We lost the game, 13 to 3. The three runs that Santiago brought with a homer. That alone had such shocking power to the Trinity kids that they only managed to score two more runs after that before the game was called.

It was pretty pathetic, yet we celebrated as if we'd won the national championship. I felt like we were celebrating because the guys just hadn't known they had this much fight in them.

My dad was just as euphoric except for when I crossed his field of vision. He was all sour then. Chris and Anthony swung me like a hammock until I screamed myself hoarse and they dropped me on the mud like a sack of potatoes. My raincoat ceased being blood red then and took on a particular poop hue. I picked myself up with the grace of an overturned turtle. Santiago had been watching all along, not doing squat to help me out of the predicament because he'd been busy trying not to laugh. One of the guys jumped him with something like half a hug and half a headlock. This was followed by another guy's similar show of affection. Then another.

My job here was only beginning.

I climbed up the bleachers where I found Ellen furiously scribbling on her notepad. She ignored my attempts at sharing the love with her with a raised palm and a string of words that she tried to write down as fast as she could jot in longhand. I sat with her, both legs bouncing as I texted mom. I warned her, with a lot of cross bones, about the expected cold war tonight but how it had been totally worth it.

Your dad will come around. He can't stay mad at you for long, she texted me.

I begged to differ. He still gave me crap for having puked on his favorite t-shirt as a newborn.

"That," Ellen finally said, looking up with sparkling eyes. "Was incredible. I mean, we still overall sucked but maybe now there's hope?"

I nodded so fast that my head and neck seemed to have a conflict of interests for a moment. "I'll say!"

She gave me a hard slap in the back that I'm sure left her hand printed on my skin. "We should party!"

I laughed and hell yeah'ed her, until I realized she was serious.

"No, seriously. There's a party going on and some of the newspaper kids are there. I'm sure they'll want to know what happened here tonight."

The Alligators came out of the bench hooting and jumping. The few people remaining in the bleachers clapped them with all their hearts. Ellen and I stood up and whistled. A couple of them waved in our direction. Ellen made sure that we found them in the parking lot afterwards to propose her party idea. I realized then how much of a big deal our great loss had been when the entire team signed up to crash someone's party.

"You don't wanna come?" she asked me when we were already in her car, driving towards Goldenrod. "I mean, I still have time to turn around and take you home."

"No," I told her, sinking into the passenger's seat. "Come to think about it, dad won't be at this party so the chances of him killing me tonight decrease. Party time!"

She laughed. We stopped at a red light, five other cars full of Metropolitan kids behind us.

The roads glittered with the wetness from the rain, but they would dry soon enough. The night of the accident had been very similar. We'd all left a game, a huge win, off to party in a big house in Oviedo where Chris' cousin lived. There were going to be college girls, and I could not remember to have been suffocated by that much testosterone after such an announcement. Some twenty cars crammed full of horny teens had departed from the stadium downtown.

All but one reached the Oviedo house.

After the game had finished, I'd had to elbow my way through a crowd in order to reach the Mirandas. Sebastian had been laughing as two girls kissed his cheeks, one on each side, posing for a picture. In the background one of the back then seniors thumped Santi's back so hard he nearly lurched forward. I saw the picture on Instagram the next day, after the news had broken. I took a screenshot of it and saved it on my files.

"Guys," I had called out to them, as loud as I could. Somehow both of them heard me. "Are you going to the party?"

"You know it," Sebastian had said, winking at me. "Wanna ride with us?"

"No," Santiago had cut in then, approaching as he rubbed his shoulder. "I told you we need to talk."

"Oh, right."

"Okay," I had said then. "I'll see you there!"

I didn't. I stayed in the parking lot, chatting with people until we started to move towards the party. I got on my car after Seb and Santi got on theirs, but I left before they did and I arrived to the party when it was already in full swing. I remember that I had one shot, some nasty apple concoction that undoubtedly was brewed by a witch. I didn't even bother having more drinks after that, I was so buzzed. Two more games and we'd be state champions. We were on the verge of something incredible.

My most vivid memory of the night was the buzzing and ringtones. Suddenly everybody's phones seemed to go off at once. Mine too. I had like five messages from different people all at once asking if I was okay. Including my parents.

I had called my dad. He just told me he was at the hospital and that I should go join him.

Ellen and I grabbed an Uber together after that. I still didn't understand why I'd been summoned to the hospital or why my phone kept going off. My parents were fine. Ellen and I were fine. I just didn't get it until I did.

