“Oh, I definitely aced it.” She smiles happily, but the joy fades fast. “Now I just need to do better on this makeup on Friday, and all will be right in the world again.”
“You got my email, right?” I had sent Nell a copy of my midterm earlier in the week, but she hadn’t emailed back.
“I did. Sorry I didn’t respond, but I was focused on chem. I’m planning on reading through your answers tonight.”
A shadow falls over us, and the next thing I know, Garrett slides into the seat beside me. “Wellsy, you got an extra pen?”
Nell’s eyebrows nearly hit the ceiling, and then she stares at me like I’ve sprouted a goatee in the past three seconds. I don’t blame her. We’ve been seat buddies since school started, and not once have I even looked in Garrett Graham’s direction, let alone talked to him.
Nell isn’t the only one who’s fascinated by this new seating arrangement. When I look across the aisle, I find Justin watching us with an indecipherable expression on his face.
“Wellsy? Pen?”
I shift my gaze back to Garrett. “You came to class unprepared? Shocker.” I reach into my bag again and rummage around for a pen, then slap it into his hand.
“Thanks.” He offers that cocky grin of his before opening his notebook to a fresh page. Then he leans forward and peeks over at Nell. “I’m Garrett.”
She gapes at the hand he’s sticking out at her before reaching over to shake it. “Nell,” she says. “Nice to meet you.”
Tolbert arrives just then, and as Garrett turns his attention to the podium, Nell shoots me another WTF look. I bring my lips close to her ear and murmur, “We’re kinda friends now.”
“I heard that,” Garrett pipes up. “And there’s no ‘kinda’ about it. We’re best friends, Nelly. Don’t let Wellsy tell you otherwise.”
Nell giggles softly.
I just sigh.
Our lecture today focuses on some seriously heavy issues. Mainly, the conflict between an individual’s conscience versus responsibility to society. Tolbert uses the Nazis as our example.
Needless to say, it’s a depressing hour and a half.
After class, I’m dying to finish my conversation with Justin, but Garrett has other ideas. Rather than let me linger—or rather, let me make a beeline for Justin—he firmly takes my arm and helps me to my feet. I steal a look at Justin, who walks briskly down the aisle as if he’s trying to catch up to us.
“Ignore him.” Garrett’s voice is barely audible as he guides me out the door.
“But I want to talk to him,” I protest. “I’m pretty sure he was going to ask me out before.”
Garrett just plows forward, his hand like an iron vise around my forearm. I have to sprint to keep up with his long strides, and I’m annoyed as hell when we emerge into the cool October air.
I’m tempted to look over my shoulder to see if Justin is behind us, but I know Garrett will chastise me if I do, so I resist the urge.
“What the hell?” I demand, shaking his hand off me.
“You’re supposed to be unattainable, remember? You’re making it too easy for him.”
Aggravation rumbles inside me. “The whole point is to get him to notice me. Well, he’s noticed me. Why can’t I stop playing games now?”
“You’ve piqued his interest,” Garrett says as we walk down the cobblestone path toward the courtyard. “But if you want to keep his interest, you need to make him work for it. Men like a challenge.”
I want to argue with him, except I think he might be right.