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When the coast was clear, he unfolded the triangle.
It was a new piece of paper.
My name is Kate.
Kate. Hunter almost said the name out loud.
What was wrong with him?
It fit her perfectly, though. Short and blunt and somehow indescribably hot.
Another piece of paper landed on his notebook, a small strip rolled up tiny.
This time, there was only a phone number.
Hunter felt like someone had punched him in the stomach and he couldn’t remember how to breathe.
Then he pulled out his cell phone and typed under the desk.
Come here often?
Her response appeared almost immediately.
First timer.
Beamis was facing the classroom now, so Hunter kept his gaze up until it was safe. When he looked back, Kate had written again.
I bet I could strip na**d and this guy wouldn’t even notice.
Hunter’s pulse jumped. But this was easier, looking at the phone instead of into her eyes.
I would notice.
There was a long pause, during which he wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. Then a new text appeared.
I have a theory about boys who picture you na**d before sharing their name.
He smiled.
My name is Hunter. Where you from?
This time, her response appeared immediately.
Just transferred from St. Mary’s in Annapolis.
Now he was imagining her in a little plaid skirt and knee-high socks.
Another text appeared.
Stop imagining me in the outfit.
He grinned.
How did you know?
You’re a boy.
I’m still waiting to hear your theory on piercings.
