Kissing the Shy Guy - Stephanie Street Page 0,15

Lydia's hands fisted at her sides.

"That little weasel! Who is she?" Lydia asked.

Neither of them were in Lakeview Singers and therefore hadn't been witness to the PDA duet earlier.

Bella grabbed my hands. "It's that Laura girl, isn't it?"

I stared at my best friend. "How did you know that?"

Bella shrugged. "They weren't hiding it. I thought you knew."

Lydia rolled her eyes again, clearly exasperated with Bella. "Why didn't you say something?"

Bella suddenly looked worried. This wasn't the first time she'd been the one to see the clues and then not mention it. "I didn't know."

"It's whatever," I reassured her. "It doesn't matter now." And it didn't.

"But he quit the scholarship competition, too? Why?" Bella asked.

"Who cares?" Lydia tossed her long blond hair over one shoulder. "The question we should be asking ourselves is, what are we going to do about it?"

Bella frowned. Most people were under the impression I was the mean one in our little trio—and it was true. But if I was mean, Lydia was downright terrifying.

"About it or him?" I asked.

Lydia shrugged carelessly. "Is there a difference?"

Bella shuddered. "Remind me never to get on your bad side, Lyd. And we need to know why he quit so we can come up with a plan to get him back to help Jenna."

Lydia frowned. "And why exactly would we want to do that? Have you forgotten the part where the jerk cheated on our best friend?"

Bella's shoulders dropped. "Oh, yeah."

"Josh isn't coming back," I said. "But I still need to come up with a plan." And fast.

Lydia shrugged. "You'll just have to find a new partner."

Bella nodded. "That or change to a solo act."

Before I could comment on that, the bell rang for our next class. We each scattered without a word. As I raced down the hall toward my government class, I caught a glimpse of a tall, black-clad figure in no hurry, strolling around the corner.

Adam.

Despite the worry and anger I'd been dealing with for the last twenty-four hours, I couldn't stop thinking about Adam. I told myself it was only because it had been so unexpected, talking to him yesterday, opening myself up. I never did that.

And then there was him. He'd been kind, sweet. Gorgeous. I didn't know what to make of how my heart pounded whenever I remembered the way he'd held me when I cried. Or how good he'd smelled and the way his arms squeezed me close into his chest.

Who was getting gooey now? Which was silly. I didn't even know the guy. I'd probably never speak to him again. Why would I? We went years between talking to each other before. Why should things be any different now? And I didn't want them to be. I didn't have time for a boyfriend. Josh had taught me that. Getting hot and bothered for Adam Smith was dumb. And pointless.

But, wow. Now that he'd come into focus on my radar, he wasn't easy to forget. I knew one thing, if I wanted anyone, it would be Adam.

6

Jenna

"Jenna, honey, can you make sure all the tables have a basket of rolls?" Mom called from the large kitchen at the back of the church.

Heaving an irritated sigh, I rolled my eyes before clicking out of the dummy Instagram account I'd set up to follow my favorite celebrities, then stuffed my phone into the front pocket of my black dress slacks. I called them my funeral pants because I only ever wore them to funerals. You might not think an eighteen-year-old girl who'd never personally known someone who'd died would need a pair of funeral pants, but I did.

"Sure, Mom," I called back. She'd already turned back the ladies from church who'd volunteered to provide and serve lunch for the deceased's family and friends. They'd volunteered, but I hadn't. I never did. Not that it mattered, here I was anyway.

I walked into the large gymnasium of the church building, set up with tables and chairs. I'd covered the tables with white tablecloths when I first arrived and decorated them with small centerpieces of fake flowers from the Dollar Store. Someone else had placed pitchers of ice water and baskets of rolls from a steel rolling cart.

The tables were perfect. Mom just didn't like me messing around on my phone. I reported back that everything looked perfect and then escaped down the long narrow hall to the sanctuary where the funeral was taking place. This one seemed to be going longer than most, but that could just be