Page 91 of The Do-Over

He swallowed. “That’s not fair.”

He was looking at me with those eyes and it hurt to look at him at all. I glanced down at my phone and said, “Okay.”

Thankfully, Mr. Bong walked in, shutting down the chance for any more painfully awkward conversation. But I was bothered by our exchange for the rest of the class. Because he didn’t have the right to be jealous when he didn’t want me. Why would he care if I was talking to Josh?

I textedJosh: Can you give me a ride home after school?

Josh: You got it.

When class ended, I packed up and left as fast as I could. I needed to forget all about the surly one, even if it was hard to focus when the smell of his Irish Spring found its way to my olfactory senses and tormented me with memories of the seven minutes we were in love on the side of my grandma’s house.

“Em!”

I heard Chris’s voice in the hall, and when I turned around, there he was, walking my way while holding hands with Alex.

“Hey.”

“Your look?” Chris raised his eyebrows and said, “Did you have to clean out a basement before school today?”

Alex pressed his lips together, too polite to laugh at Chris’s snark.

I said, “New Emilie didn’t feel like glamming it up today.”

“New Emilie doesn’t look like she’s ever heard of glam,” he replied.

“Why don’t you leave me alone and figure out how to fix your own cowlick?”

He was obsessed with the one tiny imperfection in his thick, curly, gorgeous hair.

“Oh, God help us,” he teased. “New Emilie is evil.”

“The new Emilie,” Alex said, grinning at me, “looks adorable. Just like your cowlick.”

Alex and Chris shared a glance that made me envious, so I rolled my eyes and said, “You’re giving me cavities with the sweet. Knock it off.”

I took a step in the other direction, then turned back and said, “Oh, yeah—I don’t need a ride home.”

“?’Kay,” he said, and I knew he would text me next hour to see why.

It only took five minutes.

Chris: Who is driving you home? Is it Stark?

Me: Josh.

Chris: Omigod what in the actual?

Me: No idea. Said he wants to talk to me. Can’t hurt to listen, right?

Chris: I guess not. But don’t let him back in.

Me: Trust me—I won’t.

After school, Josh was waiting for me at my locker. My heart didn’t flutter when I saw him there; in fact, my first thought was,Does he even own a pair of jeans?

“Hey.” I opened my locker. “Care if I stop by the office on the way out?”

“Sure.”

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