Hooked. Liz Fichera

he said as he led me outside his office.

      Like I could forget.

      I nodded, tried to smile again and then lowered my head before walking down the long, musty hallway that I hoped would lead me to the classrooms and oxygen.

      Coach Lannon called after me. “One more thing...”

      I stopped and turned, my shoes squeaking on the linoleum. I’d almost made it to the end of the hallway.

      A grin spread across his face. “Welcome to the team,” he said, just as two boys, one tall and one short, with dark golf bags threaded over their shoulders, barreled down the hallway. Their bags brushed my shoulders as they passed. They exchanged confused looks.

      Instinctively, my gaze returned to the dotted specs on the linoleum floor.

      It was going to be a very long day.

      Chapter 4

      Ryan

      WHAT’S UP WITH HER? I TRIED to mind-meld with Seth as we passed a girl with the ends of her black hair wrapped around her hand. She looked at the floor as soon as we spotted her, like we’d caught her snitching or something.

      As Seth and I approached Coach Lannon’s office, the coach filled his doorway, absently scratching the side of his head.

      I’d seen that pinched look on his face before. He looked a little pissed, and I wondered if word had gotten back to him about Friday night’s party. We’d been in trouble with the coach a couple of times last year for partying, but nothing major. He’d given us the “don’t do drugs” speech and warned us about how alcohol burned brain cells, and we’d halfheartedly promised to stay out of trouble—or at least promised ourselves behind his back not to get caught. I’d heard that one of Zack’s neighbors had called the police because of the music, but, really, I barely remembered any of it.

      “Seth,” the coach said, clearing his throat as we stopped at his door. “Got a sec?” The warning bell buzzed in the background, indicating a ten-minute window before Homeroom.

      “Sure, Coach.” Seth balanced his dark blue TaylorMade golf bag in front of him. He grabbed the sides with both hands and waited.

      The coach’s right eyebrow shot up. “Alone,” he said. “Sorry, Ryan.”

      “Oh, right,” I said as I wedged myself and my bag between them. My best guess was that the coach was going to give Seth another warning about failing grades and ditching class, two things that Seth had done really well last year. Although I’d probably ditched as often, I’d maintained a decent grade-point average without trying too hard. Seth really needed to start taking the coach’s rules seriously. One more warning and he’d probably be off the team. Before I could think it through, I said, “If it’s about Friday night, I can explain—”

      The coach cut me off with a wave of his hand. “What about Friday night?” But then he shook his head and sighed. “Forget it. It has nothing to do with that, Berenger.” His jaw clenched, and I realized that I’d just made things worse.

      Before I could make him angrier, I dumped my golf bag inside the office where six others already crowded one of the corners, including a busted-up plaid one that must have been someone’s idea of a joke. Then I turned around for the hallway without stopping. “See you in class,” I mumbled to Seth as I passed through the doorway.

      Seth flashed me a grateful grin, but I could tell by the way his lip twitched that he was anxious.

      Coach Lannon barely gave me a chance to leave before he closed the door.

      That couldn’t be good.

      * * *

      The next time I saw Seth, his nostrils were flaring.

      He marched into Homeroom with his fists clenched. His eyes blazed and his chest heaved as if the coach had just forced him to do one hundred push-ups. The veins in his forehead looked ready to pop.

      Seth scanned the room until he found me. I nodded at him from the back row and lifted my backpack from the empty seat next to mine.

      I wasn’t the only one who noticed Seth. At least thirty other faces in Homeroom watched him storm his way to the back of the room. He dropped so heavily into his seat that his desk knocked into the guy seated in front of him, but the dude didn’t turn around and bitch. Probably too scared.

      I feared the worst. “What’d the coach say?” I whispered to Seth as he jammed his backpack underneath his seat. Fortunately the Homeroom teacher was too busy going through her attendance sheets to care.

      Seth shook his head and stared into space, then garbled something unintelligible. Totally not like Seth to act so out-of-control crazed.

      I leaned in and tried again. “Come on. Tell me. What happened?”

      Seth’s face darkened another shade, and all I could think was He got expelled. That had to be it. I wondered if I should get a hall pass to see Coach Lannon and try to explain a way out of this. I could promise that both of us would be on our best behavior all year. We had practiced so hard over the summer. The coach had seen us tons of times at my parents’ country club. And if I had to, I’d even break down and beg Dad to reason with him. Dad was an expert at convincing people to do stuff they didn’t want to do.

      Finally, Seth spoke, but his teeth stayed clenched. “Dude, you are so not gonna believe this.” He exhaled as the principal’s voice filled the room over the loudspeakers with a list of upcoming SAT test dates.

      I pulled closer, full-on curious.

      “He. Kicked me. Off. The fucking. Team.”

      “Say what?” My shoulders caved forward. “That is so busted!”

      Seth nodded, nostrils still flaring.

      “Maybe if I talked to him. Maybe if my dad talked to him...”

      A frenzied smile took over his face. He looked as whacked as I’d ever seen him. “Don’t bother,” he said, surprising me again.

      “Don’t bother?” My chin pulled back. Seth never gave up without a fight. “Why not? We could talk to him. We could talk him out of it—”

      “Save it, Ryan,” he said.

      “Why?” I said. “Why not try?”

      “Won’t matter,” he fumed.

      “But the coach saw you at the club this summer, practicing your ass off.” Seth might not have been the best player on the team but he had gotten a lot better. The coach had to have noticed.

      Seth half laughed, half snorted. “Seems I got axed anyway.”

      “Did it have to do with the party? Did he hear about it?”

      “Had nothing to do with the party.”

      “What, then? Why?”

      Seth’s tight-lipped smile faded, but the anger behind his eyes only got worse. The blood vessels around his forehead looked freakishly ready to explode. “Some girl named Fred Oday got my spot.”

      “A girl?” I was speechless. My eyes narrowed. There was that odd girl name again: Fred.

      “Here’s the best part,” Seth continued, his voice growing raspier. “Coach isn’t even making her try out.” He chuckled darkly. “He handed my spot right to the bitch.” His glassy eyes stared back at me. “Sweet deal, huh?”

      I shook my head. Hardly.

      I didn’t even know this girl, but I already hated her.

      * * *

      Homeroom was only fifteen minutes, but it felt like fifteen hours.

      Afterward, Seth stormed into the hallway. “I gotta ditch,” Seth told me. “I need to chillax before my head explodes.”

      “I’ll