in it. Naked ones spitting water at each other.
Honk!
“Oh my fucking God!” I clutched my hands to my heart and jumped a foot off the ground.
A swan waddled past on the other side of the fence, casting a derisive look in my direction. Was it an attack swan? Had it been trained in the art of home defense? Would it swoop over the fence and start pecking at me? Could swans fly?
I had many questions.
The front door of the mega mansion opened, and a man stepped out onto the porch. Even twenty years later and from one hundred feet away, I still recognized him. Travis Hostetter. His blond hair was cut shorter than it had been in high school, but the easy gait, the set of those shoulders was the same. His head swiveled in my direction, and I did the only thing that made sense.
I bolted.
I turned and ran for my parents’ front door, diving over the hedgerow of azaleas. Catching my foot on one, I landed hard on mulch and concrete. The wind left my lungs, and all I could do was stare up at the sky and listen to the rumble of the Cadillac Escalade next door as it backed down the driveway.
I’d made a huge mistake coming back here.
3
Marley
Approximately 1,000 years ago
I wiped my damp palms on my thrift-store-find Umbros. My mom insisted that if I was just going to sweat and roll around in the grass, I didn’t need to do it in full-price name brands. So I’d saved up birthday and Christmas money, squirreling it away until our annual end-of-summer outlet trip.
Yep, I was rocking the black-and-white-striped Adidas flip-flops that the varsity first string all had last year, Umbro shorts, and the same exact Nike t-shirt Mia Hamm, my soccer idol, had worn during the Summer Olympic Games. There wasn’t anything about my outfit that they could make fun of, I assured myself.
This year would be different.
I’d gotten rid of the headband they’d cracked jokes about. I’d even shaved the baby fine blonde hairs on my big toe that made Steffi Lynn Jerkface gag for ten minutes after she saw me getting taped up before a game last season. I grew out my bangs. And I’d spent the last two weeks practicing a new smile. Close-lipped, eyes wide. Friendly, mature.
“Ugh! Your eyes disappear when you smile. Never smile again. It’s creepy.” My memories of soccer were not fond ones.
The deep breath didn’t help settle my nerves. In fact, I felt a little bit like puking. This was the first day of preseason, and it was make or break. I wanted so badly to be one of the sophomores to make the varsity team. I’d practiced over the summer but wasn’t sure if it was enough.
The walk from home to the high school was five blocks. Close enough that my parents didn’t need to drive me. And in a few short months, I’d have my driver’s license. When I had that laminated gold key, I’d back down the driveway just to pick up the mail, I decided. Well, if Mom or Dad would let me use their cars.
The high school parking lot loomed in front of me. Pretty, loud juniors and seniors in their very own cars unloaded thermoses of water and tied high ponytails. They were so confident. So sure of their place in this world. Meanwhile, I was lurking near the entrance to the parking lot and waiting for an engraved invitation to orbit around them.
This would be the year. They would like me. There was nothing not to like, at least according to my annoyingly adoring parents. But they didn’t understand. Somehow I’d been gifted with an invisible bull’s-eye that marked me as a loser, an undesirable. Sure, I had friends on the junior varsity team. But the older girls? Those juniors and seniors with life all figured out? They hated me.
I wasn’t sure what was wrong with me, but I’d hoped I’d changed enough that I’d shed that bull’s-eye. I didn’t think my fragile teenage heart could stand another entire season of constant ass kicking.
A car horn beeped. “Hi, Marley!”
My best friend, Vicky—thank God she was on the team—and her mom waved at me. Vicky’s family lived outside of town, and her mom took turns carpooling with some of the other JV team moms. Three other girls piled out of Vicky’s mom’s back seat.
“Ugh, it’s soooo early,” Vicky complained, scraping her frizz of red curls back in a lumpy ponytail with