“The game’s almost over.”

Eve eyes the scoreboard. “Four minutes in football is really half an hour. I can’t live without a hot beverage for another half hour.” That’s surprisingly accurate. “So do you want one or not?”

“I’m good.”

“Okay, be back.” She takes off up the stairs to the concession stand.

With just my thoughts and my chilling hot chocolate, I spot Rogan on the field again. He isn’t the tallest, but he still towers over most of the players and easily looks the best in those tight white pants. Muscular thighs, firm butt, strong calves—he’s every girl’s dream in a football uniform, especially his biceps and how they pull on the cinched sleeves of his jersey.

I’ve seen him in his football jersey for years now—all through middle school and last year—but he didn’t look this good. The work he put in this summer in the gym really shows—not just in the way he wears his uniform but in the way he carries himself. There’s confidence in his stride, in how he speaks to his teammates and his coaches. How he hangs on to the neckline of his pads, thoroughly immersed in the next play.

He’s changed so much.

“Are you going to the Point tonight?” a girl’s voice asks.

I’m about to turn around and answer when I realize the question wasn’t for me. “I’m not sure, are you?” another girl answers.

“Of course. I heard Jared Barnes and Mookie Willows are going to be there.”

Mookie. I roll my eyes. The guy is a man slut. Everyone knows about his postgame ritual of picking a girl and taking her to his special spot at the Point—the highest point in Port Snow, which overlooks the trees and town—only to hook up and then ditch her later.

“Do you know what I heard?” Another voice chimes in. “Rogan Knightly is supposed to make an appearance.”

My heart hammers in my chest as I hold my breath. Rogan is going to the Point? There’s only one thing that happens there . . . people make out and hook up. And if he’s going but didn’t invite me, it can only mean one thing: he didn’t like my kiss at all.

“Is he really?”

“Yup, and he’s single. So that means fair game.”

“Isn’t he a sophomore?”

“Yeah, but he isn’t built like one. He looks like he belongs in college.”

“He sure does. My brother works out with him sometimes and says he’s a beast in the gym. Can bench press almost more than Jared, who holds the top record.”

“I call dibs.” I’m tempted to whip around, see which harlot is staking claim, but I don’t want to be intrusive or look desperate, so I keep to myself.

The time on the scoreboard dwindles, and before I know it, there’s a minute left. I have no desire to sit here in the stands and listen to the girls behind me talk about Rogan, not after our kiss and our weird silence.

Standing abruptly from my seat, I down the rest of my hot chocolate and start up the stadium steps—and run into Eve, who’s clutching two paper to-go cups of hot chocolate, a wisp of her chestnut hair clinging to her glossy lips.

“I know you said you didn’t want one, but I thought you could use it anyway.” She eyes me for a second. “What’s wrong?”

Tears prickle at my eyes. There’s no use hiding it. Rushing up the steps and through the stadium, Eve close behind me, I throw away my empty cup and find a private space to talk, an alcove wedged between the players’ tunnel and the bathrooms.

“What’s wrong?” Eve asks again.

I don’t tiptoe around it. I can’t. “I like Rogan.”

A small smile crosses her lips as she takes a sip from her cup. “Okay, so what’s the problem?”

The crowd starts to cheer as the clock ticks down. “I don’t know what to do about it. Apparently he’s going to the Point tonight, and all these girls who were standing behind me want to hook up with him.”

Eve looks past my shoulder to the field. “Well, then intercept him before he can make up his mind. Give him a reason not to go.” She passes me a fresh hot chocolate and tugs on my hand. “Come on.”

“What are you doing?”

“We’re going down to the tunnel, and you’re going to invite him somewhere else.”

“Are you insane?” I try to stop her, but she’s really strong, and before I can protest, I’m walking down the stairs to the players’ tunnel. “He’s not going to want to listen—” The scoreboard blares, and the crowd goes wild as the announcer rattles off the score and the first preseason win for Port Snow.

“Better hurry up, or you’ll miss him.”

