My forearms were fully visible, and she hadn’t seen my tattoos before. That night, in her truck, she’d stared at my lip ring and I’d known that she was one of those girls who shied away from guys like me on principle. I looked like a poster boy for a bad life choice. From her mode of dress, I knew she was a preppy sort of girl, as were her friends. And her ex. Hell, if someone stood me next to that asswipe who’d attacked her and asked the general populace which one the ra**st was, I’d get a helluva lot more votes.

Even so, she was watching me now. On the dance floor Saturday night, she’d come into my arms as though she felt safe, against all better judgement. She was confused, but curious. Interested. I felt that one truth in the pit of my stomach, and it was gripping and unnerving. I wanted her attention. Her full attention. And I meant to get it.

I popped start on the coffee and turned to the register next to Eve without looking up. As soon as Eve took the guy in front of Jacqueline, I shifted my eyes up to meet hers. ‘Next?’ She blinked as though I’d caught her misbehaving, but came closer. ‘Jacqueline,’ I said, as though I’d just noticed her. ‘Americano today, or something else?’

She was surprised I’d remembered what she’d ordered a week ago. I would happily catalogue her likes and dislikes. Every one of them. From how she took her coffee, to how she liked to be kissed, to what stroke to use where to make her shiver from head to toe.

She nodded. I grabbed a cup and a Sharpie, but I pulled the espresso and made her drink myself.

Eve cocked a double-pierced brow at me, because she knew what I’d just done. ‘In the habit of handing out your digits to sorority chicks?’ she murmured. ‘Lame.’

‘There’s a first time for everything.’

Shaking her head, she wiped the espresso valves and dumped two shots into a grande cup. ‘No, actually, there’s not.’

I shrugged. ‘True enough. Is it acceptable if she’s not a sorority chick?’

Her lips twisted, and I got the feeling she was making a concerted effort not to smile. ‘No. But less unacceptable.’

As Eve and I took orders and began to whittle the line down, I didn’t allow myself to watch Jacqueline cross to the condiment stand to get her three sugars and splash of milk. I knew exactly where she was, every second, but I ignored her until she walked through the door, at which point I couldn’t watch anything else.

‘Oh, dear God. Someone’s got it bad.’ Eve laughed, which made the guy across the counter smile at her.

He was wearing a Pike T-shirt.

‘What?’ she barked, glaring at him.

His smile disappeared and he threw up his hands. ‘Nothin’ – just … nice laugh. That’s all.’

She rolled her eyes and spun to grab a new carton of soy milk, ignoring him.

When he looked at me, blond brows arched, I shrugged. I didn’t know the girl’s history, but there was no crossing that explosives-laden barrier. She was barely civil to me half the time, and she liked me.

12

Landon

When spring semester began, I found myself in fourth-period biology with Melody Dover and Pearl Frank – who’d been Pearl Torres, fellow occupant of the middle-school loser lunch table, when I was in eighth grade and she was in seventh. Then her mom married Dr Thomas Frank, prominent local surgeon and one of the town’s most stubborn playboy bachelors – until he met his match in Esmeralda Torres, who wanted a big diamond on her finger and her daughter set for life.

She got both.

Pearl, who’d been a nerdy, awkward kid when I knew her, took a few summer-school courses to skip ninth grade altogether, got a makeover and a shitload of brand-name clothes, and arrived in tenth grade hotter and richer than she’d ever been.

Melody lost no time in making Pearl her new best friend.

They exchanged a less than euphoric look when they were assigned to the only half-empty lab table – Boyce’s and mine.

‘So why are y’all in bio this period now? Get kicked out for bein’ too sexy in class?’ he asked.

They both rolled eyes at him and I shook my head and stared at the scarred black table, trying not to crack a smile. He’d been batshit for Pearl the minute he’d noticed her in the hallway last September. Too bad he hadn’t paid her any attention in middle school, when she had no friends. She was returning the favour now.

‘No, dumbass,’ Melody said, cocking her head at him. ‘We both made the dance squad, which meets last period. That’s when we had bio last semester, so we had to switch. Lucky us.’

Her glance flicked over me then, taking swift inventory of the tats peeking from the sleeves of my thermal henley, the bar through my eyebrow and the stud in my ear. For the space of one second, our eyes met before hers slid away.

‘Jesus, Dover – no need to be hostile,’ Boyce chuckled.

She glared, objecting to being called by her last name, I’d guess – especially by Boyce, who’d admitted to me that he’d called her Rover Dover all through elementary school. Having pretty much burned every bridge he crossed, our friendship was like a malfunction of his usually deficient people skills.

Our table was at the back of the classroom. Boyce and I leaned against the wall, stools tipping on to two legs in defiance of classroom policy. Mr Quinn either didn’t notice the infraction or didn’t care to confront us. Melody and Pearl had to turn round to face the front of the classroom, leaving their notebooks and bags on the table, vulnerable to Boyce’s inspection.