The morning grew terribly hot, and I noticed that the guys kept glancing over at me as I filled paper cups up with water. I didn't blame them. I was thirsty and I wasn't really even doing anything.

Sheryl walked over to me, her thumbs hooked into the loopholes of her cut-off denim shorts. "Hi Lyric. Don't you love it here? That used to be my job, serving drinks, but now you're the lucky sucker."

I smiled. "Lucky. That I am." I reached out and tousled her wheat blond ringlets. "You're done yelling at the poor football players?"

"For now!" She cringed. "Ouch. Your brother just got creamed."

"Excellent," I giggled. "What number is he?"

"Twenty-three. He's the dirtiest one, see? Over there?"

"You've got five minutes to break," Boone announced, and some of them immediately collapsed to the ground. Most of them, however, pushed their way past each other to me, Master of the Water Jug.

"Make a line!" I ordered, struggling to have my small voice heard over all of theirs. "No spilling please. Thank you. Have a nice day."

"So you're Coach Yoast's niece?" a boy with an out-of-place Californian look to him asked me, standing off to the side while he drank his water.

"Yep, apparently," I replied.

"I'm Ronnie." He looked me up and down. "You don't really look like you were born a man."

I gaped at him. "That's because I WASN'T--" I glared past him. "SKY!" I shouted.

Someone playfully punched my brother in the shoulder. "I think someone's talking to you."

"That's okay," he said, shrugging and avoiding eye contact with me.

Alan, the boy I had already met, took a cup of water, downed it, and reached for a second. "Don't worry. He didn't tell that to the whole team. He told some people that you have webbed feet, you eat drywall, and you never shave."

"He reads Nancy Drew mysteries."

"Really?" he laughed. "I'll have to tell that to everyone I know."

"Thank you Alan," I said, flashing him one of my rare genuine smiles.

"My pleasure." He dropped me a wink and left to talk to Ronnie.

Sky came to the front of the line and went to grab a cup of water, but I slapped his hand sharply. He glared at me with hostility.

"Touch my water and die," I growled.

He shrugged. "Sounds fair. What do you want?"

"If you want a drink, you have to promise to take back all the rumours you've spread about me."

"What about the rumours I've spread about Summer?"

"Those don't concern me."

"Deal." He turned around. "Hey, everybody, I lied! My sister has always been female, she has normal feet, does not eat walls, and she might shave, but I don't really check her legs out very often."

"Great, now let me get some water," someone shouted.

"There, all better, Schnookums," Sky said.

The following day, Summer was still sick supposedly, and the sun grew even more unbearably hot. Sweat was building on the back of my neck even when I just sat in the shade, reading and waiting until I was needed for something.

Closing the book I was reading after I finished it, I looked up, the sun's rays glaring into my eyes, and saw Coach Boone crouching in front of a player lying on the ground.

"Get up, Alan," he said. "There's no room for this on my team."

"It's too hot," I heard my brother snap. "Just let him sit off for awhile. He's going to get heat exhaustion."

Despite the distance between us, I saw hesitant sympathy cross over Boone's face. He nodded reluctantly and helped Alan to his feet. They walked about five feet before Alan doubled over and threw up on the sidelines.

"Okay, okay, you're all right son," Boone muttered, patting his back.

I got to my feet and ran to the refreshments table while Boone led Alan over to the tree I had been sitting under.

When I came back with a cup of water and a fabric-softened towel, Alan had his back rested against the trunk of the tree, his face all red and sweaty.

"Thanks, Lyric," Boone said to me as I handed Alan the water. "Keep him hydrated." He looked at Alan for a moment before he jogged back to the team.

I kneeled down awkwardly at his side, handing him the towel.

"Thanks, kid," he said, giving me a weak smile.

"No problem." I tried to ignore the smell of sweat and football cleats. "Do you think you'll make it?"

"Yeah, I'm just a little queasy." He covered his face with the towel for a moment, his shoulders hunched over, breathing deeply, and then dropped it to his lap. He glanced at my book. "Eye of the Needle, eh?"

"Yeppers," I replied, and unfolded my legs from under me, scooting over to sit next to him against the shady tree. "Just finished it. It was pretty good."

"I've never met a girl who was into science fiction," he said and then made a funny face as if he were berating himself for saying that.

But I didn't care. He was just making conversation. "I'm not into science fiction. I just liked the book."

Alan studied the back of the book. "Looks interesting."

"Yeah?" I smiled at him.

"Could I borrow it?"

