Page 9 of Harvest Moon (Riverbend 3)

She could dispute the pairing. But she wasn’t exactly Mr.Foster’s favorite student. He didn’t seem to appreciate that she sometimes challenged his grading. But she would simply explain that she and Gavin had irreconcilable differences.

Or better yet... maybe Gavin would ask for another partner—of course he would. He hated her. And Mr.FosterlovedGavin.

When the bell rang she gathered her books, peering at Gavin from beneath her lashes, silently begging him to approach Mr.Foster’s desk. Instead he exited the room with his gaggle of jocks, seemingly unperturbed by the pairing.

Great. Now it was all up to her. Heart in her throat, she shuffled toward Mr.Foster, who was wiping the dry-erase board clean.

“No, Ms.Jenkins, you may not switch partners.”

Laurel blinked. He hadn’t even turned around. “But what if—?”

“It’s not about the cards you’re dealt, but how you play the hand.”

He was always quoting someone. Laurel barely stopped an eyeroll—he’d probably see that too.

“Do you know who said that, Ms.Jenkins?” he asked as he continued erasing.

“No, sir.”

“Randy Pausch, a notable educator who died of pancreaticcancer. If he managed the cards he was dealt, I think you can manage yours. He authored a book entitledThe Last Lecture. You should avail yourself of it. I think you’d find it most inspiring.”

“Yes, sir.” He definitely wasn’t going to let her out of this. As she left the room Laurel’s hopes deflated like an old balloon.

Maybe she could talk Gavin into asking him. But no way could she let Gavin know just how much this matchup bothered her. No, she was stuck with him.

Two days passed. Then three. Then it was Friday. The project proposal was due Monday, and they hadn’t even spoken about it. In fact they hadn’t spoken in three weeks, since he found her blocking the path to his locker.“Outtamy way, Short Stuff.”

She squirmed through English class. In two hours school would be over. Why hadn’t he approached her yet? She couldn’t call him—she didn’t even have his number. And besides, just the thought of calling Gavin Robinson made her itchy all over. If he didn’t come see her after class, she would have to approach him, an idea that ranked somewhere between water torture and death by firing squad.

But of course when the bell rang, he gathered his things and made a beeline for the door with his baseball buddies.

Drat!Why hadn’t he approached her?She knew he cared about his grades. He was probably just trying to get under her skin—and it was working!

Laurel quickly gathered her things and caught up with his group just outside the door. “Gavin.”

The whole group turned, staring down at her as if they’d never seen her before.(Who are you? Do you even go here?)

Gavin faced her, disinterest lining those cold blue eyes.

Her cheeks flamed. “I—we haven’t discussed our project yet.”

“So?”

“So, the proposal is due Monday.”

He stared at her until she was sure her face was crimson. Finally, without tearing his gaze from her, he said, “See you guys after school.”

The rest of the group melded into the crowd, flowing down the hallway, leaving the two of them in the open space between the door and wall of lockers.

He cocked a brow, giving her his supreme look of boredom. “Mr.Foster wouldn’t let you switch partners, huh?”

She pressed her lips together. “When would you like to meet up and discuss the project? I have some ideas.”

“I’m sure you do.”

She blinked up at him, unable to think of a good retort. Why was she so tongue-tied around him? How tall was he anyway? And when had his shoulders gotten so broad? “How about Saturday night at the library?”

“I have plans.”

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