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At the sound of the bell, Rosalie rolled up her bag and stuffed it into her backpack. She swung it over one shoulder and stepped away from the table with Sami at her side. He offered his elbow.

"Allow me to escort you to your next class," he said, and Rosalie slipped her hand onto his arm with a laugh.

"Don't mind if I do, good sir," she said, and together they departed from the lunch room with the rest of the crowd. They stuck shoulder-to-shoulder in the passing crowd and blended in down the west wing. They walked along the blue strip of tiles on the ground, cautious of where their feet stepped. She jumped to the next tile near Sami's locker.

"You know, now that everyone's back from break, are you thinking about getting the team together?" Sami asked, using his free hand to unlock his locker.

She hummed thoughtfully. Last year she managed to convince Ray to host the welcoming party, but it sort of... turned into a disaster. All bets were on Alyssa for being the one to wrangle the boys team along with, but she never fessed up to it, and didn't participate in the betting, either. The boys team tended to go overboard. Ray still hadn't forgiven them.

"I don't know," she confessed. "Maybe a movie night? Though, no one's gonna want to pay for theatre tickets... Outdoor theatre?"

"Sneak in?"

"I don't know about that," Rosalie confessed with a frown. "I'd feel too guilty."

"Okay. Maybe another time—without the entire team," he said. "If you all do end up partying, I could invite some of the swim team. More the merrier."

The swim team was a bit more tame. Just from experience, their parties tended to be filled with non-alcoholic punch, midnight swims, and bonfire ghost stories. Those were the sorts of parties Rosalie liked. She went to one with Sami over the summer, which... may or may not have been the reason why their betting pool was now at $354.56...

One of the swim team seniors had a lakefront property in Delaware that they all road-tripped to. It was feasible in the summer, but not so much during the school year.

"I'll ask the team about it at practice," she offered, though internally she knew she wouldn't. It was always a risk hosting a party she knew half the team would be drinking at. If they were to ever get caught, their spot on the team would be filled by less-qualified members, and they could kiss potential-regionals goodbye.

"But in other news... this chick, huh?" Sami went on, and Rosalie slumped against a nearby locker and groaned. "You mentioned you knew her before?"

"Yeah. I didn't want to mention it in front of Ray," she confessed. Truth be told, Virgin Lips was a common nickname on the soccer team until Rosalie became captain just the previous year. Ray only dropped it after freshmen year because Rosalie asked. "Seventh grade. Soccer camp."

"Oh. Oh! Oh, shit, Rose," Sami gasped, hand over his mouth. He looked around before leaning in and whisper-shouting, "Joanna's the chick who punched Lennie?!"

"I don't even know if Lennie even knows," she confessed, hand over her face. "I'll have to ask him."

"Please do, and text me the instant you find out. I want to know what his reaction is. I bet it'll be priceless," he said.

Sami shut his locker, and the two of them walked to the second floor and disbanded at their separate halls. Sami dramatically tried to hang onto Rosalie's arm, and reached after her before spinning around the corner, out of view. Rosalie slapped her hand to her face, grinning as she stepped through her sixth hour door.

By some miracle, Rosalie glanced over the class and spotted Lennie almost instantly. She started towards him, aware of the nerves building up inside of her. He was alone in that corner of the room, reclined back in his chair with a leg propped up on the seat in front of him. In his hands sat a heavy sci-fi book with Ursula Le Guin on the cover.

It was unfair how every year seemed to increase his beauty by 10%. His fluffy black hair, buzzed short on the sides, looked mused from (Rosalie assumed) his girlfriend's cute pats. Whenever they were caught together, Harper Winters and Lennie Pittmen, Harper tended to ruffle his hair and pet it like Lennie was a puppy. He never seemed to mind, and Rosalie found it adorable because his RBF tended to make him off-putting. Either that, or a perfect model.

He turned a page as Rosalie slipped into the seat in front of him and twisted around.

"Hey Lennie," she started, and he glanced at her over the book.

"Oh, Rosalie. Lovely surprise," he said, pulling his foot back and marking the page by dog-earing it. Her eye twitched in annoyance at that. She couldn't believe she came seconds away from kissing a boy who dog-eared his pages.

"I was... wondering if you heard anything about the new girl," she confessed, and hoped her expression said it all.

