“I’m Tyler,” he says, as we approach the pickup spot. His gaze flickers to me, but he doesn’t stare.
I mumble my name and Tyler hangs out with me until the long yellow bus pulls up.
The driver opens the pivoting door and Tyler hands me my backpack. His mouth presses together in a serious look I’ve only seen adults use. “You okay?”
I nod and climb the steps to the aisle between the seats. I watch Tyler through the windows as the driver pulls away. He walks in the opposite direction, staring ahead, his wiry arm bent where he shoved his hand into his jeans pocket.
I sit in the rear of the bus and hug my backpack to my chest, a smile on my face.
I should be upset that the girls picked on me—but I’m not. If they hadn’t, Tyler might not have shown up.
And I like Tyler.
Chapter One
Mira
Three years later
My fears have always gotten in the way of what I want. But not tonight.
Alicia Keys’s “No One” blares through the custom sound system of Holly Walker’s living room, her house packed with faces I recognize from the hallways of our high school.
The reason I’m here, when I normally avoid these parties like the plague, is because Tyler Morgan said he was coming.
I rode with Zach, a good friend from the Dresslerville Washoe reservation, who attends high school with me and my foster brother, Lewis.
Lewis is a study-o-holic. He doesn’t come to these things, but Zach makes it to all the parties. He’s currently homing in on Ella or Bella—some girl from my English class whose name ends with an a, like those of all the popular girls.
Technically mine does too, but if people know me, it’s for the wrong reasons. Bitch and trash have been linked to my name.
“Zach, you look like you’re ready to pounce,” I say. “There is such a thing as finesse. You could chat with the girl. Get to know her.”
Zach cocks his chiseled jaw to the side. “Why would I want to do that? Ruins the mystique.”
For as long as I’ve known him, Zach has kept girls at arm’s length. Emotionally, not physically. The guy gets around. I can’t fault him. I do the same thing—the emotional distancing, not the hookups. That rumor is false.
He tips his chin up. “You okay here? I’m about to get my swerve on.” He flexes his chest. “How are the pecs? Lookin’ good?”
I shake my head. “You’re lame.”
He hugs me in a friendly headlock. “Love ya, Mir. Go hook up or something. It does a body good.”
My shoulders stiffen. He has no idea how close he is to the truth.
Zach gives me a little shake. “Loosen up, girl. You got all tense.”
I share everything with Zach and Lewis. Except my love life. That would just be weird.
Zach’s manwhoring provides hours of banter, but it’s a different story to talk about me and boys. That’s where having guy friends who are like brothers gets iffy.
“Would ya leave already?” His lingering is making me nervous, and I’ve got enough on my mind.
Zach kisses his biceps and winks before striding off, angling his wide shoulders past the bodies crowding the living room.
I peer out, searching for my own quarry.
Since Tyler arrived an hour ago, I’ve been watching him like a stalker chick. Not really my style, but I’m running out of time. He’s leaving in a few weeks for college, and if I don’t make a move now, I’m afraid I’ll lose my chance.
