37

It seemed like I blinked and it was time for the Templeton hockey game. Nick, Mindy, and Charlie went to the actual game together. I was too afraid of getting called into the Busted Bitch spotlight the way I had at the football game, so TJ and I planned to meet them at Fred’s Burgers afterward.

We arrived early, slipping into a booth in the most out-of-the-way corner of the restaurant. Nick would text us when the game let out, and then I’d make my way to the counter at the front, where Mindy would join me and act like we’d met up by some happy accident. Charlie, Nick, and TJ would wait in the back booth until I signaled them to meet me in the parking lot. If Hockey Chris knew Charlie was standing trial for the cheating ring and he really was a part of it, we didn’t want to give any indication that Charlie and I were together, let alone friends.

I got one more spaz-text from Kendall as the ice cream sundae I’d ordered arrived: Are you seeing TJ tonight?

I glanced at TJ, who sat across from me in a hooded sweatshirt, sipping a Styrofoam cup of tea. Leave it to him to order tea at a burger joint. I took great pleasure in writing back, yes.

“So,” I said as I put my phone away. “You kind of killed the messenger the other day when I told you about Jordan and Kendall.”

TJ shifted in his seat. “I didn’t mean to. I just needed some time is all.”

“I figured. That’s why I haven’t bothered you since we talked, but I really need to know—what do you think of all this?”

TJ folded his fingers together and ran his thumbs back and forth over his lips. A simple, absent gesture that made my own mouth go dry. “I think,” he said, “that you really can’t trust anyone.”

I deflated. He still didn’t trust me either. “That’s not true. You can’t let one bad experience ruin everything.”

He raised an eyebrow. “One bad experience?”

I fidgeted. “Or two or three.”

“If you really believed that, you would’ve gone to the game tonight instead of holing up at home and you wouldn’t be wearing glasses and hiding behind your hair right now.”

“Ha! Says the boy channeling the freaking Green Arrow with a hood that’s about to swallow his head? I need to look different than I did in the promposal video—the less he associates me with it, the better our chances of getting what we need.”

TJ pulled his hood closer to his face. “Exactly.”

I sat up straighter. We were talking in circles, but I couldn’t let him win this argument. “Fine. After tonight, I’m not going to let the website or anything that happened because of it bother me. No more hiding out like a coward. Kendall Keene is not going to get the better of me, and you shouldn’t let her either. From now on, we look forward, not back. What do you think?”

For a second, our eyes locked. Then both our phones buzzed.

“They’re on their way,” he said, eyeing his screen. “Should be here in ten minutes.”

I took a deep breath as my stomach lurched. The ice cream sundae suddenly seemed like a really dumb idea. I set down my spoon. Maybe it was nerves, but I couldn’t stop making our conversation as uncomfortable as possible.

“So, the winter formal. I know you’re not going with me, but you’re still going, right?”

“No way,” he said without hesitating. “People will throw eggs at us if we walk in like nothing happened.”

“We’re on Kendall’s turf right now and no one is throwing eggs! She took down the website, you know.”

“Yeah, after she got the whole world to believe we freaking victimized her. I can’t go from one class to the next without getting dirty looks from at least three girls. And I wasn’t going to tell you this, but someone posted your number in one of the boys’ bathrooms. I had to black it out with permanent marker.”

The blood drained from my face. “What did it say?”

TJ grimaced. “Nothing nice. Or true.”

I sank into my seat. No wonder I’d been getting so many prank calls. People really knew how to take things way too far.

A second later though, my resolve returned. “I don’t care.” I sat up straight. “Like you said, none of it is true. Hiding out is only going to make us look guilty.” I took off my glasses and threw them in my purse. “I have nothing to hide.”

I picked at the stem of the sundae’s cherry, waffling over whether or not I wanted to ask my next question. I decided to go for it. “How did you wind up as part of that promposal anyway? It’s so not you.”

He slouched in the booth and put his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt. “Maybe not the dancing part, but that’s why I stayed in the car. I wanted to ask you to the dance, but I didn’t know how to do it. I’ve kept a low profile ever since Templeton accused me of cheating, but I was afraid I’d started crossing the line from self-preservation to hermit. So when Kevin asked if I wanted in, I said yes.” He forced half his mouth into a smile. “So much for trying to branch out. That’s what I get for being social.”

“Come on, TJ. Anyone who matters knows you didn’t cheat. How long can you let one stupid thing hold you back?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know. How long can you?”

I had a feeling it was another Jordan jab, but I chose not to interpret it that way. I fluffed my hair, purposely pushing it away from my face. “Couldn’t tell you. I don’t let stupid things get the better of me.”

Our phones buzzed again, my cue to get in position. I stood up and shrugged off my jacket with confidence I didn’t feel. When TJ’s eyes widened at the sight of my tight, low-cut violet shirt and then darted toward the window with a noticeable tightening of his jaw, I felt more than a little pleased.

“Do I look like royalty?” I asked.

He didn’t look at me. “You look great. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.” He swallowed hard. Then his chin jutted toward the parking lot. “I think I see Charlie’s car. You should get going.”

I sighed and slung my coat over my arm. “Wish me luck.”

Finally, his eyes met mine again. “I appreciate this too. In case I haven’t told you.”

His sincerity caught me off guard after the defensive tone of our previous conversation, and I could only manage a feeble nod and some weird sound in the back of my throat before heading off.

I settled onto the stool as Nick and Charlie breezed in, Mindy following close behind. Nick and Charlie were holding hands, which was either adorable or gross. I still hadn’t decided.

