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The day we met.
“You’re hard to forget.” As soon as the words are out, I wish I could shove them back into my mouth.
“I didn’t think you knew what a compliment was, Matthews.”
“I didn’t say it was a good thing, Winters.”
We reach the library with an uneasy truce hanging between us. As expected, Mr. Gibbs is the only person in sight. He gives me the same nod of greeting as every other time I’ve entered this library before turning back to whatever book he’s reading.
I head straight toward my usual table. Caleb follows, taking the seat across from me as I pull out the study guide I made for my Oceanography test.
I’m shocked he’s sitting with me. It’s not like there aren’t other seats available. But I try not to show it. I focus on my notes instead.
Motion across the table draws my attention back to Caleb. I watch him pull a binder out of his backpack and begin flipping through the pages.
My gaze drops back down to my own papers, but I glance up again just a few minutes later.
Caleb is attractive. I’ve always known that. I’ve heard the admiring whispers when he walks down the hall. But I don’t typically allow myself to focus on the way his dark hair falls across his forehead or to think about how straight the line of his jaw is when we’re arguing. Unfortunately, there’s nothing to distract me from either of those things in the silent, empty library.
Except for the blaze of embarrassment when he glances up and catches me staring at him. “What?” he whispers, looking at me curiously.
“Nothing,” I reply hastily, dropping my eyes back down to the study guide in front of me.
I don’t let my eyes wander again until the first bell rings, signaling the start of homeroom in five minutes. I continue to avoid looking at Caleb as I pack up my belongings and stand.
Based on the shuffling sounds coming from the opposite side of the table, he’s doing the same.
“I’ll do the interview with Simon, if you want.”
“What?” I freeze, then glance at Caleb. It’s not what I expected him to say. And, I’m surprised to realize, not something I’m thrilled to hear.
“I’ll do the interview with Simon. If you want me to,” he repeats.
“Is that what you want?” I ask.
“After everything it took to get you to agree to do it in the first place?” Caleb raises a brow as he looks at me expectantly.
And I have a stroke. Or a brain freeze. Or some other impediment that stops me from telling Caleb there’s nothing else I’d love more thannothaving to write an article about him.
“I’ll talk to Simon…and get some better questions for a follow-up interview,” I tell Caleb as we walk out the doors from the library.
I’m not a quitter.
The hallways aren’t crowded, but other students are trickling in, and we attract more than a few double takes as people pass us by.
“I’ll, uh, I’ll see you in English,” I say as we linger just outside the library doors.
Something between me and Caleb suddenly feels tenuous. Off-kilter. The easy annoyance that’s always hovered between us has vanished.
Caleb opens his mouth to reply.
“Lennon!” I turn to see Will walking down the hallway in our direction. “Morning,” he greets cheerfully, grinning at me.
“Hey, Will.” I smile back.
Will seems to notice who I’m standing with for the first time. “Hey, Winters,” he greets, a hint of surprise in his voice.
“Masterson,” Caleb replies, sounding bored. “I’ll see you later, Lennon.”