My smile froze. I had taken this book from my Mom's collection before we had had to donate most her belongings to Goodwill and Salvation Army prior to the move to Alexandria. I didn't know this Alan guy very well, and if he lost it, I would be losing another piece of my mom.

He had an honest face though. He had a what-you-see-is-what-you-get presence about him that made me want to trust him, which was unusual for a cynical person like myself.

"Yeah, I guess you can. Just…take care--"

He tapped me on the head with the book playfully. "I'll take care of it. It's in good hands."

"Do you need more water?" I asked.

"Don't worry about it."

I peered into his cup. "Looks pretty empty to me."

"What are you, my personal slave?"

"Absolutely," I said cheerfully. "But I get paid."

"Well in THAT case!" He held out the paper cup. "Fetch me some water, wench!"

"You neglected to say please." I climbed to my feet.

He grinned up at me sweetly. "Please and carrots?"

Laughing, I left to pour him a drink and when I came back, he had his eyes closed.

"Replenishment!" I called.

Shielding his eyes from the sun shining behind me, Alan smiled and took the drink from me. "Thanks."

"Just doing my job," I giggled, settling beside him again.

Downing the water, he grumbled, "Crap! I feel better!"

"No you don't," I told him.

"Yes I do. You and your stupid healing water."

"No one has to know you feel better."

He peered over at me mischievously. "You're way cooler than your brother."

"Thank goodness!"

"So are you older or younger than him?" he asked conversationally.

"A year younger," I replied. "And then he's got a twin."

"Is her name Star or Cloud or something?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Summer. My mom was weird that way, I guess."

"Why are you staying with Coach?"

Shrugging, I muttered, "My dad didn't want us."

"Did your parents get a divorce?"

"They were never married." I picked grass out of the ground. "My mom killed herself."

Alan winced. "Sorry. How old were you when it happened?"

"It's been about a month."

His eyes widened. "Jeez, Lyric, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"It's fine," I said.

"No it's not," he argued. "Now you look sad."

I laughed bitterly. "Well, I kinda am."

"My mom died when I was young. I don't remember her well, but my sister is older and sometimes she has to be by herself to miss Mom." He smiled sadly. "So I could lie and say I know how you feel to make you feel better, if you want."

"Nah," I said. "It's actually just nice to talk to someone besides my sister. Sky won't talk about her very often, and when he does, he doesn't have anything nice to say."

"Well, you've got your sister."

"She keeps saying 'Everything is going to be just fine' and crap like that."

"She's probably right."

I smirked. "Hope so. It sucks feeling this way."

"What way?"

"I'm mad at my Mom," I admitted. "I haven't even started to miss her because I'm not done hating her for not loving us enough to stick around to take care of her family. And then she leaves us with this 15-year-old will that said her brother would be granted custody of us." I shook my head in contempt. "She knew she was going to die but she didn't have the sense to change her will and leave us with someone we actually knew."

Alan's eyes went wide. "You didn't know Coach before you came here?"

"Never even heard of him."

"She never told you she had a brother?"

"Nope." I shrugged. "We don't know what happened between them or whose fault it was."

"Well, that's an unhappy story." He looked at me, but I kept my eyes fixated on the team as they struggled through their drills. "So I take it you hate it here?"

The indescribable look on his face brought a smile to my face. "No, I don't hate it here, Alan."

"Your brother does."

"My brother is hating-machine."

"The only time he's not complaining is on the field."

I smiled, a bit of affection for Sky touching my lips. "He does love football."

Someone jogged over. "Hey Bosley. Coach wants to know if you're ready to come back in."

"Ask her," Alan said, using a deliberately weak voice. "She's taking care of me. I am putty in her hands."

"You don't say," the other boy said, laughing. "I don't know who 'her' is, though. I haven't been introduced."

"This is Lyric, Coach Yoast's niece." He grabbed me by the wrist and made me shake my hand at the other guy in a flimsy wave. "Say 'hiiiii,' Lyric!"

"Hiiiii," I said.

"I'm Petey, Lyric. Nice to meet you. What's Alan's diagnosis?"

"It's looking dismal."

"That doesn't sound good."

"Oh, it's NOT. He oozes with disease." I gave him a pointed look. "It could be contagious."

Petey stepped away from us. "So I'll be leaving now. But won't you catch his oozing problem?"

I grinned. "Nope. I already ooze."

"Eww, I didn't know that," Alan said distastefully when Petey left.

"I was KIDDING."

"Sure you were."