English ended up being the only class that I had with Logan, thankfully. But apparently, that was the only nice thing the school secretary had done for me, because Jace, sadly, wasn't in any of my classes. I barely even saw him at school.

Alyssa, on the other hand, got to sit right next to him during U.S. History. But she told me that he mostly just took his notes quietly, so she said I wasn't missing much, really.

"It's like he's mad at me or something," Alyssa said to me Friday as we warmed up before the boys’ basketball game. "Trey says he's been acting weird around him, too. It makes me wonder if Jace and Logan switched personalities when they moved to North Carolina because Logan has been way nicer to me than he used to be."

I finished my round of jumping jacks and sat on the dance lab's wood floor to stretch. "You think Logan's nice?"

Alyssa sat across from me. We put our feet together, clasped our hands, and she pulled me closer to her to give my hamstrings a good stretch. "I didn't say he was nice, just nicer." She shrugged. "But he does seem different than he used to be. He doesn't seem as mad at the world, anyway."

I thought about it. We had talked a few times in English class this week and he’d been unusually pleasant. I'd assumed he was just getting a head start on practicing being nice to me at the dance next Saturday, but maybe it was more than that.

Was it possible that Logan had really figured out how to be kind?

We finished our warm-up a few minutes later and grabbed our pompoms so we could head across the hall to the gym.

Alyssa and I were just walking through the door when Logan stopped me. "Hey, can I talk to you for a minute?"

I looked at the scoreboard. The game was set to start in twenty minutes. There were already a bunch of fans and students in the bleachers, watching the varsity team warm up on the floor.

"Okay."

He pulled me back into the hall where it was quieter. "Did you get your dress for the dance yet?"

"Yeah, why?" As soon as my mom found out I was going with a guy instead of by myself, she'd taken me shopping that very afternoon.

"I was gonna go shopping tomorrow to find a tie that matches."

"Oh," I said, surprised that Logan would even think about that kind of thing. He seemed like the kind of guy who would tell a girl that he was wearing what he wanted and getting all matchy-matchy took away his freedom of expression.

At least that was what the old Logan would do.

"So what color is your dress?"

"It's white and pink." It had a white lace-embellished bodice and a full pink skirt to be exact, but I doubted Logan cared about those details. He was a guy, after all.

"Pink?" he frowned. "Did you pick pink just so I'd be forced to wear a pink tie?"

I laughed. "No, I actually wasn't thinking about you when I picked it. I picked it because I look good in it."

He raised his eyebrow. "Oh, you do?"

I felt myself blush. "Yes."

"Lucky me."

And I don't know why I hadn't put it together before, but I suddenly realized that Logan and I were going to a dance together. Which meant, I'd have to dance with him.

Butterflies erupted in my stomach at the thought.

But I urged the butterflies to go back to sleep. I shouldn't be excited to dance with Logan.

When I didn't say anything, he asked, "Could you send me a picture, so I don't pick the wrong tie?"

"And ruin the surprise when you pick me up?" Wasn't there some sort of rule about that?

Wait no, that was just weddings. And Logan and I were about the last people on earth who would ever wind up married someday.

"Well, you don't want me to get a shade of pink that clashes, do you?"

"No."

"You could always just send a pic of a part of the skirt."

I nodded. "Okay." When I started to walk back to the gym, he touched my shoulder to stop me. I turned around. "What?"

He cleared his throat. "You forgot to get my number."

I furrowed my brow. "Why would I need your phone number?"

"So you can text me the photo."

"Oh." Realization dawned on me. "Well, my phone is in my cheer bag, so I don't have it with me."

He pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Here, just put your number in mine and I can text you my number."

I transferred my pompoms into my left hand and took his phone. When I pushed the button, a photo of a mountain with the words "One day at a time" showed up on the lock screen.

Logan's gaze instantly flicked to his lit-up screen. "Sorry, I must not have unlocked it." He quickly took it back as if embarrassed that I'd seen the quote. He handed it back a second later, and I found his contacts and added my name and number.

"Just don't send me any weird texts." I handed his phone back to him.

"You wish."

I was working on my U.S. History homework the next morning when my phone buzzed with a text.

Logan: I know you wanted to keep your dress a secret but while our personalities already clash, I don't think our formal wear needs to.

I put my hand to my head. I'd completely forgotten to send him a photo of my dress last night. So I went to my closet to take a picture of the fabric really quick.

I pressed on the photo and uploaded it in a message with the words, "here you go."

I set my phone face down on my desk so I could get back to my homework. It buzzed a second later.

Logan: I'm not very good at matching clothes. Do you want to just help me pick the tie?

What?

Logan: Please.

Since when did Logan learn to say please?

And why did he want to spend time with me?

I looked at my planner. I didn't have any other homework besides this one. I guess I had the time.

Plus, it would only make us look bad in front of the whole cheer squad if our outfits clashed next weekend.

So I texted him back.

Me: Let me eat some lunch and then I can go.

Logan: Do you like Cafe Amore?

I furrowed my brow. Why did he want to know that?

Me: Never been there. Why?

Logan: I was planning to eat there. It's right next to the place where my dad used to get his suits. We can eat then shop.

