The sun beams down on my face as I sit with my legs sprawled out in front of me out on our front lawn. Reagan’s bare toes touch my own as we form a small barricade in the grass, to keeping Molly close by.

I swear she looks bigger already.

“Any ideas for birthday stuff this year?” Reilly asks from where she’s perched on the house’s small front porch. The question is almost enough of a distraction to break my focus and let one small, determined puppy barrel past me and onto the driveway.

“Haven’t given it much thought.” I answer as my fingers wrap around Molly’s middle. Her body is mainly white but has one big patch of brown covering most of her back and down a back leg. One of her front paws is the same tawny color, along with the right half of her face.

I’m surprised to find my answer to Reilly’s question is actually true. Our sixteenth birthday will be coming up right along with the first week of school. While the milestone birthday is something I feel I’ve been thinking about for years, this birthday hasn't seemed like as big a deal to me as I used to think it would. “You?”

Reilly shakes her head. Together, we look over at Reagan.

“Don’t ask me. Parties are more your thing. I was probably just going to do something with Kent on the weekend… or something. I’m not sure. He keeps hinting that he has something planned.”

“Ooooh.” I call out, in tune with Reilly’s own teasing call.

“Shut up.” Rea calls back, but she’s actually grinning.

“Didn’t we just pass your one-year anniversary?” I ask.

Reagan furrows her eyebrows, which look a fair bit more unruly than my own. “No. We’re barely past six months.”

“Not that anniversary.” I wiggle my own eyebrows. “The one year anniversary of the day you two first started making googly eyes at each other.”

“You mean the day we moved to Fairview?” Reagan says with an exasperated huff, she didn’t miss a beat in remembering that those two days were one and the same.

“I like my version better.”

It’s kind of weird to think that my family has now lived in Fairview for a whole year–not counting the time when we lived here as babies. My sisters and I were actually born here—the Fairview Four. Since we’re identical quadruplets, some people thought it was kind of a big deal at the time. In order to afford to have four babies at the same time, my mom had to take a better paying job in Richmond, Virginia, moving us away before we were old enough to remember what this place was like.

Now we’ve been back for a year.

Weird.

“So, did you guys want to do a party or something?” Reagan asks, clearly attempting to turn the conversation away from her own love life. Either that or she’s still kind of loving that she now has a pretty awesome group of friends that she gets to invite along.

I’m not really sure I get the theatre geek thing. Or the geek thing at all. I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen Reagan happier.

“Probably.” I answer, considering the idea. “You know Dad would go for it. Sweet sixteen and all that.”

“We’d probably have to limit it to a few people each.” Reilly chimes in. As much as it sucks, I know she’s right. So far, it’s probably one of the few downsides I’ve found to having three sisters I share a birthday with. No way I’ll ever be able to invite everyone I want to over for one big, Reece-centric birthday party. If my sisters invited their friends too, it would just be way too many people for one house.

I mean, we could all have our own birthday parties, but that doesn’t seem quite right either.

“Dibs on getting to use however many of her invites Rhiannon doesn’t want.” I call out.

Reilly shoots me a disagreeing grimace. “Don’t say that in front of her.” she chides. “She has friends.”

“Does she though?” I ask.

Reilly only shrugs. Rhiannon knows all of our friends, she also knew the people we hung out with back in Richmond. She even had a couple close friends back there too. She still mostly likes to keep to herself, an impulse I’m not sure I’ll ever understand.

“I can talk to Mom and Dad about birthday ideas.” Reilly says, stretching her legs out in front of her. There’s no question that out of all of us, Reilly has gotten the best tan this summer. I’m a little jealous of the bronzy glow of her skin, especially since I feel like I’ve spent all my time outside since school finished in June.

I guess once you factor in my time at the animal shelter, all of my extra naps, and the fact that a lot of the time I’ve been spending outside has been after the sun has gone down, I guess I don’t get to complain.

A low-whistling noise comes from a few houses down, I recognize the sound at once. It’s pretty obvious from Reagan’s expression that she does too. I don’t even need to turn around to know I’ll find Kent walking down the street toward us. He and Reagan have spent almost every day together this summer, sometimes alone and sometimes with their friends.