He glanced at the door as more students began filing in. A member of his team walked in, and began maneuvering around chairs to meet them. Hurriedly, he leaned forward and said, "So that is the same girl? I thought I was just losing my mind."

"I was with her this morning. She remembers," Rosalie said.

"What the fuck did I even do to her?" Lennie hissed in annoyance. "I've been wondering that ever since—"

"Len! And Rosalie, I see," the soccer guy said. Rosalie looked up at him, arms clasped around the back of her chair. Jamie-Lee Berry, otherwise known for his graceful keg stand routine at parties. She hardly ever saw his face right-side up.

"Hey man," Lennie said, reaching a hand out. They did their little bro-shake as Rosalie turned back around.

The seats began filling up as Jamie-Lee dropped into the desk beside Lennie and leaned over to tap Rosalie on the shoulder. She glanced back at him, arms crossed.

"How was your summer?" he asked. His skin had to be a dozen shades darker than when she last saw him—though it was always a caramel brown—and his smile seemed all the more brighter for it.

"Fine. I didn't see you at camp this year," she said.

"Yeah. Spent the break in Arizona with my grandparents. Toured Arizona State," he said, and mumbled in annoyance, "Again."

"I think you'd have fun there," Lennie said, and Rosalie could hear the joking smile in his voice.

Jamie-Lee barked a laugh and waved a hand. "Coach is already threatening me about keeping my GPA up. If I go there I'll never get my degree."

"If you go to Arizona State for soccer, I don't think they'll care whether or not you get a degree," Rosalie said, picking at her desk.

Lennie laughed, and Jamie-Lee slumped in his chair, feigning a critical shot wound.

Just then, the seat in front of Rosalie creaked, and a heavyset, broad-shouldered figure dropped into the chair in front of Jamie-Lee. "Whoa, Cox, switch seats?" he said, and Dylan turned around to smirk at Jamie-Lee.

"What, can't see, shorty?" he said, and Jamie-Lee began fizzling with anger. "Yeah, sure."

They stood and swapped desks as Rosalie processed the fact that the girl in front of her was too familiar for her eyes to be playing tricks. Joanna Spencer. Yet again.

She propped a leg up on her chair, draping her elbow over her knee as she looked back at Dylan, and then caught Rosalie's bitter scowl on the way. "Oh, hey hot-shot," she said.

"Meet the Twinkle-Toes," Dylan said, gesturing to the three of them.

"So. You're all soccer kids, huh?" Joanna said, raising an eyebrow at the three of them before settling on Rosalie. Her gaze drifted back to Lennie, whose summer tan flooded from his face.

Joanna halted at him until Rosalie tipped her head to the side to block Joanna's view. Joanna narrowed her eyes from behind her thick-rimmed glasses, smirk broadening as the teacher called their attention. Joanna lingered a moment longer on Rosalie and Lennie before twisting back around and tossing her hair purposefully so that it fell onto the edge of Rosalie's desk.

Joanna had to have her schedule wrong. She had to. Rosalie was positive that she hadn't retained a single bit of information all day due to her inability to stop glaring at the back of Joanna's head, or thinking constantly about how paranoid she felt, feeling Joanna's eyes on her from behind. More than once during second hour English, Rosalie had turned around to find Joanna staring at her. The Devil would grin and refuse to turn away, even when they met eyes.

Why did God decide to shit all over my senior year? she thought, fuming internally. Senior year was supposed to be the best out of all of the years, and yet now her insides were roiling with discomfort over the presence of some hotheaded ginger with bruised knuckles.

They were surrounded, though, that day in math. Not only by Joanna and the past she brought with her, but also the football star Dylan Cox, who spent the majority of class pissing Jamie-Lee off.

The end of class flew up to them before Rosalie could process the bell ringing. She straightened, blinking bleary-eyed as if arriving from a dream. She rubbed a hand over her hair, glancing over at Jamie-Lee, who was too busy slapping Dylan's hands like the cat he was. Dylan was trying to put a paper crane on Jamie-Lee's head of brown curls.

"Aw, you bent its wing," Dylan whined, nurturing the small thing in his oversized hands.

Jamie-Lee burst to his feet and straightened his tie. "It deserved it. C'mon, Len, let's go."

"I need to talk to Rosalie first. I'll meet you in the locker room," Lennie said, rising to his feet. Jamie-Lee hesitated, because even Rosalie could tell that it was a weird excuse. That brown-haired, brown-skinned boy turned his eyes down to Rosalie, who shrugged and busied herself with packing away her things.

