“I see the leg still works.”
Because my heart has usurped all of my brain’s capacities, I don’t speak. I simply stare up at him. When that gets awkward, I whiz my gaze back to the band.
The blue-eyed boy has returned to my side of the stage. As he hops to the beat of a dizzying tune, he shoots me another wink. Or maybehe didn’t wink. Maybe he just has a seriously twitchy eye. Magnesium deficiency will do that to you…
“A friend of yours?” Ten has pulled back up to his full height, features tensed.
“What? Who?”
“The singer.”
“Never seen him before.” I shout-speak over the instrumental din. “I didn’t think you were coming!”
“I wasn’t planning on it.”
“What changed your mind?”
“I heard the food was good.”
I smile. “Ha! The infamous gourmet offerings of Reedwood High homecoming.”
Ten smiles back.
Since I’m guessing he didn’t turn up for the buffet, I ask, “Did your dad make you come?”
“Hestronglysuggested I should attend. Besides, it was either homecoming or another viewing of Nev’s favorite movie.”
“What’s her favorite movie?”
“Grease.”
“Ooh. I loveGrease!”
Ten grins. “Of course you do.”
I flick his chest, then stare at the black fabric of his button-down. What got into me to touch Ten? I ball my fingers and drag them down to my sides, locking them there. “You must really hate it if you picked homecoming.”
A soft chuckle reverberates through the thin space between our bodies. The sound is as surprising as it is beautiful.
“What?” he asks.
“You have a nice laugh.”
“I think that is the first time someone’s complimented my laugh.”
“Maybe because it’s the first time you’ve laughed?”
“That must be it.” He shoots me a crooked grin. He must practice them in front of the mirror because he nails them every time. His gaze lingers on my face and then moves to a spot behind me. “I thought you and your friends were all coming dateless?”
I turn my head and sure enough, Laney’s dancing with Brad alongside Rae and Harrison. “The golden boys of football become irresistible after a win.”
“Should’ve picked football instead of track.” He tips his head to the side. “No football player for you?”
“I’m not into jocks.”
“What sort of boys are you into?” His gaze darts back to the stage. “Musicians?”
“I don’t think I could ever go out with a musician. It would be too explosive, what with all the rivalry and passion.” I touch the little arrow speared through the top of my ear.
