Kissing the Shy Guy - Stephanie Street Page 0,26

to inspect my head himself. "No marks," he murmured. "How many fingers am I holding up?" he asked, waving two fingers in front of my eyes.

I batted his hand away. "Stop it. I'm fine," I said, trying to sound fierce. It came out more amused than anything.

Adam smiled. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry? I ran into you."

His smile morphed into a grin, his eyes crinkled at the sides. He kind of took my breath away.

"I'm still sorry you got hurt."

I brushed a bit of imaginary lint from his shoulder. "What are these things made of? Rocks?"

Adam laughed and clapped a hand over the cap of his shoulder, probing. "Not that I can tell."

I didn't know what else to say after that. People swarmed all around us. It crossed my mind to bring up the scholarship and the possibility of him helping me, but this wasn't the place. It also wasn't the time, but I didn't have much time left!

"You sounded good," Adam said softly.

I blinked, not realizing what he was talking about, then I remembered my solo. "Thank you. But what are you doing here?" Good as the choir might be, not many students came to see our concerts unless they had a sibling or boyfriend or girlfriend in the choir.

The thought occurred to me that Adam might be dating one of the girls in choir, and my heart sunk a little. I didn't like the idea of that at all.

Adam gestured over his shoulder with his chin. "My sister, Laura."

Laura? I only knew one Laura in choir. I peeked over his shoulder. Oh, no. It was her—the boyfriend stealing, wench-bag.

"Your sister?" I felt faint.

Laura Smith? But that wasn't right. What was her last name? I couldn't remember.

"We don't have the same last name. She's a Sheridan. Like Diana," he answered without my having to ask.

Holy smokes! The annoying girl was Diana Sheridan's sister! The girl who'd stolen my boyfriend and ruined my chances to win the DIVA scholarship?

Horrified, I met his gaze. And I knew he knew everything.

And just like that, my last hope of winning the scholarship went up in smoke.

11

Adam

Jenna’s eyes widened as she’d looked over my shoulder to see Laura standing with the rest of my family.

“Oh, lord,” she muttered under her breath. I almost laughed at the horrified expression on her face. But then, carefully, deliberately, Jenna pulled herself together.

“Thank you for coming to the concert. Have a nice night.” And then she turned to walk away.

I couldn’t let her go. I didn’t know why, and I didn’t care. I just couldn’t. “Did you decide what to do?” The words came out rushed, so she’d hear them before moving out of earshot in the loud, crowded commons.

Jenna stopped and turned to face me again. “About what?”

I took two steps, closing the distance she’d created between us. “About the scholarship.”

Some expression passed over her face before the shuttered mask she wore most of the time fell back into place. “No,” she said. “I haven’t.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek, not sure what to say next. Some insane part of me felt guilty. A member of my own family had played a role in ruining her project for that scholarship.

What was it about this girl, anyway? It was infuriating. I didn’t want to want her, but couldn’t seem to purge the desire or the responsibility I felt. I had to do something. But what?

“Hey, are you busy?” I asked before I could stop myself.

Jenna blinked. “What? Like now?”

I nodded.

Her eyes searched mine. I didn’t know what she looked for, but she seemed to find it. “Not really. Why?”

It was dumb. I had a million other things going on. School. The band. Guitar practice. I was pretty sure my hair could use a good wash. I had sisters, I knew how to fabricate any number of mindless activities. But did I do that? No.

“Will you come with me?” I asked.

Jenna tilted her head. I tried to keep my expression as open as possible. No doubt, she’d have a hard time trusting anyone in my family, but I had to try.

“Okay. Yeah.”

A wide grin took over my lips. I held out my hand. She hesitated a second before taking it.

“Shouldn’t you say something to your family?” she asked as we wove through the crowd of people still milling around the school commons.

I shook my head. “No. They’re good. What about you? Are your parents here?”

Another inexplicable expression passed over her face. “No. They couldn’t make it.”

I frowned, not