One of the girls in nice. Mindy. She’s the one who offered to keep me company while Gage is practicing. The rest of them scan me like I’m a barcode and decide, apparently, that I need some work. “Oh my God, that skirt,” says one of them—a pretty, raven-haired girl with a dozen hoops in one of her ears. “Are you wearing it that long on purpose?”

Mindy smacks her in the shoulder. “Shut up, Krissy. Leave her alone.” Her lips tilt up in a smile. “You’re risking the wrath of ...