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My brows furrow when I see Delaney and Amber walking back to the tent instead of running.

“Why are they walking? Can’t they see their friend is in trouble?” Tammi shouts pissed.

But the second I spot their empty hands, I know why.

They didn’t find Sydney’s purse.

“The ambulance said they’ll be here in two minutes,” Mrs. Trott says nervously, with her phone to her ear.

As if on cue, Sienna stops her compressions to check Sydney’s pulse. Her shoulders sag as she places Sydney’s arm back over her chest.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. She’s dead.”

Chapter 14

Fairhope, September 13, 2013

Friday night in Fairhope means one thing—Football.

With nowhere else to go and nothing better to do, it feels like half the town has crammed itself into the bleachers of Fairhope High to watch the Falcons take on the Birchwood Bears.

The air practically vibrates with excitement. Students pack the rows around us, shouting back and forth over the marching band while parents yell encouragement from behind. Along the sidelines, the cheerleaders dance to the music, pom-poms flashing beneath the field lights, and every few seconds, someone stomps their feet against the metal bleachers, setting off another thunderous round of banging.

The smell of popcorn, hot dogs, and fried food drifts up from the concession stand, mixing with the cool September air. And down on the field, players in blue and white line up for the next play while the bleachers erupt into yet another deafening chant.

Everyone is excited to be here to watch the first game of the season. Everyone except my best friend, that is.

“Mind explaining to me why we’re here again?” Sienna shouts right into my ear, just so I can hear her over all the noise.

“I told you. We’re here to support our friend.”

“And by friend, I presume you mean Misty.” I shoot her a look that says, who else? “The same Misty who hasn’t replied to any of our texts or phone calls? The same Misty who ghosted us all summer because she had better shit to do than spend it with us? The same Misty who pretends we don’t even exist when we wave to her in the hallways? That Misty?”

“Correct. That Misty,” I grumble, shifting uncomfortably in my seat.

“Okay. Just checking,” Sienna retorts with enough sarcasm to fill the entire football field.

The thing is, she’s not wrong. Ever since Misty got accepted onto the cheerleading squad, she’s been hard to pin down. She’s always busy with practice or this or that. It feels like she doesn’t have time for us anymore.

But she’s still our friend. And this is the first football game of the year and the first time she’ll be down there cheering for the team.

I know this is a big deal for her. I know how badly she wants this. Just because her life has been crazy lately doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be here to support her. Even if emotional support from halfway up the bleachers is pretty much all we can give.

Still, this is whole new territory for me. I’ve never willingly watched one of our school’s football games before.

What can I say? I’m not really into sports where head injuries are practically part of the job description and getting tackled into the ground is considered entertainment. Call me un-American, but the whole thing seems a little barbaric to me.

I guess that’s the price you pay for being a good friend, though. You make sacrifices.

I seek out Misty down on the sidelines and smile when I find her having the time of her life cheering for the team. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this happy.

I guess if hanging out with the Reds puts that big a smile on her face, then I’ll just have to swallow my grievances with them. At least it looks like they’re being decent to Misty. Friendly, even. That’s a good thing, right?

Sure, because of them, I still get called names whenever my back is turned. And there is hardly a class where I don’t find my name scrawled across a desk, followed by ‘For a good time, call Max,’ right along with my actual phone number. And yes, the bullying got so bad that I had to permanently delete all my social media accounts because I got tired of being tagged in gross pictures or being sent links to porn sites by some douche who thought it was funny. And don’t even get me started on how I have to keep my distance from Dean and his goons because of Peyton. That’s a full-time job right there.

The only solace I have is that at least Misty hasn’t been touched by any of it.

The Reds willingly befriending her has to count for something.