“I’m not some piece of meat,” Hardy says loudly enough for us and many other nearby students to hear. “I’m more than just this hot body, you know.”
As we make our getaway, Hardy stays behind to talk to some nearby guyslaughing at him.
“Are you ever going to put that poor guy out of his misery?” I ask. “He’s only been in love with you since sophomore year.” The blush returns, but she doesn’t say anything. “Would it be so bad to try?”
“And then have to worry about two people I care about leaving when we graduate in May? No, thank you.”
It’s a sore spot that I didn’t even realize was there and I keep my mouth shut as we walk under the brick arch entrance of the fine arts building.
Once inside, my eyes close in bliss as the air conditioning hits us. Someone bumps into me as they push by. “Feel like letting the rest of us in, Adams?”
My muscles tense. The mere sound of Connor’s voice is enough to raise all the hairs on my arms, but actually touching me? It makes me want to run to the gym locker room and scrub my body to rid myself of his germs. I open my mouth to tell him exactly what he can do with himself but feel Lily’s hand on my arm.
“It’s not worth it,” she says.
Against my better judgment, I clamp my mouth shut as he and his stupid brown hair disappear down the hall and into the auditorium. Using the bottom of my shirt, I wipe the Connor off of my skin. “I just hate him so much. He thinks he’s so great because he got student class president even though it was a total popularity contest. And?—”
“And,” Lily cuts me off, “he is not going to be this year’s valedictorian. He is not going to be the Citrus Scholar. So, let him be a jerk to you in the hallway, and let it go. In the end, it doesn’t really matter, right?”
Of course it matters. Just because I’m going to win doesn’t make it okay for Connor to be rude in the meantime. I’ve spent the last three years on the receiving end of his wrath for something I didn’t do, and Lily knows just how hard that has been. She’s also freaking out about senior year, and I don’t want to make things worse.
I release a long breath. “I guess you’re right.”
“I’m always right,” she says cheerfully. “Let’s just keep moving so we don’t make anyone else upset and find a seat inside.”
2
MOST POPULAR
That girlreally has a way of getting under my skin.
The logical part of my brain knows that she wasn’t standing in the middle of the hallway that long, and I know I could have easily walked around her. But one look at her, and I lost it.
Her normally straight blonde hair was curling at the ends. Her pale skin flushed. Her posture relaxed. It was in such contrast to her normal nerdy girl vibe. She looked truly happy—and I know why.
After three long years of going back and forth with Ella Adams for valedictorian, I’ve lost. There’s nothing I can do. And I mean nothing. I could get perfect scores in all of my classes this year, and there’s still no chance of me getting past her 4.6. All because she fights dirty.
Ella convinced Dr. Freck to let her take an online AP class that wasn’t even offered at Citrus Prep—something no one in school history has done. When I realized whatshe was doing, it was too late to sign up. And guess who had a change of heart and decided no one should be allowed to take special AP classes this year? Our dear ol’ headmaster.
So, yeah. I’ll be coming in as the salutatorian.
Most people would be proud of that accomplishment. Heck, mostparentswould be proud of that accomplishment, but not mine. Every one of my siblings before me has been valedictorian. It’s an expectation that has been beaten into our heads from those first days of kindergarten.
I’ll be the first not to do it.
And after what her dad did to our family business, losing to Ella will make it worse. It will be another instance of the Williamses getting robbed by an Adams—this time in the form of the Citrus Scholar. My mom might have a literal mental breakdown.
As I stand on the perimeter of the auditorium, I know I’m expected to sit in the front row with the rest of the student government. It’s meant to send a message to the rest of the student body:Look at how the students you elected into leadership roles love school. You should love school, too.
I didn’t even want the role; I just didn’t want Ella to get it. The only reason I hung posters and made a speech full of empty promises was because I found out she was running, and I knew I could beat her. That, and Ava, the girl running for vice president, is cute. I thought working with her senior year might not be so bad.
Then we met over summer break, and I realized justhow seriously Ava takes student government. She has a color-coded binder full of all the policy changes she hopes to accomplish this year. I don’t have the energy to pretend that any of her resolutions are going to get anywhere.
I sigh and run my hand through my hair. Then I see Hardy walk into the auditorium. Regardless of his friendship with the Devil’s daughter, we’re also friends. We play lacrosse together, and he’s a great attacker. Sitting with him is a much better option than next to Ava.
“Wanna grab a seat back here?” I ask. There are a few empty ones in the middle of the row we’re standing by.
“Sure, but you don’t need to be up there?” He jerks his chin toward the front row.
