Ezekiel's POV
The gymnasium throbbed with raw energy, every seat crammed with bodies draped in our team colors. The marching band hammered out our fight song while hundreds of voices merged into thunderous chants that seemed to shake the very foundation of the building.
This was my element.
The roar of the crowd, the electricity crackling through the air, the way heads turned when I walked by - this was what I lived for. Here, surrounded by the chaos and worship of game day fever, I could forget everything else and just be the star quarterback everyone expected me to be.
That was the plan, anyway.
But my attention kept betraying me, sliding across the packed bleachers until it found her.
Ximena sat with Glenda halfway up the stands, and the sight of her made my stomach clench. She wore our school's jersey, but not just any jersey.
This one bore the name Garcia emblazoned across her shoulders.
Anton's name.
