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I wriggle out of the hug and glance at the boys’ station. My shoulders sink as Parker gives me a thumbs up.
After we get approval from Mr. Thompson, we get underway with the experiment. It’s the best part of class because Yvette gets bored and quietly doodles in her notebook. Unfortunately, something in my process isn’t working. I redo my calculations three times, and struggle to run the experiment.
I slouch, fearing I’ll need to ask Yvette for help.
What has the world come to?
“Are you stuck?” Parker asks, leaning into the aisle.
I huff and brush my hair back. With a pout, I nod.
His smile is effortless, and he slides off his stool. At our workstation, he oversees what I’ve done. Then he views my notebook, running a finger under my handwriting.
“Ah. That’s where you’re tripping up.” He grabs a pen. “May I?”
I shrug with nothing to lose. “Sure.”
He leans in closer, writing in my notebook with his left hand. His breath tickles my earlobe and the nape of my neck, spreading tingles down my arm. I focus on his crooked handwriting and appreciate the logic behind his corrections.
“Thanks.” It comes out hoarse, so I roughly clear my throat. “Uh.” I tap the page, nodding. “Yeah, that looks good.”
Parker drops the pen and pecks my cheek. “Glad I could help.”
He moves away from the table and I’m left stunned. The touch of his lips lingers on my skin. My fingers gently raise to touch the spot, but I’m interrupted by Yvette.
“Do we have the answer now?” she asks eagerly, gripping my forearm. “Geez, maybe he’s the one I should’ve asked for help with chemistry.”
“Yeah, maybe you should have,” I mumble under my breath.
She shrugs with a laugh. “I just thought Lewis was the smart one.”
Yvette stands and sashays over to Lewis.
Beep, beep.
I glance around the room to make sure Mr. Thompson isn’t lurking, and pull my phone from my school skirt pocket. There’s a text from Josie.
“YOU AND PARKER KELLY MADE OUT IN THE CAFETERIA?!?!?!?!”
My heart explodes with thunderous beats. Every vein inside me sizzles with electric jitters. I swallow hard as the churn of my stomach increases in speed.
As I stare hard at her text, more messages rapid-fire into our text chain.
“What the heck, Kylie?”
“You and Parker? This makes no sense!”
“I was certain this was a lie, but everyone is talking about it. Like eye witness accounts.”
“KYLIE!!! Explanation???”
With a headache burrowing into my skull, I reply with,“Tell you everything at the mall.”
She texts back,“You bet you will!!”
A hand slides under mine, pushing my phone toward me. Parker is by my side, covering my phone with a cupped hand.
“Thompson’s on the prowl,” he warns.
