. Their bodies didn't look relaxed anymore, and while some looked fearful or disbelieving, most looked determined. "We promised him that we have the training and skills, the team, the coach-" I looked at my dad pointedly. "We promised him we could. What do you think?"

There was a lot of silence after that, to the point that it felt almost uncomfortable. Did I screw up by saying all this? Did this actually make them chicken out of trying?

And then to my shock, and maybe everybody else's, it was McCann who stood up first and said, "Yeah, we can do it."

I did a double take. My mouth did a lot of flapping.

He shrugged. "We're not bad and we have me, so what can I say."

That caused a few genuine laughs and someone shoved him a little. He grinned like an idiot, but that had been precisely what we'd needed.

Anthony clapped once, loudly. "Hell to the yeah, we got this. We're the Alligators, we're coming for the big bite of district!"

A round of yeahs chorused around the dugout, along with fist bumps and high fives.

Dad settled them down with a wave of his hands. He turned to me and said, "To answer your question, I think so too. We can win this. But you're forgetting something." I frowned and blinked a couple of times, confused as if this were a math test. "We can win this, too, because we have you in our team, and I have to admit you've made us better since you joined us."

That was it. Those were the words I'd been waiting my entire life to hear. To get his support and recognition. I could feel my chin tremble and my eyes mist over, and I tried to blink the feeling away.

Dad turned and clapped twice. "Alright everybody, you know what to do. We have a district to win and we won't accomplish that by losing today. C'mon, everybody in position."

As the guys rushed to the field for the coin toss, Santiago walked by me with a small smile. "Well done," he said.

I realized a minute later, as I watched him stand in line with the team and facing our opponent that Ellen was squealing right next to me with her camera trained on my face.

I groaned and put my hand on it. "Oh, stop it."

"I can't," she said. "This is finally starting to get interesting."