Dylan Cox stayed where he was as Joanna's shadow rose up in front of Rosalie. She glanced past the fringe of her bangs as Joanna turned, arms crossed, and faced Lennie with that unnerving smile.

"So I hear your captain of the boys' team now. Congratulations," Joanna said with a mocking curtsey.

"I also hear you assaulted one of my guys," Lennie said.

"And I'm proud of it," she said. "Did you hear what for? Huh, Len?"

"Whoa, hey, no more fighting," Rosalie said, jumping up and sticking her arm between them. She caught Joanna's eyes, and the little Devil took a step back. "I'm sure O'Gallagher told you to watch your step."

Joanna picked at her nails and said, "O'Gallagher can suck my dick if he's so eager to jump on me."

"Ooh, good one," Dylan said, pumping his fist in the air from where he still reclined back in his chair.

"Keep your hands off my guys and I'll consider doing the same to you," Lennie said.

"Sexy," Joanna said with a roll of her hips. "I'm into pussy, so you'd do."

With that, she turned away, and Rosalie heard the sound of her own heart flopping on the ground. She swallowed hard and turned back to Lennie, whose jaw hung loose.

Joanna called Dylan's name, and soon, the two of them were leaving class. The next group was coming in as Rosalie and Lennie struggled to recover.

***

Rosalie, like several of her teammates, scheduled her study hall for the end of the day to finish homework before practice. Lennie recommended the same to his teammates, and so they all headed for the lunchroom as the final bell rang. Lennie had his arms wrapped around his books, holding them close to his chest as they walked in silence down the steps.

At the foyer, Rosalie finally spoke. "If it makes you feel any better, she doesn't play soccer anymore."

"That's a relief," he sighed. "Though, she already seems to have a grudge against my team. If one of my guys gets provoked by her—"

He didn't finish. Getting in a fight with Joanna could risk suspension and worse: Expulsion from the soccer team. Not being able to play for the Knights was like a death sentence to them all—except, perhaps, Alyssa, who couldn't care less about how she spent her hours after school so long as people knew she looked flawless doing whatever it was she did.

"Tell that to Jace. I'm afraid he's looking for payback," Rosalie confessed.

"I've already threatened him with an entire practice of suicides if he picks a fight with her," he promised, and Rosalie nodded her consent. "Jace wouldn't say what happened with the fight. All the sophomores from the wing were too terrified of Joanna to tell me."

"He called me Thunder Thighs," she confessed, and Lennie snorted. She glanced oddly at him before shaking her head with a sigh.

"No, seriously, what'd he do to her?"

"I just told you."

Lennie hesitated, and his smile seemed far too amused for Rosalie to handle. She flushed from her toes to her ears and looked away. "He called me Thunder Thighs," she muttered, and Lennie slapped a hand over his face, trying to mask his giggles. "Stop it."

"I-I'm sorry. It's just—You have to admit, that's kind of funny. And petty."

She pursed her lips and stood through his laughter until he finally calmed down enough to wave his hand, clearing the topic off the metaphorical table. "Right. Okay, I can see how that could make you angry. But seriously, Rosalie. That's not a bad thing. You put a lot of work into those... Thunder Thighs."

"Lennie," she whined, stomping her foot. Lennie grinned at her, and should Middle School Rosalie catch wind that this conversation would happen in the future, she never would have given up on Lennie Pittmen. And for that, her blush was justified.

"Whatever," she said at last. "It wasn't me who asked Joanna to punch the sense out of Jace. And I can see how that could piss someone off, hearing a guy say that to a girl who doesn't usually wear a skirt. I mean, look at me! Am I even Rosalie?!"

"The skirt looks fine," Lennie said as Rosalie kicked up her leg, only to remember that she was wearing a skirt. She stomped her foot down and straightened the pleats as Lennie turned away, clearing his throat. Were his... ears red?

Oh my God, I just made him blush, she thought, trying desperately to cover her own flushed face with her hear.

At that point, they reached the lunchroom. Ray Hartley was already there, and waved eagerly at the sight of them. Lennie muttered a half-hearted farewell to Rosalie before breaking off to meet with his teammates. Rosalie hurried to Ray, who sat with Juliana Lane—one of the team's primary defenders. After spending the summer in the sun, her face held a plethora of fresh freckles that spotted all along her cheeks, nose, and forehead. Her thick eyebrows went up at the sight of Rosalie and Lennie entering together, and pointed a pen in his direction as Rosalie walked up.

