Page 29 of Every Broken Thing

There’s no need to be snarky.

I wrote back hastily and tossed the note over the aisle.

That’s like asking the earth to stop spinning. Physically impossible.

He huffed in amusement as he read my words before replying.

So being a smartass is in your genetic makeup?

I chuckled, ducking my head as the teacher spun around to face the class with narrowed eyes. Ben, innocent as ever, stared straight ahead at the teacher like he wasn’t the instigator, and I waited till the coast was clear before writing back.

Duh… I thought that was kind of obvious.

The paper made its way back to me almost instantly, and I glanced at it, surprised at the lack of reply to my earlier statement. It took me a moment to notice the small note on the bottom of the page.

How about we just text. That’s easier, he wrote, along with his phone number.

A thrill crackled through me as I took in the numbers, but I tried to stamp it down.Get your head out of your ass, Silas!He gave me his number because that was what friends did, nothing more. I tore off the bottom of the page and tucked the piece holding his number into my pocket before scribbling out a snide remark.

Is this your not so subtle way of asking for my number, Adams? I’m so flattered.

I bit my lip to keep from snickering at Ben’s cough, and his mouth widened in a smile to reveal his amazing dimple. He scratched his pen over the paper, crooking an eyebrow at me as he did, and I faced front to keep myself from laughing.

A finger poked my thigh and, without looking, I dropped my hand to take the note he offered. Our fingers brushed a split second longer than necessary, and my whole body jolted from the unexpected contact. I glanced at Ben out of the corner of my eye, but he was completely unaware of the havoc he unleashed on my traitorous body.

I slowly unfolded the page to read his response.

Damn, you caught me! I should have used a pick-up line instead. How about this: I lost my number, can I have yours?

I turned my chortle into a violent coughing fit, but the teacher caught me. “Something to share with the class, Silas?” His mustache twitched in displeasure as I managed to get my amusement under control.

“No,” I cleared my throat. “Um, no, sir.”

Continuing his lecture, he turned back to the board, and I reread Ben’s message. Of course, if I didn’t know Ben, I would take this as flirting, but I knew better. He was being cheeky. Well, two could play at that game.

Ugh, please! I would never give my number out over such a lame pick-up line. You insult me.

The paper returned quickly, and this time I mentally prepared myself for his sass. Of course, he didn’t disappoint.

I should have known you required more class and sophistication. I’m doing a survey to see who has the most 4’s in their number. What’s yours?

Lame! Try again.

I need some answers for my math homework. Quick, what’s your number?

You know, I’m starting to think you don’t actually want my number. You’re disappointing me, Benjamin.

I was on thin ice at this point as our banter teased the line of actual flirting, but knowing Ben was straight made it innocent fun. Right?

After a longer wait, he poked my thigh, and I, once again, lowered my hand. My fingers closed around his, and I shivered when his pointer finger slid across my palm as he released the note into my hand.

Our handwriting mixed together, clean letters and chicken scratch, and I dragged a finger over the places where the curl ofhisymet the harsh line of myb. I was pathetic. But it didn’t stop me from reading his next pick-up line. Honestly, if he used this on me in real life, he would earn my number, hands down.

I’m no mathematician, but I’m pretty good with numbers. Tell you what, give me yours and watch what I can do with it.

I grinned widely and wrote my response before my brain caught up with my hand, and I stared at the paper in horror.

Not bad, Adams. Better be careful that I don’t take you up on that.

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