Luckily, we didn’t all share one bathroom. The house had been renovated a few years ago so that it felt more like a dorm than a normal home. Each room was connected to a bathroom that two people shared. Emily was my suitemate.

"You can shower first, Em. I'm going to open my gift and call my mom." I smiled and closed the door to give her some privacy.

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That was when I finally studied the package. My name was written on the top in hand writing that definitely didn't belong to my mom. She pretty much wrote everything in calligraphy. As a kid, she would send me to school with napkins in my lunch that she'd scrawled long, perfectly lettered notes onto.

They'd always tell me something positive about myself: you're intelligent, talented, beautiful, etc. And then she'd add a little joke to make me smile, like:

Question: What did the snail say while he rode on the back of the tortoise?

Answer: Weeeeeee.

Have I mentioned that my mom might be insane, but also the most loving person in the world? Too bad she and my dad were 94/890

living it up without me in Aspen. I guess they deserved it. I’d been a hellion to raise.

But that's how I knew that my name wasn't written in her handwriting. It was too messy. I turned the package over and ripped open the parchment paper. There was a little box inside, and when I opened it, a small piece of paper fell out along with a gift certificate.

I scrunched my brows and picked up the gift certificate first. It was for a high-end Los Angeles Day Spa and it included an hour long massage and a few other optional treat-ments. I would absolutely be using the gift certificate at the end of my week. They'd probably need a team of masseuses to work out the knots in my muscles if we kept practicing like we had that day.

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I reached down for the note.

"Birthday Girl,

You'll need this after today. Sorry it's a little late, but I thought you deserved one more gift."

No signature. No name. What the hell?

My first guess, and the guess from the 5% of me that lived in la-la land, was that Liam sent it. He'd called me Birthday Girl a few times and even once that morning… but then I realized he hardly knew me. Damn. That meant it was probably from Josh. The handwriting sort of looked like his.

The idea suddenly dropped a rain cloud over the entire gift. Did I really want to think about him while I tried to relax in a spa? I reached for my phone and texted him.

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Kinsley: Did you drop something at my house today?

Then I closed the text and called my mom. She answered on the fourth ring and hearing her voice instantly made me miss her.

"Kinsley, how was practice?!" she asked.

I sank down on the floor next to the bed and smiled against the phone.

"It kicked my ass. Like literally, my ass is sore as I sit on the phone with you."

"That sounds... painful. Why is your butt sore?" she laughed.

"They made us run a kajillion sprints…

aaand I suppose I might have gone a little crazy last night for my birthday, so I paid for it this morning."

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"Ahhh, the truth comes out. Did you go out with your new teammates? And if you were drinking, you better not have been driving. Also, you better not have been drinking."

Right, because what US college student wasn’t drinking? I chose to just skim by the topic.

"We took a cab, and yes, actually two of the other rookies and I have pretty much formed a little love triangle, sans lesbian tendencies. Becca is from Texas and looks like she could be a Dallas Cowboys cheer-leader, and Emily is from Minnesota. She’s a little quiet, but super sweet."

"I can't wait to meet them." I could tell she was smiling. "I'm flying in for the first game no matter what, but maybe I'll come to 98/890

a scrimmage or something? If that wouldn't be too embarrassing?"

I smiled.

"Yeah, you should. I'll let you know when we start getting things on the schedule.

But I have to go shower, Mom. I'm going to lunch with Becca and Emily."

"Oh good! Use the credit card I gave you and buy them lunch on me since we couldn’t throw you a fun birthday dinner."

I smiled, thinking that since I was most likely the last person to shower, I owed them lunch anyway.

"Sounds good, thanks. Love you!"

"Love you, too!"

When I hung up, I looked down and checked my phone. Josh had texted back immediately.

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Josh: No? Just the flowers yesterday.

You said you got those, right? The pink roses reminded me of you. How was practice?

He'd mistaken my question as a peace offering. He was sorely mistaken. But if he hadn't sent the gift card... No, I couldn't even think about it. There was no way it was from Liam, and if it was, then that baby was getting framed and mounted on my wall.

"Shower is free, Kinsley!" Emily called through the bathroom door.

Saved by the shower.

I tucked the gift certificate in my wallet and decided not to tell Emily or Becca about it until I had pinned down its sender.

…

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"Wake up, Rookies!" a voice shouted just before a fog horn ricocheted through the house the next morning.

"What the hell!" I scrambled to sit up and catch my bearings just as the fog horn rang out again. A glance at my cell phone told me it was barely 5:00 A.M.

"You have three seconds to get downstairs everyone or you'll be running laps around the block!" Tara called. I could imagine the sardonic smile taking over her features. If anyone was power hungry, it was that girl.

I threw the sheet off my legs, which were feeling the effects of the previous day’s workout, and slipped out of bed. I banged on Emily and Becca’s doors on the way down to make sure they heard the commotion. They 101/890

both shuffled out after me and we hustled downstairs only to stop dead in our tracks when we saw the upperclassmen lined up in front of the small fireplace. They each had a camo bandanna tied around their head and black stripes beneath their eyes.

They were dressed for war. I was dressed in fuzzy socks and a long sleeping shirt.

"Line up!" Tara yelled. Becca and I exchanged knowing glances. Was this normal or was Tara actually going off the deep end?

Either way, we listened. All the rookies lined up and faced the upperclassmen without saying a word.

"Today is the first day of your initiation onto our team. It's a rite of passage. It was done to everyone that came before you, so suck it up and take it like a champ." Why did 102/890

that sentence seem so foreboding? Like she was about to ask us to bend over.

That's when I saw the costumes laid at their feet, and I groaned. We were going to have to dress up.

"Excuse me, Kinsley, is there a problem?" Tara asked with a hard stare.

"No," I answered quickly, glancing at the array of colors and fabrics on the living room floor.

"Are you sure? Because you don't seem to want to be here." She was picking a fight and I knew it. She wanted an excuse to go harder on me than the rest of the girls, and I wouldn't give it to her.

"No, I'm excited," I answered, looking up at her with a small smile. It was like looking 103/890

into the face of the devil and accepting his challenge.

"Good, then you'll be thrilled to see what you're wearing to practice today, Bryant."

She reached down and picked up a hideous bright yellow spandex leotard and tutu. Seriously, whoever made it had perfected the exact shade of puke yellow.

"You'll be our snitch."