Page 11 of The Playbook

“You’re lucky I had a clean change of clothes in my car,” I continued softly, leaning in to whisper in her ear.

She gave a visible shudder, something that satisfied me immensely. It meant I was having an effect on her.

“Am I?” She turned her emerald gaze on me, startling me.

“Yes.” I recovered quickly and tossed her a charming smile as I pulled away.

She smelled so good. Like lavender and citrus. It was doing something to my head.

“I would’ve asked you to help me change, but I didn’t want to get you in trouble with your boyfriend.” The guy in the hall with his arm around her waist had pissed me off. I had no idea why I’d bristled when I saw it. I told myself it was because that meant I’d have to work harder. Breaking up a couple wasn’t really on my bucket list of things to do. Not that I wouldn’t, but I really didn’t want to have to.

Grace responded with an eye roll before burying her nose in her notebook.

“So, how’s your day going?” I asked, at a loss at how to interact with her.

My charms and flirts weren’t working. She was a tough cookie to break, but break her, I would.

“OK. Listen.” She spun toward me, her full lips turned down into a deep frown.

I couldn’t take my eyes off them. I bet the girl could kiss. Suck. Any girl with lips like that had to have a few tricks up her sleeve. She fidgeted beneath my gaze, so I flashed her a sexy smile. It seemed to snap her out of her trance because her frown took on new levels.

“I don’t know what your deal is, Walker. And honestly, I’m not interested. We aren’t friends. We’ll neverbefriends. So cut the shit with this nice guy bit. Save it for someone who believes in fairy tales.”

“I just asked how your day was going—”

“My day? You want to know howmy dayis going? I woke up this morning, looked at all the pretty new clothes I bought and thought to hell with it and put this on instead.” She waved her hand over her outfit. “Then I rode to school with my dad, who if you remember correctly, is both your teacherandcoach. After I got here, I greeted my best friend, then my day went from mediocre to bad because you appeared with your fake kindness and sudden weird interest in what I was doing. And while I immensely enjoyed when my handslippedand your tray ended up as part of your wardrobe, that’s really where the fun ends. So leave me alone. We’ll be cordial in class. But you’re going to do your own work and not copy off me. We won’t speak unless it’s school related. Got it?”

Her face was red as she glared at me. The look screamed hatred. It was foreign to me. Girls didn’t hate me. Ever. This was a whole new experience for me, one that left me speechless. How was I supposed to get this girl to say she loved me, or in the sack, if I couldn’t even get her to smile at me?

“Deal.” I gave her a tight smile, not knowing what else I was supposed to do.

She didn’t even care. She turned back to face the front of the room as Mr. Benson started his lecture.

Things didn’t get any better after that. Instead, they got a lot worse. We were supposed to be doing a simple experiment. It was supposed to be fun. And it was, just not for us. The idea was to make spaghetti dance by using vinegar, water, and baking soda with spaghetti noodles. Grace rolled her eyes and let out annoyed sighs at me so much she had me questioning if I was even doing it right. Science wasn’t really one of my better subjects, but I’d always managed to get through it.

“Don’t you know how to use a beaker?” she growled at me, pulling out another one after I’d overfilled the first one, making a mess. “It says right there in plain English how much water to add to it!”

After I spilled the baking soda, she snatched her bag up and left the classroom without a word. Mr. Benson stared at me with raised eyebrows while I sighed and rubbed my eyes. This was not working out anywhere close to what I’d envisioned.

When the bell rang, I wandered out to the hall, completely confused about how I’d deal with her and win this thing. I didn’t see her again, which worked out well since I was sure she’d punch me in the throat if she could.

During my last period, I had an idea. Grace Matthews was smart. Like top of our class smart. Mr. Benson assigned us homework. I knew Grace didn’t have it. It was my in. Steeling myself, I went to where her locker was and waited. It didn’t take long for her to show up. Her head was down, so she didn’t notice me standing there.

“Grace,” I said her name, clearing my throat.

She jumped and gaped at me in surprise before the look turned to a scowl.

“Didn’t we talk about this—”

“Yeah. We did. I’m only here to give you your homework. You left chem and missed the assignment.” I handed her the assignment I’d written out.

She glanced at me warily before reaching out and taking the paper, her cheeks flushed pink.

“Thanks,” she muttered.

I breathed a sigh of relief and watched as she stuffed the assignment into her bag before grabbing her chem book to take with her.

“Listen,” I started. “I just want to apologize for anything I may have done to upset you. If I did something, I’m really sorry. I just want us to get along. Truce?”

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