"Well, looky there.” Amy lifted her
glasses and peered down the hall before returning her specs back to her nose. “Is it me or does Luke look like a mild-
mannered reporter type?”
I glared at her.
It was as though
she’d read my mind.
”It’s you,” I snapped back. Seven thirty-eight in the morning was way too early for all my synapses to be
able to process this information. I was being rude and didn’t even know why.
“He’s like your Romeo in cargo
pants.”
“He’s not wearing cargo pants. And
don’t compare him to Romeo. That story is way too depressing.”
“OK, then he’s Mr. Darcy come to
sweep you away from your mundane existence.”
“Amy, seriously, it’s time to lay off
the romantic fiction. Besides, didn’t you tell me that crushes were for
immature adolescents?”
“Crushes maybe, but Luke might just
be the one for you. You know, the One.” She
did the quotes in the air thing to emphasize her statement.
“Are you missing your macaroons or
something? I’m only sixteen.” I must have been missing mine because I hadn’t
used that expression since sixth grade. I covered my face with my hands.
“Whatever, Andi. Here he comes. If
you ask me, he’s trying to woo you. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” She
tapped my shoulder before she traipsed away.
I barely took notice of her absence because
I had mere seconds before Luke Ryan arrived. He didn’t even give Stephanie a
glimpse as he passed by her down the hall. His gaze remained focused on me. I
swiveled my stance to face my locker and pulled out the daisies, forming a
half-dozen bouquet in my hand. How did he know daises were my favorite? Had I
mentioned it?
More importantly, was Amy right?
Could Luke really be trying to
woo me like some totally romantic gesture straight out
of medieval, courtly love? I must have accidentally inhaled window cleaner or
something because that just wasn’t possible. His note had only been meant as a
thank you. Yes, that was it. He’d even said just that.
Sneaking a peek out of the corner of
my eye, I could see he was almost upon me. My evil, impossible heart did a
somersault in my chest. Oh, my gosh! Did I remember to put on deodorant this
morning, because I was really starting to sweat. As if suffering from some
horrifying form of hysteria, I stuffed my books into my locker as fast as I
could. I had to get out of this hallway before he caught up to me.
“Hi.”
Too late.
