“Wow, piano. I guess you must be pretty good to be playing a recital.” Luke's voice had turned, I don’t know, a little amazed. I guess it might seem amazing to think that plain Andrea Jamison actually had a talent—a talent my parents had pressured me into since the age of six.
I shrugged my shoulders and lifted my head. “I guess.”
“I mean, that’s really cool. Could I hear you play sometime?”
Swiftly, I shifted my view back to the inside of my locker. He just looked too cute leaning there like a model escaped from a photo shoot. And he wanted to hear me play? At my piano recital? This was a crazy world!
Then I zeroed in on the superhero decal inside my locker. If Luke saw that, he’d know me for the big fat liar that I am. Why had I told Luke that I hated superheroes? Of all the lies, that one was just plain stupid.
I slammed the locker shut.
Luke stood up straight, apparently surprised. His face scrunched up like I’d almost taken off one of his eyelashes.
“Sorry,” I tried to apologize while hoping he’d forget about the piano thing.
“So, when can I hear you play?”This boy could not be distracted. Maybe if I fainted here in the hallway. Of course, he might have to catch me, and then he’d be touching me, and that was way too romantic for this Aubrey Academy girl.
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