The late afternoon bell rings, marking the end of another school day. I gather my books, shove them into my denim backpack, and carry both it and my dark green duffle bag. Heading toward the locker room for baseball practice, I can sense the hallways buzzing with chatter, but my mind is focused on the field.

Baseball practice is my sanctuary.

The crack of the bat, the thud of the ball in my glove, the smell of freshly cut grass—it's all I need to clear my head. As I step onto the field and onto the mound, I feel a familiar rush of adrenaline. I stretch my arm, feeling the muscles tense and release, ready to give it my all. My favorite leather mitt clutches perfectly in my left hand, as I pad the right until further notice.

Coach Thompson soon calls us in for a quick pep talk. Spotting Noah and Leo, I listen to what the coach has to say. Coach T is a burly guy with a booming voice that commands respect. "Alright, team, great practice yesterday. We won against Ridgetown. Let's keep that momentum going. Slater, I want to see those curveballs sharper today."

"You got it, Coach," I say.

After he mentions and instructs what he wants from his batters and linemen, he ends the talk and signals us to get back to position. I jog back to the mound.

I go through my warm-ups, throwing fastballs, sliders, and curveballs. Each pitch feels more precise than the last. The satisfying smack of the ball hitting the catcher's mitt tells me I'm in the zone. After a few more rounds, while hearing Coach Garrel, the pitching coach, pushes me to angle a bit better.

After practice, the guys and I hit the showers. The locker room is filled with the usual banter and laughter regarding what happened and some interesting stuff that was caught live on YouTube. I notice Noah, who smirks at me. He is already at his locker and quickly flashes a notecard with some words.

"What is that?"

"You'll see."

"Meaning what?"

"Check your locker," Noah states as he quickly gets his stuff ready. "See you at the meeting." He smirks as he walks out.

As I finish getting myself ready back into my street clothes, I soon notice a note stuck to the top of my locker. Curious, I see the ivory felt paper, peeling it off, I look around quickly. Sitting on the narrow bench, I begin to read.

Fellow Legacy, the meeting starts in minutes. Find us in the back.

A jolt of excitement and nerves hits me. This is it—the clandestine meeting to assign the dare for the Bayman King competition. Noticing Noah already went to the back, I quickly finish up and head toward the back of the locker room.

The place is damp and dimly lit, the echo of dripping water and the faint smell of old sweat creating an atmosphere of secrets and teenage mischief. As I turn the corner, I see a group of guys waiting. Riley Bishop is there, standing tall and broad-shouldered, a smug grin plastered on his face. Next to him are Noah, Brett (tall and lean with an easy smile), along with six other juniors including Oliver.

Riley claps a hand on my shoulder, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Glad you could make it, thought you were lost."

"Yeah, Riley, I got lost, but I found my way," I retort, trying to make him look confused. My heart pounds in my chest. This is the moment I've been waiting for—the first step in proving myself worthy of the Bayman King title.

We all gather around a rickety table, each grabbing a chair. Just then, a group of senior legacies enter. I see Bryant, Joshua, Alistar, and Tristian, a couple of them from the baseball team. They must be the Senior Judges. Soon the main guy appears...Zach Calver.

Zach is the current Bayman King. He exudes effortless cool with his chiseled dark brown face, bald faded hair, and piercing brown eyes. Last spring, he had to streak across the school every weekend and shout the Bayman Alma Mater repeatedly every four times.

Bayman Alma Mater:

From roots that run deep, a legacy bold, Bayman High, your story unfolds. Our Lion hearts, with courage they beat, On pathways of learning, our futures we meet. The pride of the Lions, a spirit so grand, United in purpose, hand in hand. Through triumphs and trials, our loyalty stays, Bayman High, through all of our days. So roar, mighty Lions, with voices so clear, Our alma mater, forever held dear. To the future we stride, with strength and with grace, Bayman High, our cherished place.

It was insane, but he owned it and won the crown. Zach lets us junior legacies know our time is about to come and reminds us that the dares are just tests to prove the man we can be at the end. He soon instructs some of the senior judges to pass out a group of tiny, folded paper slips.

"Alright, guys, what's coming your way is the main reason we are all here today. Inside those slips are your dares. Remember, you've got until the end of junior prom to complete them. No backing out."

As each of us holds their respective paper slip, my hands tremble slightly as I take one and hold it nervously.

