Chapter 8

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I repeatedly checked my phone, but I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to see. A notification about my grades? A text from a friend? A text from Tam?

Maybe that was more of a dread than a hope.

I was sitting at our usual table with Erin and Lucas when I saw the twins walking together. Tam still had on his hoodie, his earbuds hanging around his neck. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and he looked more tense than when I usually saw him.

I watched him, waiting and assessing. No pangs of anxiety, no fluttering heart or stupid smiling. No sudden urge to get up and make him notice me.

I took a relieved breath. False alarm. I was fine.

Which meant I had pushed him away for nothing.

Dread settled in my stomach. Did he hate me now? Did he think I was some snotty rich girl who wanted nothing to do with him?

"Bi?" Erin said, breaking though my thoughts. "You good?"

"Yep," I said, glad that at least some of the cheerfulness was real. "I'm fine."

"Sure," Lucas said, whipping out a pencil and scribbling something rude on Erin's paper while she was distracted. "It didn't have anything to do with that good-looking guy you were just staring at?"

I gaped at him, then grinned. "Which one?"

"The guy with the silver hair."

"He's my math partner," I assured him. "And that's it."

"Hmm." Lucas sat back, gazing at me with fake scrutiny. "What do you think, Erin? Think she's telling the truth?"

"I sure hope so," she said, glaring at Lucas and furiously erasing his note. "She still has to get his number for my friend."

"Right." I pulled out my contacts and scrolled through. "Which friend is this?"

"Marella."

I quickly sent her Tam's number and glanced at the time. "I'd better get to class. See you at lunch?"

Erin nodded, too busy yelling at Lucas to give me a full answer. I smiled and headed inside.

I spent the first three periods warring between nerves and excitement. I wasn't quite sure what to do--should I apologize for freaking out, or should I act like everything was fine?

I decided to play it cool. Apologizing if I didn't have to would be embarrassing.

I caught sight of him in the corner like he always was, doodling something on his paper with his head in his hand. I took my seat at the front and tried to focus on my notes.

When our teacher released us to work on our projects, I slowly approached Tam's desk, not wanting to startle him. I opened my mouth to say hi when I caught sight of his doodles.

"Well that's creative," I said, trying to hold back a laugh. Tiny stick men lined his paper, buried under math tests and running from murderous numbers with pointy teeth and knives. Even with the art, his notes were somehow all filled in.

He glanced up, his voice carrying a slight wariness. "Thanks."

I took the same empty seat and dug in my bag for the poster. I felt Tam's eyes on me, and he quickly looked away when I sat up.

"Okay," I said, putting the poster on the desk. We'd gotten quite a bit done at my house, and all that was left were the finishing touches. "Wanna get the markers or should I?"

"I got 'em." He rose, gave me another glance and headed towards the front.

I suppressed a sigh. Had I really been that bad yesterday?

That was it. I had to apologize.

But when?

"Okay," Tam said, coming back with a fistful of markers and counting them off by the caps. "I've got red, blue, green, this weird purple color--"

"I'm sorry!" I blurted.

Tam blinked in surprise. "Uh...okay....for what, exactly?"

"For acting really weird yesterday." I gave him a nervous smile. "I don't know, I just flipped."

"Oh." Tam seemed to get over his surprise and shrugged. "It's fine. I get it. You probably wanted me out of your house."

Well, I can't deny it, I thought.

"So anyway," he said, tossing his bangs and holding out the markers. "Pick a color."











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