As soon as the bell rang, it was like a madhouse. There was one more period left to go for most of us, and I knew everyone was itching to get out. I didn’t blame them; I wanted to call Leah and discuss every minute detail about today. I avoided all eye contact as I ventured into the hall, heading to my locker to shove my huge chemistry book inside, not to mention Jessie’s notebook. I was about to head to my last class of the day when a slim figure appeared beside my locker, smelling that same musky scent I’d noticed during lunch.
Alec. Fucking Alec.
“Hey,” he spoke, his backpack slung around his shoulders. “You need a ride?” Right, because most seniors were able to leave early, so long as they had their schedules changed so study hall was their last class.
I had purposefully not chosen to take any study halls. For my final class, I was taking something I wanted to take. Something that interested me—and not for the sake of the revenge plot. Photography was always something I enjoyed, but I never really put much thought to it before having to sign up for classes here.
I supposed I could’ve told him no thanks, but I was so caught off-guard by his question that I only blinked up at him. I knew I’d changed, become a woman, but he’d definitely become a man. My eyes were level with his neck, and I saw his Adam’s apple bob, as if he were intensely expectant, waiting with bated breath for my answer.
“Why would I ride with you?” I asked, angling my head up at him. He stood two feet from me, and I could still smell him. Damn, this boy had a nice scent.
“I…” Alec’s fingers fiddled with the strap around his shoulder. “Well, I…”
“Cat got your tongue?” I asked, breathing through my mouth to avoid inhaling his musky scent anymore. I didn’t need to start crushing on the guy. That would only complicate things unnecessarily.
A muscle in Alec’s jaw tensed, and I noticed just how square it was, not to mention the dark stubble lining it. It was no typical teenage scruff. He’d been shaving for a while, I could tell. I don’t know why the thought made my stomach warm up.
“Look, I—”
“I can’t. I have an eighth period class.” I started to back away from him, suddenly needing space. “Photography.” Damn it—why’d I have to go and tell him? It was like I was inviting him to stalk me.
And I wasn’t. If anyone was going to be the stalker here, I was. Not them. These tables had officially turned.
As I walked away, I made sure to keep my head held high and add an extra sway to my hips. I wasn’t going to fall for Alec’s games, whatever game he thought he was playing. When I made it to the back end of the school where all the art rooms were, I froze.
Hmm.
What if I acted like I was playing his game, all the while playing my own board with him as an unknowing pawn?