I wore his name on my back.
Not planned. Not discussed. I showed up at the arena and Sienna handed me a jersey – black, oversized, MADDOX printed across the shoulders in white block letters, number seventeen beneath it. "Before you argue," she said, "it's too late. I already bought it."
I put it on. It smelled like new fabric and bad decisions and it fell to the middle of my thighs and the second I caught my reflection in the arena glass, I knew there was no coming back from this.
Everyone noticed.
Zara grinned. Sienna took a photo. Three girls in the row behind me whispered loud enough for me to hear – she's wearing his jersey, it's official, Caleb must be losing his mind. I didn't look for Caleb. Didn't need to. I could feel his attention from across the arena like heat from an open
