Page 7 of Home Field Advantage

“What’s that face?” Miguel asks suspiciously.

“What face? There is no face.” I take a long, noisy sip of my drink and arrange my features into the picture of innocence.

“There is absolutely a face. It was a little bit of a dreamy face, if I’m being honest. The kind of face that makes me wonder if someone was maybe thinking about the new QB for a second there.”

“You’re the one who just told me she’s a good quarterback,” I remind him, but I can tell that I’m blushing and he obviously can too.

“Oh my God. Loud McCloud has a crush on the new girl.”

“Loud McCloud does not crush on Atherton girls, thank you very much.”

Miguel waggles his thick eyebrows. “Hey, you didn’t think you’d hook up at cheer camp, either, and look what happened.”

If I could literally rip a smile off someone else’s face, I would. Instead, I go back to slurping at my coffee extra-hard and let my death glare do the talking.

“So that’s… three girls in a row now?” he continues asif I’m not trying to destroy his insides with the power of my retinas. “Interesting. Verrrry interesting.”

“I haven’t had enough of this coffee to deal with your biphobia, Santiago.”

He holds up his hands. “Hey, you’re the one who said you weren’t sure how you identify.”

“Yeah, and I’m still not. It’s not my fault Elliot Page won’t return my calls. Not that my sexuality matters in this case because—say it with me—I do not crush on Atherton girls.”

“‘I do not crush on Atherton girls,’” Miguel echoes like the smart-ass he is. “Normally I would point out that you’re totally self… what’s ‘cock-blocking’ when you don’t have a cock?”

I hate that I actually have an answer to this, thanks to Veronica. “Clam-jamming.”

Unfortunately for Miguel, he’d taken a sip of his drink, and he coughs it up so hard, he almost chokes. “That’s horrible.”

“I know, but anyway, you know you’re my one and only, boo. Even if you’re going behind my back with that skank.”

Miguel rolls his dark eyes. “I’m going to tell Malcolm you called him that.”

“Don’t you dare.” I love Miguel’s new boyfriend, but more than that, I love that Miguel has actually dipped back into dating again, even if he’s gotta keep it on the DL. Robbie’s blackmail bullshit destroyed his last relationship, and it took him being dead for a month for Miguel to work up the courage to use the phone number left for him by the cute boy who’d been hanging out around Miguel’s lifeguard stand all summer. Mal knows everything, from Robbie’s blackmail to our fauxmance, and he’s still sticking around, so as far as I’m concerned, he’s the perfect guy.

Honestly, bonus points if he truly is a little skanky. Miguel deserves it.

“Maybe someday we’ll go on a double date,” Miguel teases, and it’s my turn to roll my eyes.

“Yeah, right.” But now that he’s in a good mood, I can’t help shifting the conversation back to the question that’s been on my mind even more than the new QB’s arms. “You know I’m dying to be captain, right?”

“Literally everyone in a fifty-mile radius knows you’re dying to be captain, sweetheart.”

“Okay, well, I’m thinking that if I can be the one to bring the squad around to welcoming Jack into the fold, be the great harbinger of unity or whatever, that’s gotta make them see me as a leader, right? Especially if it means Atherton’s first winning season in forever?”

He sighs heavily, a sign that my last stab at this isn’t gonna go anywhere. “I guess, but the squad isn’t gonna get on board with her unless the team does, and I donotsee that happening anytime soon. Doesn’t help that she wasn’t around for two-a-days or clinic or anything. People keep talking like Tim put in the work and then got shafted. Never mind that he’s beengettinga shot to prove himself all summer, and he sucks.”

“They’re not seriously pretending they wish he was still QB, are they? I thought they were bordering on mutiny.”

“They were,andhe basically begged to be put out of his misery, but they’ll pretend it’s about anything other than that she’s a girl who’s better than Robbie ever was,” he says sourly, his fingers doing that nervous flicking thing they do when Robbie comes up.

“So, what do I do?” I ask. “How do I make them see that they’re being beyond stupid and blowing the first shot they’ve had in years of actually going somewhere?”

“Trust me,” says Miguel, “if I knew, I would’ve done it a hundred times already. I am not looking forward to a year of nauseating hero worship of the devilandanother losing streak.” He takes a long, noisy sip. “Please can we talk about something else?Anythingelse.”

Deeply unsatisfying as his responses have been, I get why he is capital-DDone talking about Robbie Oakes. Fortunately, our little Rainbow Alliance always has plenty else to discuss. “So, like, does this mean you’re finally ready to tell me about the magical one-month anniversary date? Because details on that were miiiighty stingy, my friend.”

Miguel looks around like he wishes he had something on hand to throw at me. “Ifyou’re ready to finally spill some salacious details about cheer camp.”

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