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CHAPTER 29
Chris sucked it up and went to class on Wednesday. He hauled ass to make it to the room before Becca, but now he was doodling in his notebook, fighting not to fidget. He sketched a rather impressive pyramid before deciding it made him look like a complete tool. So he flipped to a clean page.
The Guide seemed to be lying low since they’d chased him off at the bridge—or maybe he was plotting something bigger. Whichever, they’d had a peaceful night—or as peaceful as it could be with Michael and Gabriel walking a razor edge of tension all evening. Once darkness fell and his brothers settled, Chris had relished the silence, replaying every moment of that scene in front of the bleachers.
Becca had come walking across the field, looking like a loud noise would send her bolting for safety. But she’d kept her head up and her pace even, determined as ever.
No, not determined. Brave.
She’d punched Gabriel right in the face—something Chris wasn’t sure he’d try himself. Even before that, she’d stood up to Tyler and Seth—had saved Chris without knowing the stakes. He couldn’t remember two words he’d spoken to Becca before that mess in the parking lot. Now he couldn’t make himself forget a single thing about her.
Seeing her tears on the field had almost been his undoing. He’d wanted to hold her. No, he’d wanted to kill Drew and anyone else who’d laid a hand on her. That guy was lucky Gabriel got to him first.
But no, Chris had just sat there and watched. He could kick himself.
He should have talked to her, after. He should have walked her to her car. Called her last night to check on her.
What had she said about Hunter? I was scared, and he came over.
Would she have wanted Chris to call?
Any minute now she was going to come strolling in here with Hunter. She’d sit down, smelling like almonds and vanilla, and Chris would pretend he didn’t notice. She’d think about World History.
He’d think about her.
God, he was going to drive himself crazy. He looked down at his notebook. He’d drawn a spiral, pressing so hard that the pen was going through the paper.
But wait—hadn’t she asked for a new partner? So she wasn’t going to sit next to him at all. Someone else would drop into the empty seat, and he’d obsess over Becca from across the room.
That would probably be better.
Chris felt the air move as someone stopped next to his desk. He swung his head around as Becca slid into the seat beside him.
“I thought you switched partners,” he exclaimed, before realizing he sounded a bit too frigging excited.
“Beamis wouldn’t let me.”
Oh. That explained it.
Chris flipped to another page in his notebook while she pulled her textbook from her bag. Had she walked in with Hunter? Chris hadn’t been paying attention—and the new guy was already in his seat, staring at the board.
He had no idea what to say, so he pretended to listen as Mr. Beamis called the class to order.
“Here,” Becca whispered, pushing a piece of paper his way.
Chris glanced down. The notebook paper was covered in her handwriting, careful cursive that looked nothing like the big bubble letters of the girly-girl set. Had she written him a letter? His heart tripped before catching itself. Then he read the words.
Class notes.
Figures. This was probably a subtle reminder not to cut.
“Thanks,” he murmured. “I’ll copy them and get these back to you.”
“They’re yours,” she said. “I took two sets so you wouldn’t miss anything.”
He swung his head around. She wasn’t looking at him, but her cheeks were faintly pink.
“Thanks,” he said again. He hesitated, then leaned the tiniest bit closer. Almonds, vanilla, torture. “You know, you didn’t have to—”
