new guy.” Harlow shrugged. “Not in any of my classes, but I heard whispers.”
“And you’re only mentioning this now?” I glared at her, but she flipped me off with a sweet smile, and I couldn’t resist smiling back. She entertained my need to know everything, and I distracted our parents from her weird online activities and less than impressive grades.
“He wasn’t in any of my morning classes either.” Mena looked at him over her shoulder. “I think I would’ve noticed that level of hotness.”
“You have a boyfriend.” Harlow laughed and smacked her.
“So? I’m only human. I can look.”
“Amaya.” I cut across their banter. Amaya would’ve already texted me if she’d known about this.
“Already on it.” She was typing furiously on her phone.
New guy closed his locker and walked out of the hallway, heading in the opposite direction of the cafeteria. I didn’t like having him out of my sight, but I chased after no man, and I certainly didn’t change my plans for any.
Looping my arm through Amaya’s so she could continue to text, I led the way into the bright, bustling cafeteria.
Tall windows lined one wall, letting in natural light, with several French doors providing access to a courtyard for alfresco dining. Along with the various seating scattered throughout the space, a lounge area in the back corner housed an assortment of comfy couches and low tables. The full-service food counter was closer to a buffet than a school lunch line and included an espresso station—complete with a full-time barista.
We waited until we were seated at our usual table, trays of sushi and berry parfaits in front of us, before Amaya leaned in to deliver her information.
“His name is Hendrix Hawthorn. He started at Fulton today but spent most of the morning in the office—something about paperwork—which is why no one’s seen him much yet. He moved here from the East Coast, but I can’t seem to get any info on where exactly he transferred from.”
Her fingers tightened around her chopsticks. Amaya liked the lack of information about as much as I did.
“I wonder if he has any friends here,” Mena mused. I left the comment alone for now. I needed to know more about him before I decided how close we would become.
“Hey, girls.” Nicola joined us at our table, her bleach-blonde hair bouncing at her shoulders. She was nice enough, and her mom was a household name due to her film career—as well as a client of Emily Mead Interiors—so she hung around us at school. But she wasn’t a part of my core group. Harlow, Amaya, and Mena were my soul-deep friends.
We greeted her warmly anyway. Within a few minutes, a bunch of other people joined us too, and the new guy was the topic on everyone’s lips. I kept quiet, listening to what everyone else had to say. The girls at the table kept glancing in my direction, waiting to hear what I thought. One negative word from me, and Hendrix Hawthorn would not be getting into the La Perla panties of a single Fulton student.
Unfortunately, I had a feeling I’d have to tackle this one head-on and speak to him directly. There just wasn’t enough information to decide if he was going to be trouble—or if he was worth the trouble.
Before long, the conversation moved on. William complained about Mrs. Watson’s surprise quiz in Calculus, Harlow threw in a completely random fact about the Fibonacci sequence that I had no idea where she’d learned but was positive was correct, Drew loudly and half-jokingly hit on Mena, and half the table reminded him she had a boyfriend.
Business as usual.
Lunch ended, and we dispersed to our next classes. Mulling over the new guy proved to be a good distraction through the afternoon, and I pulled at the waist of my skirt only once, thinking about how I couldn’t wait to change into something very different and go to my dirty little secret. Only a few hours to go.
I was the first one of us girls out at the end of the day, so I threw my bag into the car, put my sunglasses on, and leaned back against the hood to turn my face up to the sky. There was a chill in the breeze, but the sun was driving it away.
Hendrix Hawthorn came striding down the steps as if he owned the place. He looked casual enough, but that neutral mask was still in place, and his Ray-Bans were already over his eyes. Nicola and