The first three days of wrestling practice kicked Will’s butt.

He loved it.

Each ache and pain said, “You did the work. You earned me.” Will liked that feeling, and Eloy seemed to, too. It felt good to work hard with like-minded people who shared the same goal of squishing another guy flat.

By Saturday and their first half-day practice, Will was tired and sore and totally pumped. Coach made the day a technique clinic, moving them through a broad range of key wrestling moves, explaining the why of every move. Something as simple as one’s stance could give a smaller wrestler an advantage over a bigger but less experienced one, good posture providing balance and the ability to move quickly in any direction. The coaches covered every major body part. Quick and efficient feet to move all over the mat. Knees kept bent in a Z for flexibility and strength. Hips the core of using the upper and lower body together in connected, fluid moves. Arms critical to every takedown and counterattack. Even the head a strong resource to hold positions or break out of them.

And that was only half the awesomeness of the day. Since the point was to practice slowly, watching body position and thinking through how moves could flow into one another, the coaches disregarded weight while pairing the guys. They changed up practice partners throughout the day, so Will got to know everyone a little better. Facing off with big guys like Max and Randy was scary no matter how slowly they went, but both were totally cool. Max joked around about Bug Boy, and Randy was mellow, explaining where he thought Will could adjust for better positioning. Will relaxed in no time, beginning to feel like a real part of the team. He noticed that Eloy seemed to be doing OK, too.

Afterward, Coach Van Beek pulled Will aside and said he had a good technical foundation and was looking forward to seeing him grow. Will bit his lip to keep from grinning like a loon and planned to beg Mom to buy a giant box of protein bars so he could add some muscle and weight. Coach meant “see Will grow” as a wrestler, but Will wanted to grow, period.

Eloy pulled Will aside, too, and invited him to his house on Sunday.

“Uhh.” They hadn’t really talked until this week, and now they were going to each other’s houses?

But then Eloy added, “Come on. We can practice the wrestling moves some more, and you can meet my dad.”

That made Will’s heart speed up and his mouth water. “Will he cook something?”

“You’re obsessed.”

“I’m focused.”

“Is that a yes, then?”

It didn’t seem right to agree solely in the hope of being fed, so Will thought about putting him off by saying he was grounded, even though he knew Mom would let him go because of wrestling . . . and probably because of Eloy.

But then he saw the yellow cover of the Wrestling for Dummies book in Eloy’s bag. The guy hadn’t even thought of joining the team until Wednesday. Eloy was committed, that was for sure, and Will had promised to help him learn.

Will told him to text the address.

After that, Will was more than ready to get home. The practice may have been “slow,” but that made it harder in some ways, because they had to control their movements more and hold positions longer. Will showered in the locker room like everyone else, but at home he could stand under extra-hot water until it ran out.

Dad was driving a train, so Will texted him that practice was over so he could call if he got a break. Engineers weren’t allowed to use their phones while driving, but since the trains frequently were stopped for long stretches, he could sometimes check in for a few minutes. Will’s dad had wrestled, too, so it was cool to talk with him and break down some of the techniques Will was working on. But Dad’s being gone meant it was just Will and “the girls” all weekend, which was the kind of thing Dad could say but Mom and Hollie didn’t let Will get away with for some reason.

When Will walked in, Hollie was at the coffee table decorating a poster board with glitter, gunking up the living room with red and silver sparkles. He knew from experience that they would end up in his clothes and hair no matter how much distance he kept from them, and it was always bad when the guys spotted glitter he’d missed.

“You’ve got a room,” he told her.

“Your face needs bedazzling,” she said. “Not that it would make a difference.”

“Mom,” Will complained.

“The vacuum is already out,” Mom said. As if that helped.

Will huffed, because Hollie always got her way, then thumped his sweaty gear onto the washer. He washed his stuff every day to prevent skin infections, but with Sunday off tomorrow, he went ahead and did an extra clean, including getting everything together to wash his gym bag, plus his wrestling shoes in a pillowcase. Mom kept antibacterial wipes in the small alcove for him so he could wipe down his headgear and kneepads, too. He wondered if anyone had told Eloy about preventing the skin stuff, and that made him remember Eloy’s gear—because he had some. He must have gone to the sports store in Rochester right after their first practice on Wednesday. And it wasn’t as if wrestling shoes, headgear, and kneepads were cheap. Eloy was seriously committed.

The small laundry area filled with the stink of Will’s clothes.

He remembered making the deal to help Eloy practice, thinking it wasn’t a big deal, because Eloy would quit after the first practice. Though he hadn’t been Will’s teammate at the time, it now felt disloyal to have had that thought about someone who had proved himself to be so determined.

When the doorbell rang, he flinched.

“Will you get that, Will?” Mom called.

On his way to the door, he passed the kitchen and took a deep sniff of the smells of ground beef and taco mix in the air. It was really early for dinner, but Mom stirred the sizzling meat and had already covered the counters with chopped lettuce, shredded cheese, and open containers of sour cream and salsa. Hard shells from the taco kit were on a baking pan ready to go into the oven. “You’re cooking?”

Mom gave him a look.

“You know what I mean.”

She smiled. “Hollie and I ran a bunch of errands and didn’t have lunch. I figured you’d be hungry, too.”

He grunted because, yes, he was always hungry.

“Use your words, fuzz-butt,” Hollie said.

Will growled as he passed her and the glitter island she’d made in the living room.

“Nice.” She blew a puff of silver glitter at him.

“Mom!” he yelled, but then whoever was at the door knocked.

Will opened it to a UPS guy.

And a box marked Live Crickets.