“I’m not going in the players’ tunnel. Only families are allowed in there.”

Eve stops in her tracks and turns toward me with a serious look on her face. “Listen here and listen good. I have watched you two for years, and if anyone belongs together, it’s you and Rogan. So don’t let me down.” She nudges me down the tunnel. “Now go, or else I am going to make your life a living hell by telling you I told you so every day for the rest of sophomore year.”

“What if he says no?”

“He won’t.” She gives me a nudge.

“But—”

She nods toward the tunnel. “They’re headed this way. Now or never. Do you want him going to the Point?” I shake my head, which spurs her on to give me another nudge. “Then get your butt down there. You can thank me later.”

With one last nudge, she takes off toward the parking lot, a skip in her step. Damn it.

Hot chocolate in hand, I contemplate bolting, as the click-clacking of cleats echoes toward me along with applause and cheers from family members.

I really don’t want Rogan to go off to the Point. I’m pretty sure that will destroy me, so I gather up all the courage I can muster and take a few steps into the tunnel, my eyes trained for number thirty-six.

Helmets are held at the waist, high fives are thrown around, and a parade of maroon comes traipsing down the tunnel while parents find their boys. I glance around for the Knightlys but don’t see them. Did they decide to wait since they have such a big group? I know they did that last year when Rogan was on the junior varsity team; they all met up outside the locker room instead. I remember, since I was with them. Now it almost feels weird that I’m not part of their group. Do they wonder where I am? Do they even care?

Nerves twist my stomach into tight knots as my heart and my brain go into an epic battle. Stay or go, stay or go?

My brain starts to win, and I’m about to turn when I catch sight of Rogan walking with one of his teammates, both laughing. Rogan’s brown hair is wet, his eye black is smudged down his face, and his white pants have green grass stains all over them.

He’s never looked sexier.

I grip my cup tightly, praying I don’t pop off the lid while I debate if I should call out to him or let him notice me. That’s if he notices me at all. He seems so immersed in his conversation that he very well might blow past me.

He closes the space between us, still focused on his teammate. There’s no way he’s going to see me, not with me blending in with the rest of the families. This was stupid. Really stupid.

I’m not staying here.

Slipping behind a cheering mom, I block myself from view and turn my back. If he wants to go to the Point, then that’s his decision.

I walk away, my heart splintering with each step. Eve is going to be disappointed, but maybe there’s a small chance I can salvage my friendship at some point with Rogan. It’s just going to take some time.

“Harper. Hey . . . Harper,” a voice calls out.

Wait, that’s Rogan.

I turn around to find him jogging up to me, helmet in hand and a confused look on his handsome face. “Hey, where are you going?”

Breath caught in my chest, I get lost in his captivating eyes as he steps in closer.

“Uh, I . . . umm, I don’t really know,” I answer, feeling dumb.

He glances behind him quickly before turning back to me. “Okay . . . well, I guess I’ll head back.” He turns away, and I squeeze my eyes shut in humiliation.

“Are you going to the Point tonight?” I ask before I can stop myself.

With confusion in those pretty blue eyes, his brow pinches together. “Where did you hear that?”

Oh God, is he angry?

Nervous, I twist my cup in my hand and look anywhere but him. “Just some girls who were in the stands behind me.”

“I see.” He’s silent for a second. “And why do you want to know?”

“I . . .” I clear my throat and glance up at him, my heart hammering in my chest. “I was hoping we could, you know . . . hang out tonight. But if you have plans to go to the Point and do . . . things, that’s fine. I just thought—”

“Snow Vale Manor? Meet me there in twenty minutes.” He tips my chin up, shocking me. “Thanks for coming to watch me play, Harp, it means a lot.”

“Uh, yeah.”

He walks backward, a smirk gracing his lips. “See you in a bit.” With a wink, he jogs off toward the locker room, leaving me in his wake, confused and excited.

CHAPTER SEVEN

ROGAN

There is no way in hell she’s here.

My family isn’t that cruel. Right?