Was Logan asking me on a lunch date?

I shook my head. It was best if I didn't try to figure him out. That boy was just confusing.

But since I loved eating out and trying new foods, I went against my better judgement and texted him back.

Sounds good.

Logan picked me up in his Corvette thirty minutes later. He looked like he'd just showered, and I couldn't help but notice how good he smelled when I sat in his car. He didn't look so bad, either. But I figured that when you were a Carmichael, you'd actually have to try to look bad to make it happen.

He pulled onto the road and started heading toward the center of town.

"Is that a different hat?" I asked after giving him an inspection and noticing his blue New York Yankees baseball hat. He'd worn a green one last week.

He ran a hand over it. "Yeah, this is my out-on-the-town hat." His smirk told me he was joking, and it was funny to think about him accessorizing his hats based on what he was doing each day.

"Does that mean you have hats for other occasions?"

He nodded. "Of course. There's my studying-for-a-test hat. My going-to-pick-up-a-girl hat. My hiding-from-the-paparazzi hat."

"You're joking, right?"

He took his focus off the road to glance at me. "Mostly joking."

"So does that mean you're not just being even lazier about your hair?"

"Me lazy? Never." He winked, and my heart did a little blip in my chest.

Strange.

"Okay, so then what is that blue hat for again?"

He shrugged. "It's my 'show Raven Rodgers that I can actually be a nice guy' hat."

I laughed. "And does it work?"

"I guess we'll find out by the end of the afternoon, won't we?"

He pulled into one of the shopping malls a few minutes later and parked. Logan led me toward a shop with the sign "Cafe Amore" above it.

The bell on the door jingled as we walked into Cafe Amore.

I couldn't believe I'd never noticed this place before. From the outside it looked a little run-down, but when we walked inside, the ambiance was really nice.

There was a Christmas tree in one corner and a garland lining the front counter. Twinkling lights were draped across the high ceiling, which added a super cozy feeling to the room.

"I've been craving this place since we moved to Sweet Water. Have you really never eaten here?" Logan asked as we got in line to order our food.

"Nope."

He gave me a puzzled expression, like he was trying to figure out if I'd lived in some alternate version of Ridgewater all these years, but he didn't say anything about it. Instead, he said, "Well, the menu is just up there." He pointed to the wall behind the cashier that had printed white papers stapled to a cork board. "It's not the fanciest place, but as long as it hasn't changed too much since I've been gone, whatever they lack in atmosphere they make up for with the actual food.”

"I'll let the food speak for itself." I scanned the menu. "So what's the best thing they have here?"

His gaze ran over the menu as if trying to figure out which of the dishes I might like. Then he shrugged. "I really like the Italian club sandwich with the pub salad."

I wrinkled my nose. "I don't feel like a sandwich or a salad. Do they have pasta?"

"Yeah." He looked around the wall for a moment before pointing to the right side. "The pasta choices are there."

I pressed my lips together and checked the list. Three-cheese penne, fettuccine Alfredo, and the classic lasagna among other choices. "Is there a certain dish you’d recommend?"

He eyed the menu again before turning to me with a bashful look on his face. "Now that I think about it, I've only ever ordered the Italian club sandwich and the pub salad when I've been here."

"This is your favorite restaurant and yet you've only tried one thing on the menu?" Now it was my turn to look at him like he was an alien. "That's ridiculous! You know that, right?"

He shrugged his broad shoulders. "I guess I found something that I liked and decided I was happy with it."

"You're funny, Logan." To think I thought he was a bad boy all these years. If he wasn't daring enough to try new foods, how bad could he even be? "Think you want to try something new today?"

He shook his head. "Nope, I'm good with the regular. I haven't been here in a year and a half, so I think it's okay if I get something that I know I'm going to like."

I folded my arms and turned back to the menu. "To think all these years I thought you were the adventurous twin."

He pouted. "I am adventurous. I mean, I'm taking you to a dance next week. What's more adventurous than that?"

"Getting that redhead's number last week would have been the real adventurous thing to do."

"Ha-ha, Raven. You're soooo funny." Then he said, "Fine. You want me to prove to you how adventurous I am?"

I nodded, my interest piqued at what he was going to suggest. "Yes."

"I'll let you choose my order for me."

"You trust me to order your food?" I raised my eyebrows, surprised. "You are brave."

He lifted a shoulder. "Just don't tell them to add any poison to it, okay?" He held a fifty-dollar bill out to me. "And so I'm not tempted to commandeer the order, I'll go find us a table and be surprised when the waitress brings it."

I looked at the money. He carried fifty-dollar bills with him? I understood tens, and twenties, but fifties?

I took the money. "Any drink requests?"

He took a step back. "Surprise me."

"Okay."

Then a thought seemed to occur to him. "But promise you aren't going to purposely order me something nasty, okay?" He held up a pinky. I shook my head but linked pinkies with him, anyway.

"I promise. It will be something that I think sounds good, at least."

He smiled, glancing down at our hands for a moment. Then he raised his gaze back to mine and there was something in his eyes that hadn't been there before.

Could he feel something every time we did that, too?

I let my hand drop back to my side before I could think too much about it. "I'll come find you in a minute."