my own dating guide book.
Step 1: Be confident and wear sexy clothes.
Step 2: There is no step two. That’s it.
Step 3: See Step 1.
I had no idea guys were so easy. If I had only known this earlier, I could have saved myself four days. I think about all those teen girl magazines and self-help books and dating gurus who make men out to be so complicated and hard to decipher. I mean, I hoped this new sexy, self-assured temptress thing would work, but I had no idea it would work this well.
Suddenly, there’s a faint alarm going off in my head.
Is it possible this is working too well?
I quickly squash the thought down.
Don’t be ridiculous, Ellie. This is what you wanted. What you’ve been trying to accomplish for four days.
It’s true. This is what I wanted. Exactly what I wanted.
So why do I feel like something’s missing?
Before I have a chance to analyze the thought further, there’s a towering, burly figure hovering over us.
“All right, lovebirds. Break it up.”
I peer up to see Principal Yates glaring down at me. She does a double take at my outfit.
“I would expect more from you, Sparks,” she says before stomping away.
Tristan catches my eye and we both stifle a laugh.
“Don’t you have a speech to give in, like, ten minutes?” he asks, his foot finding mine under the table.
“I thought I’d wing it.”
His eyebrows shoot up.
“What?”
“I’ve dated you for five months, Ellie. You don’t wing things.”
“I can wing things.”
“You’re not a winger.”
I take a sip from my juice. “Well, maybe I’ll surprise you.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see a girl with a tray walking from the food line to a table at the far end of the cafeteria. I know that girl. I saw her yesterday in this very cafeteria. She’s the new girl. The one who gets tripped by Cole Simpson.
Just as the thought enters my mind, I see the scene begin to unfold. Cole, sitting at a table not too far away, nudges one of his buddies, telling him to watch. He positions his foot against his backpack, ready to kick it out in front of her.
My eyes dart to the girl. She’s peering around anxiously, looking for a place to sit. She’s walking right into his trap.
I launch out of my seat. “Hey!” I call, throwing my arms over my head.
Cole gives his backpack a swift kick, it slides across the linoleum floor, stopping right in front of her.
“Hey, you! New girl! Over here!
She stops just inches from tripping over the bag and glances in my direction, confusion etched into her face. Her dark eyes widen, as if to say “Who me?”
“Yeah, you!” I call, still waving frantically like a crazy person. I beckon her over to the table. She turns, barely avoiding Cole’s bag, and heads toward us.
“What are you doing?” Tristan asks, turning to see who I’m waving at.
“Being hospitable.” I smile at the girl, who’s now appeared behind Tristan. “Sit with us.”
She looks delighted and incredibly relieved as she slides onto the bench across from us. My heart swells. Not only did I just save this girl from total social humiliation, but I also provided her with a place to sit—something that is in short supply on your first day of school.
“Hi,” I say cordially. “This is Tristan and I’m Ellie … but, um, some people call me Elle.”
Tristan shoots me a look. “They do?”
I kick him under the table.
“Hi,” the girl says quietly. “I’m Sophia.”
“That’s pretty,” Tristan says, as his eyes graze the length of her body, lingering just slightly too long on her chest.
Okay, what is he doing?
Maybe it wasn’t such a genius idea to invite her over here.
Tristan realizes that I’m shooting daggers with my eyes and quickly clears his throat, returning his gaze to me and plastering on a smile.
Seriously?
I shoot him a pointed look before asking Sophia, “Is this your first day?”
“Yeah.”
“Where’d you move from?”
“Los Angeles.”
“No way!” Tristan says. “What was that like?”
She sighs. “Crazytown.”
“I need to get out there,” he says emphatically. “I’m a musician, and as you know, L.A. is like the music scene.”
“Yeah, I know. My dad is a studio engineer at Capitol Records.”
I think Tristan just had a heart attack. He’s grabbing his chest like he’s about to keel over. “Your dad? Works for Capitol Records?”
She nods. “He’s still out there. My parents just got divorced and my mom moved us here. I guess she grew up around here or something.”
Tristan dons his sad