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“You know,” said Chris, “I had to listen to a raft of crap from Becca about the things you said to Quinn, but I know you ”
“Boo-hoo.” Gabriel yanked the zipper closed. “I’m sorry I interfered in your love life.”
Chris sighed and shrugged his backpack onto his shoulder.
“All right. Forget it. Sorry for caring.”
“Oh, is that what you’re doing?”
“Not anymore.” Chris rounded the bank of lockers.
Gabriel wanted to punch something.
Maybe he could go find Ryan Stacey.
But then Chris reappeared. He threw a glance at the wall that separated the lockers from the shower room. “Who’s his sister?”
Gabriel looked back in his bag and kept his voice nonchalant.
“Just a girl in my math class.”
“Just a girl, huh?”
Gabriel glared at him. “Just a girl.”
Chris smiled. “So was Becca.”
Layne sat at her desk, waiting for class to begin. She’d started working through the problems at the end of the next unit, desperate for something that would make her look busy.
Unfortunately, her brain wouldn’t think about numbers. It was all too content to replay the feel of Gabriel’s hands at her waist. His breath against her hair. He wasn’t even sitting beside her yet, and her mind was already scripting PG-13 fantasies.
No, probably just PG. She’d never even kissed a boy, much less anything else.
Thank god she’d been wearing that jacket.
And he’d pushed her away, anyway. She might as well scrap the fantasies.
Layne knew the instant he walked into the room. She could feel his eyes find her, so she kept her own on the paper.
Write. Look busy.
But out of the corner of her eye, she watched him drop a piece of paper in the homework basket.
He’d done it. Had he found someone else to help him cheat?
Someone snickered to her left. “Working ahead, lesbo?”
Taylor, sitting backward on her desk, probably waiting for Gabriel. Layne sighed and ignored her.
“You know,” said Taylor, “maybe if you spent five minutes looking in a mirror, you wouldn’t look like such a loser nerd.”
Layne looked up. “Maybe if you spent five minutes less looking in a mirror, you wouldn’t look like such a prostitute.”
Half the class caught its breath. Layne could hear it, the anticipation, the eagerness for Taylor to snap.
Part of her wanted to suck the words back, to reverse time ten seconds.
The other part wanted to finish up the comment by stabbing Taylor with her pencil.