“Look at you, sexy mama.” Mindy grinned as she hopped onto the seat next to me.

Nick’s eyes bounced off my hint of cleavage—a big hint, admittedly—and he blanched. “Okay. I’m scarred for life now.”

“So you know what to do, right?” Charlie whispered. Why she felt the need to lower her voice, I didn’t know.

“We’ve only been over it a thousand times in a twenty-four-hour period, so yeah, I’m good.”

She patted me on the back with her free hand as a waitress came over and took our order for sodas. A minute later the restaurant door opened again, bringing with it Jason and a group of whooping, fist-pumping boys wearing hockey jerseys over their clothes.

“They won,” Mindy said. “Can you tell?”

“Which one is Chris?”

Just then, a guy with long blond hair jumped in front of the hostess, let out a loud celebratory yell six inches from her face, and picked her up and spun her in a circle.

Dear God in heaven. It was the California teleporter who’d worn shorts to the football game.

“That one,” Mindy said wryly. “Lucky you.”

“Wait!” I hissed when she started to walk away with her glass of Coke. “Where are you going? You’re supposed to stay with me or I’ll look like the most obvious plant in the world sitting here by myself!”

She grabbed my coat and draped it over the stool she’d vacated. “Here, say you’re saving a seat because you’re waiting for someone. We were talking about it in the car, and the fewer Templeton students he sees you with, the better. Sorry!”

She dashed off without another word, leaving me gaping after her. I swiveled back in time to see Jason elbow Hockey Chris in the ribs and nod in my direction. The grin that stretched across Chris’s face when he spotted me made my stomach feel like it was being used for a game of cat’s cradle. I ducked behind my hair, already abandoning my resolution of bravery. It didn’t matter. Jason said something to Chris, and the next thing I knew, he was heading toward me.

“Geez,” I muttered. “That didn’t take long.”

What did last way too long was the handshake Chris and I exchanged when he introduced himself. The touching palms, the eye contact, all of it was drawn out until I’d tripped over my own name and turned red for all the wrong reasons.

“Is this seat taken?” He straddled the stool to my left without waiting for an answer.

“Nope.” I gestured to the coat on my other side. “I was supposed to meet a friend, but she’s really late. Either she forgot, or I’m being stood up.”

“Too bad,” he said with a glint in his eyes that indicated he wasn’t even a touch sorry. “Are you hungry? We can share some cheese fries, if you want.” The waitress must’ve been hovering, because he looked past me and nodded.

Okay, then. I guess we’re sharing cheese fries.

“I’ve seen you at my school before. But you don’t go there.” It was both a statement and a question.

“Not yet I don’t.”

His left eyebrow inched up. “Yet?”

Here was my chance to lay it on thick. “I’m thinking about transferring into the honors program. I’ve toured the school. I’ve gone to football games. I’ve even sat in on some classes.” I wrapped a section of hair around my finger and twisted it near my collarbone, pretending not to notice when his gaze fell below my neckline. “But that’s the problem. Those classes are hard. I’m not sure if I can handle it.”

“Which one did you sit in on?”

“Chemistry. Mrs. Pace’s class.”

“Oof.” A paper boat of cheese fries appeared between us and Chris wolfed one down. “She’s tough.”

“I know. And that class is a requirement. I don’t know if it’s worth having the program on my transcript if I end up with worse grades because of it.”

“Tell me about it,” he snorted through another mouthful of the fries I still hadn’t touched. “Her class almost got me kicked off the hockey team, and I’m not even in the AP version.”

“Really?” I made my eyes as big as they could go, hoping I looked superinterested or superhorrified. Or both. I released the piece of hair I’d been playing with, letting my hand trail down the front of my shirt. “Then I guess I’m better off staying where I am.”

“Are you sure you’re not saying that because you’ll miss your boyfriend?”

Crap, crap, crap. Was he baiting me about the video? Had he meant TJ? There were a thousand wrong ways to answer that question, so I stuck with the one truth I’d probably told him all night:

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“No?”

I held my breath, waiting for the guillotine blade to drop.

“Awesome.”

A rush of elated air filled my lungs and I charged ahead, not wanting to get off topic. “Yeah. I really don’t want to stay. Good nursing colleges are so hard to get into, and I know I’d be shooting myself in the foot if I don’t transfer.” I tossed my hair over my shoulder. “So what did you do? Did you get a tutor?”

He studied me for a second—well, parts of me, anyway—until a smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. Then he leaned in and whispered, “If you’re that worried about it, I can help you out.”

My heart picked up speed.

“You mean you know someone who can tutor me?”

He gave a quick check over both his shoulders and pulled out his cell phone. “Way better than that. I know someone who can get you the answers to all her assignments.”

I did my best to look awed, even though my pulse was threatening to asphyxiate me. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not. Every test, every quiz. All at your fingertips.” He held up his phone. “All I need is your phone number. My source will set the price.”

I choked back a laugh. I couldn’t believe he’d actually said “my source,” like he was part of the FBI or something. Or that he didn’t seem to think Mrs. Pace would be changing her lesson plans long before I “transferred.” Jason had been right when he’d said chem wasn’t the only reason Chris was on academic probation.

“There’s a price?”

“Very reasonable. Really a small price to pay to guarantee your future.” Now he sounded like a smarmy salesman. He leaned in again, holding his phone out to me. “So what’s it gonna be? If it makes any difference”—he moved closer, until his breath tickled the crook of my neck—“I know I’d really like to see you at Templeton.”

I cocked my head, forcing what I hoped was a calm, flirtatious smile. I reached for his phone.

“That makes two of us.”