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all in. A girl with curly red hair strolled by with her friends and shot Megan a curious but not unfriendly smile.
    Here I am again, Megan thought. New town. New school. Surrounded by thousands of new people. She could either let it break her or she could make the best of it.
    With a rush of sudden confidence, Megan squared her shoulders. She had done this before, many times. Of course, back then her parents had always been there to rally her when she got home from a bad first day, but she was older now. She could take care of herself. Megan turned on her heel and walked into the office. It was living with seven boys that was going to be challenging. A new school was a piece of cake.
    Â *  *  *
    The cafeteria was always the low point. At least in class everyone was all mixed up. Best friends were without their wingmen, cliques without their centers. But in the caf, it all came together. Everyone huddled at their predetermined tables and the new kid was more conspicuous than ever.
    Megan walked into the Baker High cafeteria armed with this knowledge and loaded down with more textbooks than any human or pack mule should ever have to carry. Her locker was on the opposite side of the building from every one of her classes, so she hadn’t had time to drop anything off. Her mind was spinning with the names of teachers and their assignments, and she was starting to realize that she might really have to bring all this stuff home every single day.
    Megan paused near the door and looked around. A few girls had introduced themselves that morning, but no one had made enough conversation to merit crashing their lunch table, and she certainly was not going to horn in on Doug, Finn, or Evan.
    She was relieved when she saw that just off the bustling minefield of the standard-issue, double-long tables was a quiet little courtyard dotted with old picnic tables and crooked benches. Only a few random loners sat out there, away from the crowd. It was Megan’s utopia.
    After choosing a safe-looking deli sandwich, a bag of chips, and a soda from the lunch line, Megan backed through the courtyard door and dropped down at the first empty table.
    Shoulders slumped, brain tired, Megan slowly unwrapped her sandwich. All she had to do was get through a couple more classes and then she would be on the soccer field, where she really belonged. She only hoped that the secretary had been right this morning when she’d told Megan that the teams were still taking new-student walk-ons. Betsy didn’t seem to be entirely certain about anything except the fact that she was smarter than Megan and everyone else in the room. She had sighed whenever anyone had asked her a question, as if they should already know the answer, but then it had taken her ten minutes to look up the proper response.
    â€œAh! Here it is!” she had announced, pulling a slip of paper from a folder on her desk. “Coach Leonard is the coach of the girls’ soccer team. The team has been practicing since August 20, but new students are welcome to try out. New students should report to the soccer field behind the school on the first day of classes for a tryout.”
    She lowered her glasses and looked at Megan smugly. “Hope you brought some sneakers with you, dear.”
    â€œNever leave home without ’em,” Megan replied, patting her backpack.
    Now her cleats were tied to the hook strap on her bag to make more room for her many books. She wondered if any of the girls from the team had noticed this in the halls—if they knew she would be coming to practice. She glanced through the window wall into the cafeteria, trying to pick out the girls on the team. Were they any good? Were they too good for her to make it?
    Megan had a sudden itch for one of her father’s patented pep talks. Too bad he’s a few thousand miles away, she thought, swallowing hard. She was not going to think about her parents. There were a couple more hours to