The space underneath the bleachers was usually the best place at William McKinley High School to have a private conversation. CJ couldn’t believe she’d forgotten about cross-country practice when she suggested that she and her three best friends meet there after school. “Maybe we should go somewhere else,” she said. Up until this year, CJ had been on the team too. She’d never been a particularly strong runner, and she reminded herself that quitting made sense. She needed the time in her schedule to study for her SATs. (Another thing she wasn’t particularly strong at.) And to save the world. (Something she was actually pretty good at. She had more volunteer hours than anyone in the entire school and no intention of slowing down.) Still, it was weird to watch her old team practice without her. “We could try the library. Or that spot behind the cafeteria dumpsters.”