Page 6 of Second Shot

“Hey,” the girl mumbled, not looking up from herbook.

“Don’t mind her, she’s anti-social. Aren’t you, loser?” Samteased.

Her head jerked up and she gave him a pointed glare. “Some of us actually want to graduate highschool.”

I felt something smack into my chest –lust.

She was prettier than I’d first thought. Soft, full lips, clear skin, free of make-up. She was a junior, I knew that from Sam. But there was something about the way she held herself that made her seemolder.

“Who needs a high school diploma?” Sam placed his empty bottle on the counter, and pulled out another one from the fridge. “Look at that Microsoft guy. He didn’t graduate and he’s like a multi-billionaire.”

She rolled her eyes. “He dropped out of university, not high school. And trust me, you’re no BillGates.”

Sam chuckled and took a deep swig of hisbeer.

That’s when her gaze finally rested on me. I’d been waiting for it. The draw. The flash of excitement when she finally sawme.

I was used to girls throwing themselves at me, used to the heated looks and shameless flirting. I’d leaned back against the counter, flexing my biceps as I brought the bottle to my lips, and gave her a cocky what-do-you-thinklook?

As expected, her gaze travelled down my torso, then back up to my face, and for a second I thought I saw a flicker of appreciation. But if it was there, it didn’t lastlong.

Her lips pursed, and her eyes narrowed, before she’d dropped them back to the book she’d been studyingfrom.

I should have left her alone, but I wasn’t used to being dissed, and it was a blow to myego.

“Whatcha reading?” I asked, turning a chair around and straddling it with my forearms resting on the back, and my bottle of beer dangling from myhand.

With a heavy sigh, she looked up at me. “Arthistory.”

“You’re anartist?”

“She’s fucking incredible,” Sam said, walking over to us and messing up her hair. “Aren’t you,dork?”

The first hint of a smile tugged at her lips when she’d looked up at her brother, and it brightened her wholeface.

I was wrong. The girl wasn’t just pretty, she was fuckinggorgeous.

She shrugged, cheeks infused withcolor.

“She’s going to be the next Picasso, or what’s that woman artist you’re always going onabout?”

“FridaKahlo.”

“Right. Your stuff is way better than hers,” Sam said, unconcealed pride in his voice despite the way he teased her. “At least, it doesn’t resemble a preschooler’s artproject.”

Again, she’d rolled her eyes, but when she glared at him, there was affection in it, not like the cold judgement when her gaze took mein.

Even now, a decade later, I don’t know why I was so desperate for her approval.But Iwas.

“You’ll have to show me some of your work.” Maybe I came on a little strong, leaning forward and giving her a dimpled grin that usually got me to second base with any chick, because the next thing I knew, she was pushing her chair back and slamming her textbookshut.

“I’ll study in my room.” She’d scurried from the room, but not before I’d gotten a good view of her perfectass.

Sam slapped the back of my head andchuckled.

“What was that for?” I rubbed my neck, grinning, knowing full well why he’d hitme.

“Don’t check out my sister, dude. So notcool.”

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