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lips split into a smile. “Some Skyhawk training.”
    “Then I’ll see you next week, Captain?”
    Josh drops his arms and goes from strict anti-Trojan kid to a regular six-year-old bouncing on his feet. “Really? You’ll play with us again?”
    “If it’s all right with Sam.” I give her a short glance again because I know if I give her anything longer than that I’ll be tempted to continue what we stopped in the wood chips—even in front of her brother. She opens her red lips to say something, but Josh cuts her off.
    “I’m the captain, and I say be here at eight a.m. No excuses, unless you want to run laps.”
    “Yes, sir.” I straight back salute him while Sam stifles a laugh.
    He nods and goes to take Sam’s hand, but stops midair. “Wait… unless this is a trick.”
    “Huh?”
    His brow furrows again, and he jabs me with his finger. “Is this a big plan for you to bring a bunch of Trojans in? Take over our field?”
    “No tricks, man,” I say with my hands up. “I need training. I think you could get me in shape.”
    “Even if that’s true, I’m not sure if I should believe a Trojan.”
    “Hmm…” I pull my hoodie from the crook of my arm and hold it out. “How about you take this?”
    He wrinkles his nose. “What would I want with that?”
    I laugh. “It’s leverage.”
    “What’s ‘leverage’ mean?”
    I crouch back to his level, keeping my hoodie in my fist. “It means if I come to the field with any Trojans, you get to do whatever you want to this.” I lift my sweatshirt. “And I’m pretty attached to it. So I wouldn’t want anything to happen.”
    “So… you won’t bring any Trojans here because you don’t want me to ruin that?” He points to my hoodie.
    “Exactly.”
    He tilts his head to the side and swipes the sweatshirt from my hand. “Then I’ll take the…leverage.”
    I stand back up, and Sam must’ve moved closer. My whole arm feels her body heat even though we aren’t touching.
    “Okay, Josh, if you’re done questioning Tyler we should get going.”
    Josh nods. “Good call, sis. I’m starving.”
    I walk with them to her car, and Sam opens the back door for her brother. “Give me two seconds then we’ll go.”
    He sighs. “You say two seconds, and you mean twenty minutes.”
    She gives him a little shove toward the car. He throws my hoodie over his shoulder and hops into his booster—which I’m assuming he only needs because he’s so short. She leans in to make sure he’s buckled while he traces his fingers over the Trojan’s logo with a thoughtful expression. I am fond of that hoodie. I really hope he’s not thinking of burning it or something. When Sam shuts the car door and looks back at me, we wait for about twenty seconds before saying anything because our track record for that kid breaking the mood has been Josh: 3 Us: 0.
    “Sorry about that.” She leans against the hood of the car with me. “He’s a born and raised Skyhawk.”
    “You don’t say,” I tease, and she nudges my shoulder. Guess it’s time to figure out where she stands on the whole rivalry thing. “What about you?”
    “Born and raised Skyhawk.”
    I raise my hand. “Born and raised Trojan, here.”
    “What?” Her mouth pops open in mock shock. “You mean when I saw you in that golden yellow uniform that meant you’re a Trojan ?”
    My face gets closer to hers. “Is it going to be a problem?”
    It looks like she wants to keep joking, but her gaze drops to my lips, and her breathing changes. I force myself to stay cool, but I’m not sure if I succeed.
    “I’m not into labels. Just don’t tell my cousin that,” she says, and then her hand snakes into her back pocket. She flicks her wicked eyes up to mine. Her fingers curl around my wrist, and she pulls my arm straight out toward her.
    “Wha…?”
    “Look what I found in the car,” she says, tapping a black Sharpie on the bridge of my nose. She bites the cap off and brings the cold, wet tip to the crook