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He definitely said what.
Did he mean who?
I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. “I’m Henley Stone.”
He continues to look at me, not saying a word. He just stares like he’s expecting me to say something else.
I shift my weight from one leg to the other. “Uh, who are you?”
“Parker Throne.”
Parker.
My heart skips a beat.
Parker’s eyebrow ticks up as he looks at me. I wonder what the look is about when my stomach growls again. My cheeks grow warm.
“You should eat.” Parker motions toward the door. “The food really isn’t all that bad here.”
My stomach churns as I look at the door, shaking my head. “No. I can’t. If I go in there, I’ll just end up puking again.”
He nods, like he’s not sure what to make of me. “But you probably need the calories.”
I shrug. “I’ll survive. I’ve gone a week without eating a few times. I survived then, I can survive without one meal.”
Apparently I won’t be eating lunch at all during senior year, not if it’s going to be like that.
Parker studies me, like he’s trying to read me. It makes me wonder if there are other people like me—mind readers. I sincerely hope he can’t read my mind or else he would know how attracted to him I am. That would be tragic.
Since he studies me, I take the time to do the same to him.
Parker is tall—like my dad. He’s well over six feet tall. And I’m not short by any standard—I’m 5’7”—but I definitely feel short next to him.
He’s got dark brown hair that has a slight curl to it. I want to touch it and see if it’s as soft as it looks. My hand twitches, like it wants to reach up, but I keep it firmly at my side. I can’t just touch a stranger. That would be weird. Well… weirder than my normal weird. And I want this boy to like me.
“Is everybody going to be obsessed with me for long?” I ask, nodding toward the cafeteria. “I don’t think I can handle all that attention.”
He shrugs, then nods. “I wouldn’t count on them being less obsessed with you. There hasn’t been a new kid here since the seventh grade.”
Great…
He crosses his arms over his chest. “You look like the kind of girl who is used to getting attention.”
My eyes widen.
Isthatwhat he thinks of me?
“What about your old school?” he asks.
“I was homeschooled,” I admit.
His body perks up. “Really?”
I nod, not knowing what to think of him.
“I’ve tried to talk my dad into homeschooling. He thinks the pack needs to learn how to interact with…” he pauses, looking at me, “uh, normal people.”
I snort. “Normal? Somebody should tell him normal doesn’t exist in high school.”
