Page 69 of Celebrities Don't Date Bookworms

With a happy wave, she spun around and flounced off. I swore I blinked and she was gone, like she had teleported away. I guess that was one way to be a wing-woman. I looked at Hudson and shrugged.

“I guess I’m free,” I said.

“Good thing because youdidalready agree earlier,” Hudson said. “I was mostly just here to remind you.”

“Does that mean you’re not coming to the football game?” One of the girls behind him asked. She was the same one who had glared at me in English class the first day Hudson was at school, though now I knew her name was Jennifer.

“You know, I’ve never understood the appeal of football,” Hudson said. “But I think the other boys are going—maybe you could catch up with them there.”

“Oh,” Jennifer said. She looked at her friend. “Yeah, I guess.”

“We’ll see you in class on Monday, right?” Her friend asked Hudson hopefully. She was practically standing on her tiptoes as she tried to look him in the eyes.

“Definitely,” Hudson said with a nod. “I’m looking forward to it.”

That seemed to appease them as they both giggled and headed off down the hallway, whispering to one another.

“Those poor girls,” I said, staring after them. “They are absolutely obsessed with you.”

“And that warrants sympathy, does it?” Hudson asked.

“Well, yeah,” I said. “They obviously haven’t realized how much of a loser you are.”

Hudson crossed his arms and scoffed. “And here I was planning the perfect romantic evening for you.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said. “First, we were going to get Starbucks, and I would buy your coffee?—”

“Still trying to make up for spilling that one on me?”

“I’ll never stop,” he said. “And then, after Starbucks, I was thinking you could actually show me around town, if you were open to that. Take me to all your favorite places—I want to get toknow this town, and why you love it so much. Then, we could go out for dinner. And,” he took a step closer, until we were almost touching, “if you still weren’t sick of me by then… I thought you might let me kiss you goodnight. What do you think?”

Even though I’d never been kissed before, I could imagine his lips on mine. They would be soft, I was sure. And I bet he would taste minty—he was probably the kind of guy to keep gum or mints or something in his car. He wouldn’t want word to get around that he had bad breath, right?

“I’d say your chances are pretty high, Mr. Shaw,” I said. He interlocked his fingers with mine, keeping our hands hidden between us, so nobody would notice, and ask questions—or worse, take a photo, and share it online.

“Then, let’s go.”

Hudson and I did spend the day together, exactly like he’d described it. After a quick stop at Starbucks, we were off touring the town. I didn’t know exactly what to show him since there wasn’t all that much to do, but he seemed amazed by everything, from my old elementary school to the art museum. His enthusiasm for everything was infectious, and I found myself seeing the whole town in a whole new light. The only thing he didn’t seem to like in the whole day was the stuff he’d chosen out.

“I’m sorry the restaurant sucked,” Hudson said as he walked me to my door that evening.

“It didn’t suck,” I said, even though that was a total lie. I mean, it was a really nice place. Super fancy, and all that. But that wasn’t totally my vibe.

“You can call it what it was,” Hudson said. “Awful.”

“Regardless,” I said, “I appreciate you taking me.”

I wanted to add athank you for payingon to that, but that felt a little tacky to say. I just wasn’t used to being able to go out and do stuff like this with friends. I wondered if Hudson was used to it either—I couldn’t imagine how strange it must be to go from being a normal teenager to a millionaire so quickly.

I pushed the front door open and glanced inside. From what I could tell, nobody was home.

“Come in with me?” I asked Hudson.

“I guess if you insist…” Hudson said with a laugh. He followed me inside and looked around with curious eyes. I suddenly got self-conscious about everything in the house—the small size compared to what his mansion must have been like, the mess in the living room, my brother’s gym bag sitting at the bottom of the stairs…

“I know it’s nothing like you’re used to,” I mumbled. “It’s not a mansion or anything, but it’s?—”

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