Chapter 3

The next day, the basketball court was buzzing with energy in the afternoon.

Nora and I had snagged the best seats in the house, each of us clutching an ice-cold Coke.

Sure enough, Charlie was out there on the court.

He was rocking a black jersey with the number 7 on it.

He was tall and athletic. Every move he made—running, jumping, shooting—was packed with strength and intensity, drawing waves of excited screams from the girls watching nearby.

"No way, Lila, you mean Charlie is the surprise you were talking about?" Nora grabbed my arm, practically bouncing with excitement. "He's…