Juliana tucked a short strand of black hair behind her ear and tipped her head quizzically to the side. "New friend?" she said, grinning.

"Hold that thought," Rosalie said, swinging her backpack onto the table. She opened the top flap and dug around for her handy-dandy tool of the day.

The instant she pulled out the polaroid, Ray and Juliana got into position. Rosalie poised the camera up, squinting through the lens. Ray splayed across the table, and Juliana framed her freckled face with her hands. After snapping the picture, Rosalie settled onto the bench.

"In response to your question, though: Hardly," she said, plucking the picture out from the bottom slot of her camera. She held it up to the air and stuck her camera back into her back. "Just reminiscing the good ol' days."

Juliana turned then to Ray for answers, who thought over what "good ol' days" Rosalie might be referring to. Juliana was a junior, and therefore didn't know the specifics of Rosalie's Virgin Lips tale other than the fact that Rosalie had yet to be kissed.

She boiled over that fact more so than usual that day.

"Oh! Oh my God, why were you two talking about that?" Ray said, voice dropping into a controlled, panicked whisper. "He's still dating Harper, isn't he?"

"Yeah! Oh, God yeah. We were just talking about it because our dear friend Jo happens to be the one who punched him that day," she explained, and clasped her hands firmly in front of her with a fake smile. "Joanna punched Lennie in the seventh grade," she explained to Juliana. "And is also the reason why Lennie never got to kiss me. So there you have it."

"Jesus," Juliana murmured. "I didn't know Lennie ever even—"

Ray shushed her violently, waving her hands in a panic. "We don't talk about it anymore! Which is why I'm so surprised that you...?"

"Oh! That reminds me. Sami needs to be updated," she said. "He's going to have a field day with this.

With that, she pulled her phone out of her breast pocket and leant over the table, thumbs tapping on the keyboard. As she texted Sami, Juliana went back to telling Ray about the move. That summer the Lanes moved house closer to Montgomery County. It nearly halved her commute time to Bradshaw every morning and evening after practice.

"—After camp I spent all my time in the pool. Oh! It's so nice! I can't wait to relax there after practice," Juliana said, swooning to the side.

"Oh! That reminds me," Rosalie said, setting her phone aside. "Sami wants another party with the swim team and us."

"I wouldn't be able to convince my parents to let me host it even if I tried," Juliana said, eyes wide. "I wish, though. You all would love the pool."

"My house is off limits after last time," Ray said, holding her arms up in a cross formation to ward them away.

Rosalie slumped over the table with a pout.

"Sorry, Rose. Not gonna happen. I would like a party, though. The swim team's always fun to have around," Juliana said. Rosalie peered up at her, and found the sweet girl smiling. "Try Alyssa, maybe?"

"She'd turn the party into a disaster if she hosted," Rosalie reminded her, and Juliana shrugged.

"Then what about you?" she said, and Ray let out a hoot. "What? What's so weird about that? I've seen the inside of Rosalie's house—it's perfect. You even have a hot tub."

"Yeah, but have you met her mom?" Ray said, leaning back in her chair with a confident smirk. Rosalie sighed as Ray splayed her hand out on the table and said, "Strictest bitch you'll ever meet. I mean, she's lovely and all, but why else do you think Rosalie's stuck in all those AP classes."

"Hey, I chose to take all those AP classes," Rosalie said.

"Yeah, because you wanna do your mama proud, huh?" Ray laughed. "No one except Sami would put themselves through that shit."

And, apparently, Joanna, she thought miserably.

"Oh, whatever," Rosalie scoffed, straightening up. "But you're right. She'd never agree to it."

"Worth a shot," Juliana said. "Now—We've already got homework so both of you be quiet while I read Shakespeare."

Rosalie swung her backpack onto the table and began unpacking her own homework. Her phone buzzed on the table beside her, though, and she became distracted by Sami's eager responses.

___

SAMI: I'm losing my mind over here
I'm over here shipping you two even tho I know Harper will come at me from the shadows with a knife.

ROSALIE: Do yourself a favor and STOP THAT
As if Lennie even thinks of me as anything more than a