Clay’s eyes narrow, a fire lighting inside.

“You’re bland and repressed, boring and bitchy.” I grin. “Good thing is, rich or not, those things can be fixed.”

Her own words thrown back at her from when she wrote on me in Sharpie and the knowledge that I’ll have a good-fucking-time with anyone but her makes her eyes turn red. She growls, shoving me in the chest, and I laugh, fisting her shirt and dragging her down to the grass with me.

We roll, whistles sound, and the crowd goes wild, the showdown they expected by two rival teams taking a twist they didn’t expect.

“Oh, you wanna be on top, huh?” I tease, Clay straddling me.

She screams, more pissed off, and I just laugh, barely noticing all the arms trying to pull us apart.

I YANK MY rubber band out, letting my hair loose as I rub my scalp where she tried to pull my hair.

“Krisjen?” Coach yells. “Amy?”

Both of my friends stand in the hotel room, muddy cleats in hand and their ponytails hanging by a prayer.

I glare at Liv, watching her stand there all calm, relaxed, and bored across the room, like this is all just a waste of her time. Like she barely knows I exist. Bitch.

I fold my arms over my chest, the tension like an electrical current. I’m going to kill her. Thank God my parents decided to not come tonight.

Coomer’s eyes dart between Liv and me as she speaks to Amy and Krisjen. “Shower in Audrey’s room and take everything you need,” she orders them. “You won’t be back for a while.”

Amy hesitates for a moment, pressed into a quick decision at a moment’s notice about what outfit to grab, or all the makeup she’ll need tonight, but then she sees Krisjen just grab her whole overnight bag and backpack, and she does the same. Taking all their gear, hands full, they leave the room, their shit banging against the door as they go.

This is bullshit. I glare at Jaeger. She did this on purpose. Must’ve been a hoot when she’d found out the coach benched me. She just had to come back to see that, didn’t she? And what did it get us? A forfeited game for unsportsmanlike conduct. She fucked us and got the last laugh.

But just as the door closes behind Krisjen and Amy, and I brace myself for some useless lecture, Coach turns and immediately follows the girls, leaving Liv and me.

“Wait!” I step toward her. “What are you doing?”

Liv stays rooted by the window.

Coomer turns her head over her shoulder, pulling open the door. “Sort it out,” she tells us. “I don’t care how you do it or if it takes all night, but you’re roomies now, so take all the time you need.”

“Are you kidding?” I burst out.

No fucking way. I can’t…

Not all night. The team is supposed to go out.

My stomach drops, and I barely hear the coach tell us, “You’re both eighteen now. Don’t test me on how much worse the consequences get from here on out regarding assault. Do not leave this room.” And then she points to Liv. “You’re still a student.”

Which means, she can still tell Liv what to do, considering this is a school-sanctioned trip, and her family would assume she was in a teacher’s care. Legal adult or not, Coomer’s responsible for us.

Coach slams the door, and I watch Liv swipe her cell phone from the bed. She dials, holding the phone to her ear as she digs in a bag Krisjen left, taking out a change of clothes.

I hear someone talk in Liv’s ear, and then she says. “Come to Cross and get me.” She snatches jeans, a bra, and a tank top from the bag. “I’m at the Marriott.”

I shake my head. “Yeah, by all means,” I tell her. “Get expelled and solve all our problems.”

I mean, technically, a whole stadium saw me attack her, so no one would fault her for refusing to stay locked in this room with me. She has every right to leave.

She almost looks at me, but casts her eyes back to her task. “Trace?” she says, trying to get her brother’s attention.

“She’s not joking, Liv!” I yell. “She’ll expel us for that stunt on the field just now! We can’t leave!”

Her eyes finally flash to mine, but only for a second. Her brother says something.

“You just want to see me suffer,” she tells him.

“No, I want you to get our fucking flag back!” he shouts.

And she pulls the phone away from her ear and stares at it for a second before tossing it on the bed. He hung up on her.

I almost smile. In her rush to leave Marymount and prove something to us, she’d forgotten about that.

“I doubt you can hide an expulsion from Dartmouth,” I remind her, content that no one is coming to pick her up.

She brushes past me, carrying her clothes. “What do you care?”

“I don’t,” I fire back. “I care about the team, and as much as it pisses me off, you’re the only one who can seem to perform up to a standard, so let’s get each other past this so you can come back to school, back to the team, and we can finish the year out amicably before we never have to see each other again.”

“I’m not going back to that school.”

And then she disappears into the bathroom, slamming and locking the door.

I stand there, still in my uniform, cold and covered in dirt and grass from the fight.

I reach out, putting my palm on the door. “And the play?” I ask, knowing that graduating from a top-notch prep school wasn’t the only thing keeping her at Marymount. We have the funds for the arts, unlike a lot of the public schools. “I hear you’re Callum’s understudy. The possibility of a major role? What you’ve been waiting for? Is she really more important than all the things you used to want?”

She’s silent for a moment, and then I hear, “Who?”

I pull my head up, staring through the door. “Don’t waste my time. I’m smarter than you think.”

It takes a few seconds, but the door swings open and Liv stands there in some faded black skinny jeans, white top, and her hair loose and looking like it hasn’t been combed in days.

“Martelle?” she asks, looking almost amused.

I back up a little, thankful for her calm tone for once. “It makes it easier, not being at school, doesn’t it?” I point out. “You both won’t be tempted to meet. You can keep your hookups secret. She can keep her job.”

Liv blinks, and then something crosses her eyes.

Laughter.

“Um, yeah.” She nods. “You nailed it.” She steps into the room, walking to the bed and putting her dirty clothes in the duffel bag. “She thought it would be best. It was just too hard, not wanting each other all the time, you know?”

I lean against the door to the room, watching her. “You’re still a student.”

“As everyone likes to remind me.”

“And I can still have her fired.”

She laughs under her breath, still tending to her bag and not sparing me eye contact. “Well, that would be one way to ensure I never return to Marymount, Clay.”

Son of a bitch. I shoot out and kick the lamp on the little table next to the couch. It crashes to the ground, the shade popping off, the bulb shattering, and the room dims. “Well, go, then!” I growl, blinking through the tears in my eyes. “Just go! I didn’t ask you to come back for this game!”