“Yeah, sorry. I just got a lot on my mind.”

Quick as that, his irritation is replaced with concern. He stops being team captain and switches to friend mode. “You okay? What’s bugging ya?”

Peter rakes a hand through his damp, black hair, then nudges me with his shoulder. “Yeah, you seem offish today. What’s up?”

Scott and Peter are probably my closest friends at this school. I use the termfriendsloosely because both of them can be real dicks sometimes, but I know they always have my back. I could tell them what’s bugging me, but I don’t like to share too much of my personal life with anyone. Instead, I search my mind for the most plausible excuse. “So, you remember that girl Amy I met on that dating app? Turns out she has a boyfriend. She was only chatting to me because she wanted aricherboyfriend.”

“I knew it,” Peter sneers. “Didn’t I warn you about her, Dylan?”

“You did.”

Scott stops walking and narrows his eyes at me. “Are you serious right now?”

I stop too, not understanding why he’s so upset. If anyone should be angry, it’s me. I was the one who was manipulated and lied to. “Yeah. What’s the problem?”

“Are you telling me you dragged Pete and I all the way across town to that dingy diner last weekend for a fuckingwaitressand you didn’t even bother to find out if she was single?”

Granted, Scott has some good qualities (like six or seven), but he can be such a pretentious asshole sometimes. He gets angry and aggressive about stupid things when it’s not warranted.

“Can you calm down? You’re overreacting. It’s not like it killed you. It was forty-five minutes of your life.”

“It’s forty-five minutes of my life I can never take back, Dylan!”

I hear more regret than anger in his voice and it confuses me even more, but I’m too tired to analyze it and carry on walking back to the locker room without saying another word to him. My mind is still off in the distance somewhere as I shower, but my brain starts to take in the conversations around me as I change. I pull my T-shirt on first to cover the scar across my left ribs because it’s long enough to draw attention, and I don’t like people asking questions about it.

“It doesn’t hurt anyone if she doesn’t find out,” Steven comments dryly.

“You’re just being greedy,” Kyle argues. “Shelby is the sweetest person I have ever met. She volunteers at an animal shelter and a homeless shelter, and she sings in the church choir. Do you know how hard it is to find a girl like that? You have no business cheating on her.”

“You can’t limit yourself to one woman at this age,” Peter adds. “It doesn’t matter how sweet she is.”

Steven nods his agreement. “Pete’s right. Let me explain it to you like this. There are two kinds of girls. Those who drop to their knees to worship the Lord and those who drop to their knees and make you feel like a God. Personally, I’m for type A. That’s wifey material, but those girls are either virgins who are waiting for that special guy, or they’re boring in bed. Now, if you’re looking to get your dick sucked or you want wild, out-of-this-world sex, then you go for type B—girls like Lana and Isabella. Type B girls are only good for one thing, so it’s our civildutyto help them reach their full potential in thatonething.”

These kinds of discussions are constant in the locker room. I have nothing to contribute, so I tend to ignore them, but I’m finding it a little hard today because the way Steven is talking about her is grinding my nerves raw.

“So, you’d give up a good thing for a good time?” Kyle asks. “I still don’t think it’s worth it.”

“That’s because you don’t know what you’re missing out on. Kyle, the lips on this girl, the tits on this girl are like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. Trust me, just give it a try. Just flirt with her a little and she’ll give it up. It’s that easy. Anyone can do it. The only person who can’t get it right with her is Dylan over here. He flirts with her every morning and still can’t get into her panties.”

My hands instantly ball into fists. “Shut the fuck up, Steve!”

“Chill, D. We’re just messing with you.” He throws his head back and laughs. “We know that you’re all in for type A. You like the sweet girls, too. Leave the slutty ones for me and Kyle. He’ll give Isabella a go on your behalf, and we’ll tell you how it goes.”

“Nah, I’ll pass,” Kyle says. “I prefer a bit of a challenge.”

“Then maybe you should try your luck with her sister. She seems like the type that will make you work for it.”

“Where is she, anyway?” Peter asks. “She hasn’t been at school for over a week now. I kinda miss watching her run off crying.”

“Don’t be a dick, Peter!” I snap. “The way you and Scott treat her isappalling. And I can’t believe you guys laugh about it. It’s not funny!”

“Geez, Dyl. You need to get bigger panties. The one you’re wearing is cutting off your blood circulation and making you moody as fuck. We’re just having a little fun with her. No harm done.”

“I’d like to have a little fun with her,” Steven says. “I find the quiet ones very intriguing. I bet she’s a freak in bed. When she comes back to school, I think I’m gonna?”

“You’re gonna do what exactly?” Scott asks from beside me.

Well, this just got interesting. I don’t know when Scott got involved in the conversation, but the look in his blue eyes is menacing. Adhering to the arbitrary unwritten rules here at Loughlin is not something I do, but there is one rule even I don’t have the balls to break. No one is allowed anywhere near Catalina Diaz. According to Scott, she’s a pariah, the lowest form of scum at the very bottom of this social hierarchy he’s created. A rat, he calls her. He’s made this assessment based purely on the fact that they’re not as wealthy as the rest of us, and as Bella pointed out—not white. It’s so stupid, but that’s the one rule I follow. I subtly try to keep him away from her, but I do it without speaking to her directly because we all know that is the quickest way to make Scott lose his shit.