LITMIR.BIZ

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future.

      “It’s nice to meet you…Angelique,” I said to my new lab partner, stressing her name. If she wanted me to call her Potato Chip, I would have.

      Angelique smiled, and returned to her printouts, which I saw were spells printed out from some Wiccan website. As long as she didn’t get me into trouble for stealing chemicals from the lab, I didn’t care what she did.

      I was counting the seconds to see Ashley in Latin. I had to find out what the story was with Brendan. You just find him interesting, Emma. You are not allowed to be interested in him beyond that.

      I was barely in my seat before Ashley unleashed her questions.

      “So, what do you think?” she asked, her eyes wide with excitement. “Are the classes hard? Any cute guys? Do you like it so far? Any cute guys?”

      “It’s okay,” I said cautiously. “A kind of funny thing happened though.” I replayed how Brendan interjected to save me from Kristin’s nasty inquisition and—darting a furtive glance to make sure that no one was listening—whispered, “He clearly knows I’m full of it with the whole Philly thing.” Her eyes grew so big I thought they’d fall out of her head and roll down the hall.

      “No way! And he defended you?” Ashley yelled, whacking me in the arm. I yelped, prompting the entire classroom to stare at me. I wished I could melt into the floor.

      “Yes, now keep it down!” I hissed, casting a glance at Mrs. Dell. She didn’t seem to have heard. “Dude! He’s hot. Super hot. He’s got that total loner bad-boy vibe, too—I heard that he doesn’t really hang out with anyone from school. He got suspended from the basketball team already this year for fighting, but he still plays in the pickup games after school, and he’s really good.”

      Ashley continued rattling off facts as if she had been studying for A.P. Brendan Class. “He deejays, too. His mom’s on the board with Aunt Christine so he ends up deejaying school dances. I heard his mom makes him do it as punishment any time he gets into trouble. Which I heard is a lot.”

      “How do you know so much about him?” I asked, amazed. “You’ve been in this school for three weeks.”

      “Well, after he got suspended from the team during the first game of the year, everyone was talking about him,” she confessed. “It was a big deal. Some guy from the other team tripped him and tried to hit him and Brendan just knocked him out with one punch. Besides, he’s so hot!

      “Oh, and the best part? Kristin asked him out last year and he flat-out rejected her. He thinks she’s the worst, the absolute worst,” she cracked, laughing. “What I heard is that she asked him out, he laughed in her face and peaced out. Like, gave her the peace sign and walked away.”

      “Wow, that’s cold!” The thought of that smug girl, my instant nemesis, getting shot down was pretty priceless. “I wish there was a photo of it.” It would be my screen saver.

      “Oh, come with me after school and watch them practice in the quad. There’s a whole group of guys that play basketball. He’s really good. It’s fun to watch.”

      Watching cute guys after class? This was an extracurricular activity I could get into.

      Finally, the bell rang, and I gave Ashley an eager look. Wow. One day and already I’m dorking out over some guy.

      “Um, I don’t mean to offend,” Ashley said, eyeing me studiously, “but you need, like, some lipstick. Or something!” She giggled. “I mean, if Brendan Salinger singled you out on the first day…”

      “He didn’t single me out!” I cut in. I was down for looking—that’s it. Window-shopping strictly. And besides, based on the girls I’d seen at this place, my boring self was hardly getting a second glance from someone who looked like him.

      “I’m sure I’m just an excuse.” I sighed. “He thinks Kristin sucks—with good reason—and just wanted to give the new girl a hand. That’s fine, whatever. It’s cool.”

      She just shook her head and pulled out a small bottle of some random pop star’s signature perfume, spritzing me with the sickly-sweet smell.

      “Oh, come on, Ash, that smells like a unicorn fart,” I cried, recoiling at the overpowering, candylike smell. She just dragged me into the bathroom and pulled a pot of lip gloss out of her bag.

      After about ten minutes of fussing over me in the bathroom—I borrowed some mascara and that was it—Ashley and I worked our way down to the quad, a large courtyard separating the main building of the school with an annex. They were playing basketball, but it might as well have been murderball. Guys were getting knocked down, players were getting kicked out of the game, then brought back in—and I noticed Kristin was in charge of keeping score.

      “Eleven-eight,” Kristin said smugly. She had rolled her uniform skirt up until it was practically a belt and gave a lusty look to one side of the court. I followed her gaze and saw Anthony and Brendan there—and instantly wanted to hit her with my backpack. My mind immediately went to what Cisco said. Some people really are just rotten.

      Brendan spun around, dribbling the ball with one hand and brushing his black hair back with his other. He was fast, that’s for sure. He had changed out of his uniform into a white T-shirt and gym shorts. Every time he aimed for the basket, his shirt hiked up, and I have to admit, it was hard not to notice just how very nice what was hiding under his shirt was. His black hair hung low on his forehead again, as he contemplated his next move, deciding to throw the ball to Anthony. Guess they’d made up.

      And then he turned his striking green eyes on me.

      Ashley was the first to notice. For all her exuberance, she kept her cool pretty impressively. For a minute.

      “Oh. My. God. Brendan. Is. Staring. At. You.” She tried her hardest not to move her lips, but failed miserably. Wow, this girl has absolutely no future as a ventriloquist.

      “I know,” I replied, trying to look cool as I met his eyes. He continued to stare at me, his gaze unbroken, with those bright emerald eyes peering at me from his messy black hair, until his teammate tossed him the ball. For someone not paying attention, he caught it easily, turning away to make the next basket. Brendan caught the ball as it swooshed through the hoop, holding it under his arm and turning around. He gave me a sly smile, tilting his chin up in a small greeting. I smiled back, taking note of an unfamiliar feeling in my stomach. Holy crap, this must be what butterflies feel like.

      I broke his gaze, pretending to root around in my backpack for something.

      “Ashley, let’s go,” I whispered.

      “No way! Seriously, you should stay and talk to him.” She grinned devilishly and wagged her eyebrows up and down.

      I grabbed her arm. “No! Please!” I hissed, feeling panicky. “Let’s go.” Within seconds, we were out of the quad, walking home.

      “Look, Emma…I don’t pretend to know what you’ve been though…” Ashley started on the walk home. Oh, no. Please. Don’t make me talk about this.

      “Ashley, look,” I began, a little harsher than I intended, and I instantly felt terrible. The truth was, today would not have been as easy as it had been without her.

      “What?” She looked at me with wounded eyes.

      “I don’t…feel comfortable. At all. A lot of the time,” I mumbled, picking at my dark nail polish and peeling the paint off nervously. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to start crushing on some guy who I have zero chances with. I don’t even know how I’m going to do on the friend front. Kristin Thorn already hates me for some bananas reason. Don’t you understand? It hasn’t worked out all that well for me—being close to someone.”

      Ashley looked at me with more wisdom than I’d ever given her credit for. Suddenly, I felt stupid for denying her the knowledge of her fourteen years.

      “Emma,” she said, softly.

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