This time the party was not in some big mansion in Oviedo. The house was in a cul de sac far enough from the main road so that it was quiet. It was close to the corner in University Boulevard where the boys' car had been T-boned by a Dodge Ram.

Oh God, I didn't really feel like partying.

Ellen found us a spot by the curb where she parked her car and we got out. Groups of kids were walking into the house that even from our vantage looked crammed. I pulled my cellphone out from my jean pocket and texted Santiago.

We're at the party, you?

A second later he replied, ETA 5.

Ellen was busy texting some of her friends, so it didn't bother her that I discretely forced her to stay outside as I waited. Chris' red Jeep pulled up to the street. She looked up from the screen of her phone as if an invisible entity informed her that her crush was in da house. He jumped out of his car with Taylor, the third baseman, Anthony and Santiago.

My lungs seemed like they started working again.

"Okay, we can go in now," I said.

They joined us and we marched up the front lawn together. Bodak Yellow was playing so loud that the walls seemed to rattle. Anthony started bouncing with the rhythm. He was the first to find the table with snacks and booze and armed himself with a whole bag of Doritos that he did not share with anyone.

"Maybe we should have gone to eat first," I told whoever was next to me. It turned out to be Santiago.

"We'll always have McDonalds," he said. The left corner of his lips quirked up.

"Ha! That was actually funny." I bumped his arm. "Your sense of humor come back after a homer?"

He shrugged. "I'm just in a good mood."

"Hey, Santiago!" someone called him. I couldn't see whom but he did and turned around to join the source of the greeting. My arm was clutched viciously and I found myself staring down at a frantic Ellen.

"A cheerleader just took him."

"What?"

"A cheerleader just kidnapped Chris, what do I do?"

"I, uh..." I scratched my head. My hair was kind of damp from the rain, or the sweat. Maybe both. Strands of it stuck to my forehead and neck and with the crunch of people all around I did not expect to cool down any time soon. These were the things I focused on, because I had no idea what to say to her. "Maybe follow them?"

She shook my arm. "I'll look like an eager beaver."

"I've always thought that's part of your charm."

Ellen sighed and let her head fall back. "I'm barking up the wrong tree."

"Yep." An idea did occur to me, then. "Crazy notion, but what if you get some mentoring from the experts?"

Her attention returned to me. "I'm intrigued, tell me more."

Totally out of my depth here, I gave a strange laugh and said, "Well, if you want to learn how to, I don't know, be girly, why don't you ask a girly girl to teach you the ropes?"

She snapped her fingers. "You're a genius. A hopeless tomboy, but a genius non the less."

My jaw fell as she turned on her heels and left me standing there.

I looked around at mostly people I didn't know. Kim Gregory, one of the newspaper kids, was close by. I asked her if she'd seen the game and she politely heard me talk about it, until she bottomed her drink and went for a refill. Jackson Teller thanked me for getting him out of JV earlier and I had to tell him I didn't think the change was permanent until my dad made it so. He was curious about what I thought of his skills, and absolutely floored when I was able to recite stats and analyses on his performance and form. One of the other guys in the team approached then; he wanted to know about himself, too. I grinned. Now that I was back to my turf, I started to think that this party rocked.

At some point I got thirsty and headed to the kitchen for some water. I had to do a double take when I found Ellen fully engrossed in conversation with the cheerleader Santiago had been sucking face with before tryouts.

"Oh my God, Peyton," my best friend said, breathlessly. "You need to meet Gigi."

What kind of name was that?

The cheerleader recognized me. "You're Santiago's girlfriend non-girlfriend, right?"

I sputtered for a second. "Neighbor. Best friend will suffice."

"Five guys have asked her out in the course of the first two weeks of school." Ellen informed me. "If that's not talent, then I wouldn't know what it is if it danced naked in front of me doing the hellicopter."

I looked back at the cheerleader, resisting the urge to let my eyes wander up and down, even though I already knew that the hot pink dress that hugged her like a second skin had something to do with it. "Impressive."

She smiled, showing all her pearly whites. "I could teach you, too."

"I'm okay. All I need is some water right now."

Gigi laughed. "Well, you may not realize it right now but I'm sure deep down you're thirsty for more than just water."

I left them to laugh at me all they wanted and found a red cup that I filled to the brink with water from the fridge. I drank it in two big gulps.

"Seductive, as always."

The slimy voice made me shudder. Jared McCann sipped from a red cup a few paces away.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him, because honestly it was never a pleasant surprise to run into him.

