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of him.”
    She flashed him an exasperated look. “My problem. I’ll handle it.”
    “Be careful. He’s not a nice guy. Look, I got to go. Coach hates us being late.”
    “See you later,” she called as he jogged off.
    He turned, pedaled backward. “Count on it.”
    Morgan sat on the half wall near the staircase to think.
Roth
. The boy with the full sensitive lips and startling blue eyes. The boy who made her pulse go crazy and her palms sweat when he stared at her. She was pathetic. Suddenly his attention toward her made sense—he was probably watching her for a reason. But why? What had she ever done to tee him off enough to make him pull such a prank?
    The image of his goth friend, Liza Sandiski, flashed through Morgan’s mind. Grunge-looking Liza with so much hardware in her face that she’d set off metal detectors. She and Morgan once had a run-in, during last year’s student council campaign. Morgan had bravely (to her way of thinking) approached the group of goth girls in the halls to pass out her “Vote for Morgan” literature. Liza had taken the flyer, stepped closer and torn it into small piecesright in Morgan’s face. “I’m not voting,” Liza had said. “No one running I like.”
    Everyone had laughed and sauntered away while Morgan stood feeling humiliated. Had Liza put Roth up to the fireworks prank? And if Liza had asked, would he have done it? Morgan grew agitated. If it was true, she wanted to know. Hadn’t she sworn not to let the perpetrators get away with it? She grabbed her book bag and made a dash for the parking lot. She needed to get started on homework before Trent arrived. And if Trent’s report was true, she needed to figure out how to best handle Roth and maybe Liza too.
    Kelli sat cross-legged on the gym bleachers, staring at a history book but waiting for the football team to come through the doors from the locker room. Practice was over, so they had to come out this way once they showered and changed. They had to pass through the gym to get out of school and into the parking lot. Sooner or later, Mark had to come out where she could talk to him.
    Three weeks had passed since she’d been hurt, and she had yet to pin him down for a serious talk. Her texts went mostly unanswered, or minimally answered, things like “ GOT 2 RUN ” or “ PLEZ NOT NOW. ” If she caught him in the halls, it was the same story. If she called his cell, he didn’t pick up. Today was the day she was determined to corner him. She was desperate.
    The locker-room doors slammed open and the team poured out, talking, laughing. Kelli looked up, waitinguntil the flow turned into a trickle. For a moment she thought he’d known she was waiting and had slipped away. But the stragglers came out, among them Trent and Mark. Kelli shot off the bleachers and rushed up to Mark, saying, “We need to talk.”
    He gave her a deer-in-the-headlights look. “Uh–I can’t now.”
    “Yes, you can,” Kelli said. “You owe me.”
    Mark glanced at Trent, who shrugged. “I’ll wait in the car.”
    He must have driven them both to school today.
    “Wait—”
    “Now,” Kelli insisted.
    Mark got a defeated hangdog look and nodded. He followed her to the hard wooden bleachers, sat gingerly, stared at the floor.
    “Why are you avoiding me? You know what’s happening.”
    “I’m not avoiding you. It’s just that we already talked this out. I won’t change my mind.”
    Tears of frustration sprang to Kelli’s eyes. “You can’t do this to me! It’s not fair.”
    He looked up, his expression tortured. “I know. I’m a jerk. But you know how I feel, Kelli. I’ve wanted to play ball all my life, ever since Pop Warner. I’m good. Coach has college coaches calling about me. A full ride, Kelli, at almost any university in the Midwest. My folks can’t send me to college. Dad hasn’t worked steady in two years. This is my chance.”
    “And what about my chances?” she cried. Tears were streaming down her