Noah

Lunch smelled like overcooked tater tots and reheated pizza, same as always, but the tension at our table felt sharper than usual.

Daniel was in full-on performance mode, his voice booming loud enough for half the cafeteria to hear. He was leaning back with his feet propped up on an empty chair, grinning like he already had a full-ride scholarship signed and sealed.

“Any day now,” he bragged, taking a swig from his energy drink like he was in some kind of commercial. “Coach ...