The two of them usually end up spending their alone time here, even though there isn’t really anywhere to get actual privacy at our house. I guess it beats the alternative of being under the constant scrutiny of Kent’s mom, a reporter for Fairview’s only newspaper, and a pretty big pusher of anything Fairview Four related.

“There’s my favorite girl.” Kent says, a little too loud once he reaches our lawn. Reagan steps toward him, but Kent is moving in the opposite direction. As soon as I notice what’s going on I lift my knee, letting Molly nudge her way under my leg until she’s free and running full speed toward Kent.

For one terrifying second, it looks like she’s going to keep going right past him and down the street, but Kent is ready. He grabs her around the middle and scoops the little dog up in one smooth movement. “That’s right...” he says, “...you’re my favorite girl. Yes you are.”

Reilly and I both laugh as we watch our sister’s boyfriend fawn over our temporary dog while Reagan stands back, seemingly mentally fawning over Kent, not at all offended that she’s been bumped down to the rank of Kent’s second favorite girl.

The striking green streak that used to decorate Kent’s hair is long gone, leaving his coarse hair all black and more normal looking than it did the first time I met him. At first glance, I probably wouldn’t have guessed that he was half-caribbean, especially not after meeting his very blond mother. Now that I know him and that I’ve even met his dad a couple times, I’m surprised I didn’t see it.

I’m also a little surprised that my dorkiest sister managed to get herself a guy this cute. Though to be fair, he’s pretty dorky himself.

“Wait, what time is it?” I ask out loud as my brain frantically tries to remember something it heard earlier today, something that feels super important.

At breakfast, Reagan said that Kent was coming over at two.

Crap.

The only reason I remember that at all is because I thought it was a random coincidence that he was coming over at the same time my first soccer practice started.

“Ten to two.” Kent answers me, completely unaware of how relieved I am to hear that he had been early instead of late for his date with my sister.

I exhale a sigh of relief. Ten minutes. I still have ten minutes to get to school.

The school that is usually about a fifteen-minute walk from home. Better make a run for it.

At least I’m already dressed and wearing shoes that are comfortable enough to sprint in.

“I’ve got to go. Do you guys have Molly?” I direct my question at Reagan since she already agreed she’d watch the dog while I was at practice. It still feels like I’m supposed to check in though.

“Yup. No problem. Go. Kick balls. Score points. All that stuff.”

I don’t even have time to come up with a retort. Instead, I’m already sprinting down the street.

Despite running hard, I slip into the back of the group after Coach Wasserman has already officially started practice. I would have made it if I hadn’t had to change into my cleats.

My lungs are screaming at me as the team starts to make their way around the track. I’ve done enough of this already! My new coach shoots me a look, promising she saw that I had been late for our very first practice. I push myself to run faster, not letting myself fall anywhere near the back of the pack.

Soon enough, my body is loving the familiar burn of working hard. I lose myself in drills and focus on my footwork.

God, I have missed this so much.

I’m not really sure how I made it through all of last year without throwing myself into soccer for more than one skirmish with friends at a time.

I’m back now. I plan to make up for lost time.

By the time Coach calls a break for us to go rehydrate, I’m sweating hard and wishing I could practice like this every day. Maybe one day I’ll be able to play for a university team, where soccer is my first and only real priority and school becomes the filler activity that really just marks time between practices.

Behind Emma, I trot over to the cooler and grab myself a bottle of water, slowly coming out of soccer mode and back to the real world. I hadn’t even realized we’d had an audience. A group of six guys sits near the sideline of the field. Most are chatting or on their phones, but one of them is looking right at me.

Noah.

Right away, I start moving toward him, taking a long sip of water as I move.

“Hey.” I say with a nod. “What are you guys doing here? I thought you had practice yesterday.” Technically, I guess I’m talking to the whole group. In reality, I’m only looking at Noah.

“We were nearby at Joel’s house, thought we’d come see if anyone was here.”

