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“So this is the famous Max.” Mrs. Collins’s face immediately brightens as she looks at me.

Oh, no. What has she heard?

Mr. Collins gives his wife a pointed look, though the corners of his lips twitch with amusement. “Honey.”

“What?” She turns to him. “You’ve been talking about her since school started. Let me at least get to know her a little.” Her attention returns to me. “He was so excited when he saw your name on his class list this year. He’s been looking forward to finally having you as a student.”

Heat floods my cheeks.

School has barely started, and somehow I’m already dinner-table conversation.

“That’s… um…”

Words, Max. You know lots of them. Use one.

“Thank you?”

“Oh, don’t thank me. I’m not the one who’s been singing your praises.” Mrs. Collins smiles. “Though, to be fair, when I met Garrett in college, he was a bit of a writer himself. He gave it up when he started teaching, but he’s always loved finding students with real promise. And apparently, you’ve got plenty of it.”

“Jessica.”

“Am I lying?” She looks at him innocently. “You’re the one who can’t stop bragging about her,” she teases. “He’s even started writing again. I haven’t seen him this inspired in years.”

Okay. Now my face is officially on fire.

Mr. Collins looks almost as embarrassed as I feel.

“What my wife means is that after I told her all the good things Mrs. Anderson said about you last year, it was only natural that I wanted to see for myself just how much potential you truly have. More importantly, I wanted to see how I could help you develop your creative writing skills to match your natural-born talent for storytelling.” The corners of his mouth lift slightly. “And though it’s still early days, I can already tell Mrs. Anderson wasn’t exaggerating. I have a feeling we’re going to do great things this year. Are you ready for that?”

My face gets even hotter, and all I can manage is a nod.

“Oh, no. I think we’ve embarrassed Max.”

“Which is precisely why I wasn’t going to say anything.” Mr. Collins throws an arm affectionately around his wife’s shoulders.

Instead of looking at them, I stare down at my shoes, wishing the ground would do me a solid and swallow me whole.

“Dad.” Luke tugs at the fabric of his father’s pants. “You said we could go get ice cream after the game. Can we go now?”

“Yes! Can we go now? Please?” Toby echoes, bouncing on his heels.

“Well, that’s our cue. Nice seeing you girls.”

“You too, Mr. and Mrs. Collins,” Paige replies for the rest of us, already looking past them to see if any of the football players have made their way out of the school yet.

“Oh! There they are!” Paige says when she spots a couple of players emerging from an emergency exit at the side of the building.

I barely have time to wave goodbye before Paige hooks her arm through mine and tugs me forward to match her pace, a grumbling Sienna following right behind us.

“Kody! Kody! Over here!” she shouts the second she sees them, letting go of my arm and running toward him, Dylan, and, to my chagrin, Milo.

Sienna and I watch her jump into Kody’s arms, her legs wrapping around his waist as the two immediately lay on some heavy PDA with a passionate kiss.

“Well, that’s that. Come on. Now that Paige is with Kody, she won’t even notice if we split on her,” Sienna says, already planning our escape.

Too late. Milo’s eyes are quick to find mine, his whole face lighting up as he walks over to us.

“Hi,” he says, showcasing those knee-buckling dimples. “This is a nice surprise. You’ve never come to one of my games before.”