Ever since Gladiators practice started, I’m hungry all the time. When the lunch bell rings, I pound down the stairwell in a herd of sixth graders. We have four hundred kids in our grade, Meadowbrook Middle’s biggest class ever. I rush around the corner, pushing through the crowd. On Tuesdays, the cafeteria serves square pizza. It’s a slice of heaven.

Bryan’s in his usual spot at our table, but he’s not eating. His eyes are glued to the cafeteria door.

“It’s pizza day, Bry. What are you doing? Get in line before all the corner pieces are gone.”

Bryan springs up and walks as fast as he can to the pizza line. I lean back and watch where Bryan’s going. Who do I see walking to the pizza line ahead of him? Marisa Zamora. I should have known.

“Hey, Sofer.” Nick Spence and his friend Darren Warshauer are standing at the end of our table. Nick tosses his hair. He must think some girls are watching.

I take a bite of my pizza and chew it at them.

“Heard you got a new teammate.” Nick’s keeping a straight face, barely, but Darren’s smile shows all his braces. He’s in the jock group, which wasn’t even a thing in elementary school. Typical Nick, acting like a jerk to impress the cool kids.

“I’ve got a lot of new teammates,” I say. It’s not a lie. There are at least eight new Gladiators, but I know who he’s talking about.

“Only one of them is a girl,” Darren says. “I don’t know whether to be grossed out or jealous.” His light-brown hair is gelled like Bryan’s, but it looks cooler on Darren.

Nick’s face twists into a smirk. “It’s not natural. Wrestling is a man’s sport. That’s what my dad says, and he’s on the board of the county wrestling league.”

“Shut up,” I tell them both. I’ve barely spoken to Mickey since that first practice, even though Coach keeps pairing us up. I keep telling myself if I don’t talk to her, she’ll give up and find someone else to train with.

Bryan slides into his seat and drops his tray on the table. Pizza. Tater tots. Applesauce.

“Is it true Sofer’s got a girlfriend?” Nick says. “If you can call her a girl.” He elbows Darren.

“Who? His partner?” Bryan looks at me. “I thought you hated her?”

I take a deep breath. Uh-oh.

“She’s your partner?” Nick breaks into hysterical laughter. “That is perfect. Sofer and the She-Man are wrestling partners.” He and Darren walk away, shoving each other. They look back at me and start laughing again.

“What’d you do that for?” I ask Bryan.

“What’s the big deal?” he says through a mouthful of pizza. “She’s not your girlfriend.”

“And she’s not going to be my partner either, not for long.” I chew my pizza. “There’s got to be something I can do.”

“Besides not speaking to her?” Bryan asks. “You really have a way with the ladies.”

“Like you do?”

Bryan blushes from his chin to his glasses. “I talked to Marisa.”

“So?”

He wants me to do the guy thing, clap him on the back or shake his hand.

“I’m paving the way,” he explains. “I’m going to ask her to the winter social.”

“If you’re such an expert on girls, how do I get rid of Mickey?”

Bryan folds his arms across his chest. I know he’s annoyed, but I want to talk about his crush about as much as he wants to talk about my wrestling problems.

“The silent treatment’s not working,” he says. “Why don’t you cut her a break? She’s Evan’s sister. Evan’s like your big hero wrestler brother. If you’re nice to his sister, he’ll make you his official sidekick.”

“Ha ha.” I don’t want to think about what Evan will say when he finds out I’m not speaking to Mickey.

“Maybe she’s nice. She must have a sense of humor to put up with you.”

I shake my head and we both go back to eating. Two rows over, Nick and Darren turn to look at me. The whole jock table bursts into laughter. Bryan’s too busy gawking at Marisa to notice.

No matter what Nick thinks, my problem’s not only that I’m stuck wrestling a girl. Mickey’s new to travel. Partnering with a newbie stinks. How am I going to get better unless she’s pushing me to work hard and improve?

All my anger at Coach Billy, all the hard words I should have said to Spence push their way into my throat. “You don’t understand,” I tell Bryan. “It’s a sports thing.” I’m being a jerk, but I can’t stop myself. “I’ll ask my wrestling friends. Your advice is useless.”

Bryan blinks at me from behind his glasses. “Then don’t ask me next time.” He stands, grabs his trash, and walks out of the cafeteria.

All my good feelings about this season, my plans for making it to States, disappeared when Mickey Delgado walked into our wrestling room. It’s her fault Nick Spence is laughing at me. It’s her fault I argued with Bryan. I wish she’d just give up and quit already. But so far, no matter what I throw at her in practice, Mickey keeps coming back.