“Thanks, I think.”“It’s totally a compliment,” Zander reassured the lady who was close in age to his mother.“What’s your major?”“Spo...ts management. I’m minoring in journalism.”“Excellent. How do you like it here at Barton.”“It’s great. My mom didn’t want me to be this far from home, but the coaches are like family. It’s kept me focused on my academics.”“What sport do you play?”“Football,” he answered proudly.“I like football,” Malak gently touched her dense, platinum-dyed natural hair.“Who’s. I just had to after that.” She held up a hand to forestall her. “No you can’t see the poem, he made me pinky-promise that.”“Come oooon,” Stacey said. “Can you at least give me some of it? A line or two?”Mercedes blew a raspberry. “Okay, okay. Part of it, um... ‘Hair like chestnut, you look so good. Eyes like mahogany, you give me wood.’”Stacey broke into giggles. “Oh my god. That is so bad.”Mercedes scowled like Stacey insulted her writing. “Yes, but he wrote it himself! That’s what makes it. More

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