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“Quickly, everyone,” said Beamis. “Quickly. Now that you’re partnered, you will work together over the next six weeks—”
The class erupted in groans, and several girls scrambled to change seats so they could be together.
She and Chris didn’t move for the longest moment.
“Great,” said Chris, his tone flat.
“Sorry,” she snapped. “I’m sure you’d rather be with Monica.”
But Monica looked all too pleased to be partnered with New Kid. Two rows over, Tommy was fuming, sprawled in his chair, completely ignoring his partner Anthony Denton, the scrawny boy who was two years younger than everyone else because he’d skipped a couple grades in elementary school.
“Do you know the new guy?” said Chris. “He keeps looking at you.”
She glanced up in surprise. New Kid was writing in his notebook, not looking anywhere near her.
Chris leaned in. “Earlier.”
Becca looked down and doodled on the corner of her paper, feeling warm. Chris was so close, his voice dark and intimate like it had been in his bedroom the night before.
Her tongue felt tied in knots, so she just shrugged. “Not really.”
He went silent for a while, every now and again copying instructions from the assignment as Beamis outlined the structure of the grading.
He kept his eyes on his paper and said, “Look. If you want to partner with someone else, I get it.”
Did he not want to be with her? “It’s fine,” she said quickly. Then she added, “It’s only six weeks.”
He gave a short, humorless laugh. “I’ll try to suffer through it, too.”
She had no idea what that meant.
A folded piece of paper flew through the air and landed on the center of her book. She jumped.
Tommy Dunleavy was hiding a smirk. Her throat felt tight. Now? Really?
Chris reached out and grabbed it.
“No!” she hissed, trying to take it back. “Give that to—”
Then he had it open in front of him. With their seats so close together, she could read it over his arm.
$5 Sucky sucky?
Gross. She snatched it out of his hands and crumpled it up.
Her cheeks burned. Her eyes weren’t far behind. Seeing the notes privately was bad enough. Having a guy like Chris Merrick read them—right in front of her—was a million times worse.
“Hey. Dunleavy.” Chris’s voice carried a shred of wicked humor.
Tommy looked over his shoulder. His eyes were amused, and a dark smile still hung on the edge of his lips. He sat ready for his efforts to be appreciated. “Yeah?”
Chris took the crumpled ball of paper out of her hands and flung it. “Fuck off.”
Tommy came halfway out of his seat, his hands balled into fists.
Chris came halfway out of his.
“Gentlemen!” Beamis was knocking on his desk, though Becca couldn’t imagine what he expected that to do. Chris hadn’t moved farther; his glare locked on Tommy now.
