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parent’s wouldn’t come. I caught only bits of what Mr. Rhinehart was saying …m oney belts , generally safe , but pick - pockets in touristy areas, electrical socket adapters , exchanging money.
    He clapped his hands together, pulling my attention back to the front. “And that’s pretty much it. Our meet - up place at the airport will be in front of the Air France ticket counter at seven fifteen.”
    Zoey was the first one out of the room. I smirked when I saw Mr. Rhinehart’s face turn red. She must’ve forgotten he told her to stay after. Maybe I’d be doing the assignment by myself after all .
     
    *****
     
    A few minutes before three, I parked and got out of my truck, basketball tucked under my arm and walked up to join the guys who were messing around on the court.
    “Mat - ty ,” Justin called, tossing a ball straight for my head. I ducked at the last second rather than catching it so he’d have to jog after it. “Dick,” he jogged past me.
    I rolled the extra ball I was holding to the sidelines and joined the guys on the court to pick teams. Bryce, Jake and Conner were on the South Lake basketball team and Tim was on the JV football team.
    “Hey bro, those sophomore girls were mackin ’ last night, why’d you leave?” Justin asked , jogging back up.
    Of course he noticed that . The other guys looked at me, waiting to hear my answer. “ Yeah, I had to go.”
    “Well, let’s just say you missed out. Someone had a happy ending at the end of the night.” He smiled.
    “Good for you.” I shoved the ball in to his chest.
    We divided into teams, and I landed with Jake and Conner. I didn’t want to be on Justin’s team anyway — that way I could check him with an elbow to the ribs for throwing that ball at me.
    “We’re skins,” Bryce said, pulling his shirt over his head. Tim tossed the ball at him and he easily plucked it from th e air , showing off, dribbling between his legs. Bryce and I went to the free - throw line and each took a shot to see which team got the ball first.
    We both missed our first shot, but Bryce sunk the second one and Justin jogged after it to get the rebound. He palmed the ball and dribbled once, forcing it under his le g , then headed down the court with it.
    He took a shot and missed.
    I jumped and grabbed the ball , holding it to my side while Bryce and Justin swarmed me . I ducked to the side to get away from them, and dribbled out to center court, giving myself more space. And then suddenly, Bryce was on me, w hen I went right, he went right, and when I went left, so did he . I had no shot, so I dribbled out to center court, trying to get some room . I watched his foot work, trying to predict which way he’d go next and guessed right. He shifted on the balls of his feet and I sprung past him to take a shot. I missed.
    We played for a little while longer, th en took a break on the benches once it was tied twenty - one, twenty - one. I swigged from a bottle of Gatorade and wiped the sweat off my forehead with the sleeve of my T - shirt. The afternoon sun was glaring down on us.
    “Look at those jackasses . ” Justin pointed at the group of skaters ove r at the skate park . We glanced over at the half - pipe and a few small rails — our town’ s attempt at being hip . It was mostly frequented by the stoners and their girlfriends. “Hey, Matt, isn’t that Zoey Marshall , your Parisian lover?”
    I glanced over and saw Zoey sitting cross - legged in the grass watching the guys skate. “F - off, Justin.” I shoved him from the end of the bench.
    “You tapping that?” Bryce asked.
    “Uh, no.” I shook my head. I looked over at Zoey again. She was watching Jordan on the half - pipe. I wondered a f ter what happened in Rhinehart’s class if she’d be at the airport in the morning.

 
    Chapter Seven
    Zoey
     
    “Damn, Matt Parker looks like sex on a stick,” Morgan said, shielding her eyes from the sun. I followed her gaze across the park and watched him get