"Celebrating our loss, like the rest of them."

I looked around. There were a couple of kids in a corner in the kitchen, so flush close to each other that I was sure they'd start making out in a second, if they hadn't already. The exit route was fully open, so I deemed it okay to stretch whatever conversation could be had with him for a polite minute more.

My eyebrows went up. "By yourself, in the kitchen?"

His smile sent a ringlet of gold hair tumbling down the middle of his forehead. "Never by myself, Peyton."

I put my hands up in the air and took a step back. "If you think you and I are going to— well, you're sorely mistaken."

"Jared," a girl purred behind me. It was a different cheerleader and I knew this because she was still wearing the uniform. She nestled herself in the crook of his arm, stretching on tip toes to kiss his jaw. "I'm back, baby. Where did we leave off?"

"Oh," I said, sighing in undiluted relief. I thought for a second that he'd been flirting with me or something.

He shot me an amused glance before lifting the girl by her hips onto the counter and settling between her legs. "Here," he said, diving in for an open mouthed kissed that any porn star would envy.

I filled my red cup again and looked at my phone. No messages, and it was already past midnight. I had pee wee league in the morning, so I probably should be getting home soon. I set around the ground level looking for Ellen and found her deep in conversation with Chris. Shit, I couldn't interrupt her. Maybe I had to find a different ride.

It seemed like half of the kids I knew who had a car had Ubered over, and the other half were too drunk to get anywhere near four wheels. I texted Santiago, asking him if he wanted to hire a car together, but he didn't reply. I couldn't see him anywhere in the living room. I went back to the kitchen, tried the back and front yards, and concluded I'd have to try room by room. I canvassed the lower level quickly with no sightings.

I stopped at the bottom of the stairs. A couple of guys sat midway, looking at some video on a cellphone. I could hear laughter coming from upstairs.

Okay, I told myself. I'd try upstairs and if I didn't find him I'd just go home by myself.

I didn't find him behind the first door, which turned out to be a bathroom. I did find him behind the second one I tried, a small storage room. I gripped the door handle with the strength of a sumo wrestler and said nothing. Both he and Jessica Ashford got a whiff of change in the air or something because they realized they had an audience and stopped. Their t-shirts were on the floor, and even though they'd stopped making out, Jessica did not move her hands away from his skin or his from her waist. My eyes locked on her lacy bra that seemed to struggle with containing her boobs. There had been many rumors going around that she'd had them done two years ago, but they looked very real to me.

"What do you want?"

I looked up at him and mirrored his annoyed expression. "Well, sorry to interrupt but you didn't reply to my text."

"I've been busy."

I looked at both of them up and down. "So I see."

Jessica smiled so sweetly I swear my teeth hurt. She bent down to pick up her shirt and put it on.

"This isn't over, Santiago," she said, grabbing him by the shoulders so he would bend down to her level. She kissed him. Chaste, compared to Jared downstairs. With just enough force to pull his lips softly. When she was done and he still had his eyes shut, she let out a twinkling laugh that snapped him awake. He looked hungry. Starved.

She looked smug.

"See you later, Peyton."

She sidestepped me and left with way more dignity than anyone else would show after being caught making out semi-naked in a closet.

I realized then that my mouth had been hanging open all along and snapped it shut. Santiago sighed and pulled out his phone, his t-shirt still on the floor. He ran his hand through his hair as he read my text. A smile stretched his lips. But I wouldn't have described it as such. It wasn't happy. It was deadly.

He opened his mouth but I beat him to it. "Jessica Ashford, really?"

Santiago stuffed his phone in his pocket then and finally retrieved his shirt. "Yes, really."

He tried to leave the room but I fully blocked his exit. His green eyes were positively criminal and I hoped mine looked equally murderous. "The queen bee of the mean girls, not to mention that she was with your brother?"

He leaned on the doorframe to drive the full force of his height over me. I didn't cower. "They weren't an item, and I'm not dead."

"If your standards for girls are based on the fact that you're not dead, then let me tell you, you need to raise them."

Santiago pushed me by the shoulders with enough strength that I had to step back. He followed out of the closet, leaving his hands on me for a moment longer. "Go home, Peyton, and don't worry about what or whom I do."

That made me gasp.

He left in the same direction Jessica had walked to.

I remained there for a few minutes until someone's giggle snapped me awake. Then I grabbed an Uber to McDonalds by myself.