The Boy on the Bridge

Hunter shrugs, then he gives me a little wink. “There’s still time, we’ll see what happens.”

I stare at him, torn between reluctant amusement and utter annoyance. “That’s rather presumptuous, isn’t it? What makes you think I’m still a virgin?”

With a certainty I find suspicious, he says, “I’m pretty sure.”

My eyes narrow on his face. “Why?”

Rather than answer me, he slows to a stop and points down a hall leading to a bunch of classrooms. “I’m this way.”

“You’re evading the question.”

As if innocent, he says, “I just want to make a good impression on my first day of school.” Then, dropping his gaze and nodding at the books clutched to my chest, he says, “You might wanna think about doing the same. We passed your next class a while ago.”

My face falls and I lower my books, grabbing at the schedule on top and quickly looking to see where my next class is.

Shit! He’s right.

I look up at him just long enough to see the smug smile on his face before he turns and heads off down the hall.

Frustration grabs hold of me. I don’t want him to get the last word, but I also don’t want to be late to my next class.

Self-preservation wins out and I turn on my heel, hastily making my way back the way I just came.

Chapter Fourteen

Riley

“Question.”

Sara turns around, looking a bit like a deer in the headlights as I slam my hand down on the counter, my schedule sandwiched between my palm and the smooth surface.

Wide-eyed and suspiciously tentative, she says, “Yes?”

“How is it that Hunter Maxwell knows my class schedule better than I do?”

Sara’s eyes widen even more for a split second, then she darts a gaze left and right to check for teachers—or worse, her mom.

Sara’s mom works in the office, and Sara is an office aide during the period before lunch, so she’s just finishing up. Normally, I meet her here and we walk to the cafeteria together, but most days I wait outside the office.

Not today. Today I am experiencing a strong sense of Et tu, Brute? and I want answers.

I cock an eyebrow expectantly.

Sara sighs and deflates, her shoulders sinking and her body hunching forward. “He may have asked for a copy of it before school this morning.”

“Sara!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Why would you give it to him?” I demand, wide-eyed. “And why wouldn’t you tell me? I didn’t even know he was back.”

“He told me not to tell you. He swore he wouldn’t do anything evil with it.”

“And you believed him?” I demand.

She shrugs apologetically. “I made him pinkie swear?”

“I am going to kill you,” I tell her.

“Can you wait until after lunch? I’m starving.”

“Only because it would be unkind not to allow one last supper, even if you are a Judas.”

She wrinkles her nose up. “I am not a Judas.”

“Tell that to the knife sticking out of my back. Empty your pockets, I wanna make sure he at least gave you your thirty pieces of silver.”

Now Sara rolls her eyes at me. “You’re so dramatic.”

“You are the second person to tell me that today.”

She turns to stack a manila file folder on top of a mountain of them, then looks back at me over her shoulder. “And does that tell you anything?”

“Yes.” I pause for a split second. “That you’re both wrong.”

When she turns around, there’s a glimmer of anticipation in her eyes. “So, what did he do with it?”

“I shouldn’t tell you. That’s confidential information only to be shared with friends—not double agents.”

Staring at me as if I’m being unreasonable, she asks, “Do you have any idea how hard it is to say no to Hunter Maxwell?”

Why yes, yes I do.

I guess I can let her slide this time.

With a sigh, I tell her, “Anderson kissed me today.”

Sara’s eyes widen. “What? Oh my God, I need details. How was it?”

“It was in front of Hunter,” I say, since somehow that’s the only thing about it that seems memorable. “And my teacher. She thinks I’m a ho-bag now.”

Somehow, her eyes widen even more. “Like on purpose? Does he know about you and Hunter already? Was he jealous? Was it a sexy gesture of possession to show Hunter you’re his now?” She sighs. “Why is your life so much better than mine?”

I can’t help laughing as she quickly signs out of the computer and walks around the counter to join me. “It’s not, it has just been a day, let me tell you. And it’s not anything like you’re thinking. Trust me, there was no sweeping romance, there were no fireworks; it was just a quick peck.”

She wrinkles her nose up. “He wasted the first kiss—in front of his rival—on a peck? He deserves to lose.”

“Oh my God, would you stop? Hunter isn’t his rival. Before today, I hadn’t even spoken to Hunter in four years. And he hates me—he banished me to social Siberia before he left, remember? Not exactly the stuff of great romance.”