“I’ll save you a seat,” Rae says to me.
Once they’re gone, I start toward the registrar’s department, a modern wing made entirely of glass that houses the administrative desks and the principal’s office. Only one other person is waiting for their schedule this late.
Jasper leans against the secretary’s desk. “If it isn’t my all-time favorite singer,” he says to me.
I roll my eyes. “You’ve never even heard me sing.”
“That’s not for lack of tryin’.” He rakes his fingers through his sideswept golden bangs.
“I don’t sing in public.”
“You’re aware that if you want to be a singer someday, Conrad, you’ll have to sing in front of people?”
“I’m not ready yet.”
He shoots me a sly smile. “Can I get a private showcase when youareready?”
“I don’t do private showcases.”
“You wouldn’t even have to sing,” he says in a low voice.
My pulse trips.
The secretary hands him a sheet of yellow paper, then asks for my name. The enormous printer behind her roars to life and spits out another piece of yellow paper.
Jasper skims his schedule, then stuffs it in the pocket of his khakis. “What class do you have?”
“Calculus with Mrs. Dabbs. You?”
“History.”
“Rae and Mel have history too.”
“I’d ratheryouhad history.”
I blink at him, then blink down at my schedule, because I’m not sure what to do with that comment. Jasper and I have been friends for almost as long as Rae and I. Granted, we’re not as close, but still… I fold and refold my schedule until it’s no larger than a mosaic tile.
“Angela, Jasper.” Principal Larue chirps our names.
I turn, ready to apologize for being late, but the words stick to my tongue. Next to her stands the beast who ran me over.
Okay, he didn’t run me over, but it was a close call.
The principal smiles up at him. “I’d like you to meet our newest student.”
“Welcome to Reedwood, dude,” Jasper says.
The beast nods, rolling his white button-down’s sleeves to the elbows, revealing tanned forearms with ropy lean muscle. I bet the rest of his body is just as nice… Not that I’m interested in the rest of his body. Or anyone else’s body, for that matter.
I zip my gaze off him and set it on the principal, who’s traded in her signature permed hair for a funky new hairstyle—a short Afro adorned with a silk scarf that makes her look a decade younger.
“Would you be so kind as to show Tennessee to his classroom, Angela?”
“Me?” Since I forgot to replenish my depleted supply of oxygen, it comes out as a squeak.
Nice.
The beast… I mean,Tennessee, presses his lips together so tightly that his stubble-coated jaw tics. I still can’t get over the fact that he goes to my school. Let alone tohighschool.
