“No plan,” I tell him. “We go in and figure out what the fuck is going on.”

Royce nods and steps ahead, Raven following behind him.

Cap trails a little slower, so I stay at his pace, meeting his stare when he looks to me. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

I frown at the building thinking the same damn thing.

“Let’s go.”

Leo meets us at the door, Royce already standing there grilling him, Raven at his side.

“Coach is out now, but they’re already in the gym getting ready for the assembly,” he tells us.

“Fuck.” I shake my head. “I forgot about that shit.”

Leo nods. “I think you should wait until after.”

“I think you should keep your thoughts to yourself,” Royce bites back with what the three of us are thinking.

Leo tenses, but quickly shakes it off, moving out of the way with a tight shrug.

I meet Cap’s stare.

“Let’s go in, we’ll pull his ass out.” Royce yanks the door open and we step through.

Soon as we’re inside, the bell rings and people rush to take a seat, but we head straight for Coach.

He quickly breaks from Perkins and rushes our way, his face etched in anger. “Sit. And stay sitting.”

“Talk, and talk now,” I demand.

He glares but does as he’s told. “Your dad called. I’ll explain, but I need you boys not to fight me on this, no matter how bad you want to.” He looks between the three of us, his eyes pausing a brief moment on Raven before he walks off only to turn back one more time. “Sit.”

Royce’s jaw clenches, but he only groans and moves for our seats – the first-row of bleachers in the center of the rest.

Captain moves next.

Coach Brail is one of the only people we trust around here when we’re forced to count on other people, but even I admit right now it’s real fucking hard to keep my cool when tension is so fucking high between us all. To say we’re on edge is an under-fucking-statement.

The office lady turns to usher Raven off, but I stop her before she can speak on it. “She sits with us.”

The woman clamps her mouth shut and gives a tight-lipped nod.

As soon as I drop my ass down, Coach catches my eye, narrowing his own. He tips his chin.

“The fuck’s he trying to say, Madman?” Royce hisses beside me.

I shake my head slowly. “I have no fucking clue, but he wants us to stay in line.”

“Fuck him,” Royce quips and I can’t say I’m not on the same wavelength of thinking. “It’s our fucking line, he’s lucky we let his ass on it.”

The crowd dies down as Perkins pulls the microphone to his mouth.

“Good morning everyone,” he addresses the room. “It’s an exciting time, and even with our ... unexpected and disappointing loss this week, we’re going into playoffs tonight as the number one seed over Graven Prep.”

The students go fucking nuts, shouting out their excitement while Perkins looks pissed we still managed to pull ahead based on points earned and points allowed through the season.

Fuck him.

Perkins goes over some bullshit about the hype the next few weeks will bring, reminding everyone that school work comes first and other shit he doesn’t believe in but preaches to save face, and then the music starts, and he moves aside as the cheerleaders take center court.

Chloe, front and fucking center as always, makes damn sure not to cut her eyes our way while she shakes her ass or pops her tits in some sex-infused move she’s thrown in the middle of their routine.

They do some crazy acrobatic shit and people go nuts whistling and clapping.

“Now that’s some flexibility,” Mac muses a few spaces down and Royce chuckles.

He ain’t lying. The cheer squad, or dance team you could call them, has won at state the last three years, ever since Chloe started choreographing. She never lets anyone fucking forget it.

Soon as they’re done, they throw their poms at the team’s feet – not a single pair land near me – then crawl to some cheesy fucking wolf calls to retrieve them.

Captain kicks the pair near his feet away with the shake of his head.

He looks past me before meeting my eyes. He nods his chin, so I shift to look at Raven.

My brows hit at the center when I find her zoning out, eyes forward and focused on nothing.

“What—”

I go to call her out but stop short when Perkins flicks the mic on again.

His eyes instantly hit mine, and I glare.

“All right! Thank you, girls, that was lovely,” Perkins starts, way too fucking giddy for me.

My brothers and I lean forward wearing matching frowns.

“Now. We have an announcement to make. It’s not usual,” he continues and my pulse kicks. “And it took some digging into the rulebooks, but I’m more than happy to say it’s all been worked out.”

“Maddoc...” Captain trails off.

Perkins’ stare slices to mine, triumph growing in his eyes.

“Please,” he pauses, the corner of his mouth tipping up. “Help me give a warm welcome to the newest member ... of Brayshaw High’s Varsity basketball team.”

There’s a beat of silence in the room, but a deep ringing in my ears tells me to stand.

My brothers rise with me.

The door tucked away in the farthest corner from us is thrown open with a loud thud and in walks Collins Graven – wearing a fucking Wolves jersey.

My body starts to shake as anger fills every inch of me, but my feet have turned to lead. I’m rooted in my fucking spot.

Royce and Captain must be too, because they’ve yet to move.

He dares to walk in here?

The whispers start, growing louder and louder until the entire fucking student body is gasping and talking shit behind us.

Collins stands tall, slowly stalking forward, his eyes scanning every face he can find in the stands from left to right.

Then they stop, right on fucking Raven at my side.

She slowly pushes to her feet, and my eyes snap her way. She doesn’t look at me but keeps her blank stare on his.

Mine move back to him. The corner of his lip rises as he studies her and I take a step forward, but all of a sudden, Coach is right there, pushing me back, blocking my body discreetly with his. He drives his shoulder between me and Raven and turns his head to my ear.

“Do not fucking move,” he growls through his teeth. “He wants this. You move, he starts over you next game.”

I have no idea what’s said after that, all I can focus on is the blood pumping through me at an increasingly dangerous level.

Raven takes a step left, a step away from me, and I push my chest against Coach’s.

“Raven.” I glare.

She licks her lips, taking a half a step forward.

Her hands rub against her jeans and unease flares in my chest.

“Raven...”

My head snaps straight when her name flies from Graven’s mouth.

I see it when she resolves herself to whatever the fuck was going through her mind.

Her chin lifts, shoulders square.

In one swift motion, she whips her sweater over her head, a black jersey with teal trimming – a Wolves jersey, a fucking Brayshaw High jersey – with the large number one on it covers her frame. A jersey identical to the one Graven is wearing.