He watched her. When he made no effort to break the ice with conversation, she took the initiative.
She let her gaze drop, unable to look at him—his gaze was so intense—and got on with it. “Okay, I get it. You don’t like me. Join the club. But we have an assignment, and I can’t afford a zero, so—”
Before she got another word out, he slid the paper out of her hand, turned it over, and wrote on the back. When he finished, he handed it to her and waited.
She read the phone number. “Is this your cell?”
He nodded, then asked, “Why don’t I like you?” His voice was smooth and deep, and it did the same things to her it had before when he was reading the poem.
“Because I called the cops at the lake.”
His lids narrowed as though trying to figure her out.
“That’s what everyone thinks, anyway.”
He handed her his paper. She turned it over and wrote her number on the back, her hand shaking slightly.
“Do I make you nervous?” he asked.
She scowled at him.
For the first time, he let a grin slide across his face. The effect was nothing short of spectacular.
She cleared her throat and went back to writing. Or she would have if she hadn’t completely forgotten her address. Panic surged inside her. As did her grasp on reality, apparently.
“Why are you shaking?”
This was getting ridiculous. She lived on Solaris Drive. She knew that much. “Oh, you know. That’s what happens when the whole school is out to get even with the narc.”
“Ah.”
She gave up and handed the paper back to him. “How about I just come to you?”
“You live behind your grandparents’ house, right?”
How did he know that? “Yes.”
He handed the paper back. “One eleven.”
“What?”
One corner of his mouth tilted. “Your new address. It’s 111 Solaris Drive.” When she gaped at him, he raised a hand in surrender. “I helped build it. You’re all your grandparents talk about.”
She felt her cheeks warm as she wrote down her address for reasons she couldn’t fathom. He knew it better than she did.
“Do you have any afternoons free this week?” she asked. When he didn’t answer, she looked up at him.
After a long moment, he said, “Every single one.”
The way he said it caused a tingling sensation in her stomach.
“Hi!”
Auri started and looked up at the blonde standing beside them.
“I’m Chastity. We met this summer, but you probably don’t remember. That’s okay, though. I’m horrible with names, too. I’m much better with faces. I have to do something to associate a name with a face. Like with yours. Your hair is like a sunrise, so now I remember it. Aurora. But everyone calls you Auri. I remember that part without a mnemonic device.”
Cruz hadn’t bothered giving Chastity even an ounce of his attention. It was all focused on Auri, and she was trying to figure out why. Was this a joke? Was she being punked? He’d been furious with her when the principal came during first period. Why was he being so nice now?
“I remember,” was all Auri got in before Chastity started anew. Thankfully, the bell rang so the girl could catch her breath.
When Cruz stood, he purposely blocked Chastity’s view of her, effectively dismissing the poor girl. Not everyone had mastered social skills.
Auri stood and slid her backpack over her shoulders, a tad grateful for his intervention. Chastity would take some getting used to.
Some boys passed by and patted Cruz on the back or shoulder, promising to see him later. He barely acknowledged them. It was as though he were an unwilling member of the popular clique. Auri had never seen anything like it. He took her schedule, scanned it, then walked with her to the hall where she saw her newest frenemies.
No, that wasn’t true. In order for Lynelle and her group to be called frenemies, they would have to have been nice to her at some point. So not the case.
If the glowers from Lynelle and the gang had been bad before, she’d just earned their eternal wrath. Their expressions, especially Lynelle’s, when they saw her walking with Cruz were at first shock and then cold, calculating anger.
Maybe Lynelle had a thing for Cruz, but she had a boy by her side everywhere she went. Liam Eaton. The rich jock who spent his summers in Paris and, according to rumor, had a Porsche waiting for him when he turned sixteen next year.
Maybe Lynelle and Liam were just friends. Either way, Auri had a feeling