Page 27 of Exchanged

I think Garrett might be good. He runs fast and catches the passes that are thrown to him. But he’s not good enough to make our team win, for which I am selfishly grateful. It would have been too much if Golden Boy showed up and carried our team to state finals on top of being everyone’s favorite domestic exchange student.

Even as I think this, he catches a pass in the end zone, bringing our score into the double digits. I watch as he and the other players chest-bump, smack their helmets together, and slap one another’s butt.

“Why does everyone love him?” I ask.

“Who?” Katrina asks. “Georgia?”

“Yeah.”

“Because he’s nice?” Trevor offers.

“And smart and athletic”—Katrina ticks each attribute off on her fingers—“and hot.”

“You too?” I accuse.

“Not that I’m into him,” she adds.

I gaze down at Garrett. Not that I’m into him, either, but he does have a fairly fantastic butt. I suppose it helps that football—arguably the world’s straightest sport—has pants that seem engineered to accentuate dudes’ butts.

Mr. Campbell cues up a chorus of “Sweet Caroline.” Cymbals don’t belong in this song—they don’t belong in most songs—so I just crash them together every time the crowd yells, “So good! So good! So good!”

When we finish, a voice breathes in my ear, “Enzo! How aaaare you?”

I turn. Kelly Chambers is leaning forward from the bleachers behind me, her face inches from my own, her shiny black hair pulled into a high pony. She’s the sort of flute player who acts like she’s too cool to be in band.

“Hey, Kelly.”

“So,” she says, resting one arm on my shoulder, the other on Trevor’s. “Your new roommate is sooo gorgeous.”

The girl knows how to cut to the chase. I glance at Garrett on the field, and use the opportunity to scrutinize his physique again.

“Too bad he and Dana Hendricks are hooking up,” Trevor says. He pivots in his spot and makes a wah-wah-wah noise with his mellophone in Kelly’s face.

“Are you sure?” I ask.

Trevor nods emphatically. “Her locker is next to mine, and they’re constantly groping each other all over it.”

Kelly ignores him. “And totally exotic, you know? All Southern and charming. They don’t make them like that up here.”

Katrina rolls her eyes. “They make them just fine up here. What do you want, Kelly?”

“There’s a party at Dana Hendricks’s place after the game. You going?”

Trevor lets out a bark of laughter. Katrina shakes her head in amusement, like Kelly told a hilarious joke. After every football game, there are two parties: one for the football players and cheerleaders, and one for the band and everybody else. Tonight, Ryan is having the band and everybody else over for cards and video games in his parents’ basement.

But then I think of Garrett. Of how he might be gay and how there has to be some way to find out for sure. He’ll be at Dana’s party, having fun, and he’ll be drinking. A plan begins to half form in my mind.

I shrug. “Maybe I’ll go.”

Trevor raises his eyebrows at me. “Who would you even hang out with? Everyone from band will be at Ryan’s place.”

“People,” I say noncommittally, making up my mind.

“Eeeee!” Kelly gives me a peck on the cheek. “I can drive!” And then she settles back into the bleachers behind us with her flute friends.

“Enz,” Trevor says gravely, “there’s going to be alcohol at Dana’s party.”

“I know,” I say, trying to sound like this knowledge doesn’t stress me out.