“Checking out the competition?” I say, joking. With Noah still staring right at me, I’m seriously struggling to come up with anything clever to say.

Someone nearby scoffs. I turn to find a lanky guy with dirty-blond hair and smoky-gray eyes making an incredulous face at me. “How are you guys our competition?” I think this guy might be Joel. I’ve been introduced to him a few times, but for whatever reason, his name isn’t one that has stuck with me.

I’m immediately not a fan of Joel.

My eyebrows shoot up. “Huh?” I say, making myself give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Girls team.” he says, jerking his head toward the group by the cooler. “Guys team.” He spreads his hands out in front of him, indicating his friends. “Not even in the same league.”

I hold up a hand, silencing him before he can say anything else. “Okay.” I take a breath, frantically trying to figure out what to say before my pause starts to lose effect. “I could have given you that you aren’t our competition. Thanks to high school sports rules, you will never have to know what it feels like to have us kick your asses. But… not in the same league? Come on.”

My heart still racing from practice, I stare Joel down, waiting to see what he comes back with. I’m mostly just hoping he lets it go. I’m not looking for a fight today, not when I’m having one of the best weeks ever.

“Don’t come on, me.” Joel’s friends snicker with laughter. I just roll my eyes. “There are some basic laws of biology in play here. You ladies just aren’t capable of the same level of skill that we are.”

I officially want to kick this dude. I’ll show him my damn skill level. Before I can even open my mouth, wanting to wipe the floor with him in every possible way, a whistle blows from across the field.

It definitely hasn’t been five minutes yet. Confused, I turn to follow the noise and see Coach Wasserman looking right at me. “Donovan!” she calls out. “Come here!”

“Saved by mommy.” Joel stage-whispers, easily still loud enough for me to hear.

I don’t even bother looking back, too tense with frustration to even really care about my missed opportunity to chat with Noah.

“You were late.” Coach says as soon as I stop in front of her.

“I’m sorry.” I answer, knowing better than to start making excuses. “It won’t happen again.”

“I hope not. I’ll let you off the hook for today because you are still on vacation. I know how hard it can be to regain your focus. I expect the absolute best from my girls this year. We’re too small a town for sports to ever have been a major focus, however we have a good group this year and I intend to make the most of it.”

I nod, trying to remain passive, or even deferential since I really don’t want being late today to hang over my head all season. I fully intend to give this team everything I have. I want to make sure my new coach knows it.

No matter what Joel thinks, I know Coach Wasserman is right that there is some serious talent on the girls team.

“Something the matter?” Coach asks, surprising me. “If you’re not willing to put in the work, tell me now. I won’t have anyone treating this as little more than a way to blow off steam and hang out with their buddies.”

I shake my head emphatically, wondering what my expression had shifted to so that the coach thought I was disagreeing with her hardline attitude or disapproval of my tardiness. “It’s not that.” I look back over my shoulder. The guys are still there, laughing and talking over one another. My jaw clenches with comebacks never spoken.

“Then what is it?”

With my mind made up, I look back at the coach.

“It turns out that some of the boys team is under the impression that they’re way more skilled than we can ever be, merely by merit of their…” I cut myself off just in time, before I can say something I really wouldn’t be able to take back. “Because they’re guys and we’re not.” I finish pathetically.

Instead of looking annoyed at my slip, Coach Wasserman’s mouth has quirked up in an amused smile. Her expression quickly shifts to annoyance as she takes in my words. “Is that so? Funny enough, that’s not the first time I’ve heard that kind of sentiment.”

I nod, not sure what else to say.

“I had been planning to ease us in today, with team building and filling in any skill gaps that might have developed since last season.” I school my expression. I’ve been working my butt off since I arrived… this is what she considers taking it easy? Should be an interesting year. “Instead, I think it’s time we step things up. How about we show these fools what girls are really made of?”

Despite the fact that I’m already exhausted and that every one of my leg muscles are already aching, I find myself nodding enthusiastically. I like the way she thinks.

With no warning, Coach Wasserman blows her whistle again, signaling the end of our water break.

It’s time to get back to work.