"Whenever you guys are ready. One by one, announce to the others your dares," Zach instructs us.

As the round begins, one by one...each of us juniors announces their respective dare. Oliver mentions his dare is about dedicating every game he must attend and going all-out with school spirit in a unique and over-the-top way that hasn't been seen before. Brett mentions his dare has him going into three different extracurricular clubs and being very supportive between each group.

Noah mentions his dare has him anonymously leaving small, positive notes or gestures for at least twelve different students from various cliques who you don't regularly interact with. While Riley smirks, a glint of anticipation in his eyes, he goes on to reveal his dare is centered on Principal Sinclair, requiring him to shadow the principal and embarrass him about seven times, each time having to be different and impulsive.

While five other members go, I wait until my turn. And as my nerves grow, I notice the seniors and my fellow junior legacies staring back at me, awaiting my dare. From what I would want to see happen, I pray it involves some sort of music. However, as I carefully unfold my slip, the words printed on the ivory paper seem to leap out, almost mocking me.

Befriend Kooky Abbie for the whole semester.

I blink, the words swimming before my eyes. "Abigail Perez? The... astronomy girl?"

A wave of disbelieving laughter ripples through the group. Riley is practically giddy across from me, a wide, entertained grin splitting his face. I barely register their amusement. My mind is stuck on those two words: befriend Abigail. And then Zach's voice, closer now, confirms my worst fears.

"Yep!" Zach says as he walks close to me. "You've got to be her friend. Not just pretend but really be her friend. Hang out with her, spend time with her, the whole deal."

A wave of disbelief and frustration washes over me. Abigail Perez has always been the school's resident weirdo, obsessed with those darn planets and stars, always talking to herself and mapping constellations in her notebook.

Befriending her is social suicide.

"But why her?" I ask, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice.

Zach steps forward, his expression serious. "Because it's a real challenge, Wilcox. This isn't about easy pranks or skipping school. This is about stepping out of your comfort zone."

The other guys still can't stop their chuckling, and I feel my face flush with anger and embarrassment. This is not what I signed up for. But I can't back out now. The Bayman King title is on the line, and I can't let my family down.

"Fine..." I say it through gritted teeth. "I'll do it."

"Good!" Riley says, patting me on the back, his laughter still bubbling beneath the surface. "Remember, the dare starts now, gentlemen." As he briefly looks to his fellow senior judges, Zach then turns back to all of us. "You've got until the end of junior prom. Don't mess it up."

While most of the other legacies are nodding and settling with their dares, I reluctantly nod, forcing a smile, though inside I'm screaming. I can barely listen half-heartedly to what Noah is trying to whisper to me, still reeling from my dare. Those other dares involving pranking the principal, organizing a flash mob, trying to be part of different cliques, and other stuff all seem so much easier than mine.

"Good luck, guys," Zach looks on and somehow starts right at me. "Some of you guys are going to need it." His nod feels like a direct challenge.

As he adjourns the meeting, we all begin to depart the room. Noah does his best to try and catch up with me.

"Can't believe you got to do it. Befriend Kooky Abbie." He whispers, trying to stifle a laugh.

"Please don't repeat that," I groan. I can't bear listening to those words. It's already piercing my mind like nails on a chalkboard. I still spot Riley reeling from this misery I'm going to have. And as I turn quickly to see Zach, as he chats with some of the fellow junior legacies and the senior judges, he turns back to me and just simply nods.

Complete it, no turning back.

***

My mind has been spinning for hours. This dare could ruin everything. I think about Ethan and his ridiculous karaoke dare. He took it head-on and won. Can I really do the same with this?

I rush home to my room. It's my haven—baseball posters plastered on the walls, trophies lining the shelves, and my prized poster of Jered Weaver hanging above my bed. I collapse onto my bed, staring up at the poster.

"Hey, Jered," I mumble, feeling like an idiot but needing the comfort. "Got a tough one this time. Befriending Kooky Abbie? Seriously?"

I lie there, contemplating my next move. My phone buzzes with a text from Lily:

How was practice?

Good, I reply. We need to talk.

She replies with a heart emoji, and I feel a tiny bit better. But the weight of the dare still looms over me. I get ready for bed, my mind racing with plans and worries. As I drift off to sleep, I know one thing for sure. This semester is going to be anything but ordinary.