Chapter 9

Not two seconds after Blake started taking off his shirt, someone called out his name. Blake quickly put his shirt back on and turned around. “Linc?”

Lincoln, captain of the lacrosse team their senior year, was one of the people Blake had hoped to avoid, at least at first. Blake remembered him being a loud, crude slacker whom the teachers gave up trying to discipline halfway to graduation. Now he was thicker around the waist, had notable bags under his eyes, and appeared to have broken his nose at some point.

“I was hoping I would run into you,” Lincoln said. “I wanted to apologize.”

Blake was stunned. Lincoln was top of the list of people from whom Blake thought he would never hear an apology, even though most owed him one. “For what?”