Page 27 of My Debacle with De Lorenzo

“What?”

“You said objectively, which disregards your personal opinion. What about subjectively?”

“Subjectively? Uh...subjectively, you’re...you’re sexy as fuck.”

His response stuns me. I usually get a mash-up of weird insults and rejection, so I was not expecting that at all. I’m not sure how I feel about this unexpected compliment. A little excited. A little flustered. These are not things I feel often. Heat creeps up my neck and spreads onto my cheeks. The fact that he’s trying to avoid eye contact only makes me blush more. “Are you trying to sweet-talk me?”

“Nope.”

“You sure? So, that wasn’t some word-honey for this love-bunny? You’re not trying to butter up this butter cup?”

“Not at all.”

“That wasn’t you trying to...cajole for this hole?”

A surprised laugh reddens that cute tint on his cheeks. “Fuck, no! Where do you get this shit? I’m notcajolingor trying to sweet-talk you.” He tosses his backpack over his shoulder. “Are we walking?”

I head down the corridor with him, but I can’t shake this feeling. And the more I think about it, the more I...like it. “It definitely sounded like you were flirting. That tiny bit of sweetness you just threw at me—was that the frosting for all the cupcaking you’re doing?”

“I’m not cupcaking.” He laughs with a slight eye-roll. “Bella, it’s not flirting to state a fact. Are you hot? Yes! Like any song featuring Pitbull—Superhot.”

“Weird reference, but okay.”

“I’m not even gonna deny that. But you’re also at a level of crazy that exceeds my limit, which automatically places a barrier on any form ofactualflirting.” His tone is so clinical and precise that I’m more intrigued than insulted by his words.

He gets his usual string of greetings from girls as we pass them in the hallway. Charlotte with her high-pitchedhi(she doesn’t greet me), and Nicole with her accompanying sultry hand that slides down his forearm. He’s completely oblivious to the fact that they’re trying to get his attention, but I don’t care about that right now. I want some answers.

“This is not the first time you’ve said this to me. What exactly is your limit of crazy?”

“There’s a whole system on how it works. We have three minutes before school starts, and it will take longer than that to explain it to you.”

“A system? You’ve piqued my interest. Why don’t you tell me during lunch?”

“I promised Kyle I would help him finish his essay during lunch today.”

“After school?”

“I really shouldn’t be...hanging out with you...outside of these ten minutes.” Based on that, I’m guessing the essay with Kyle was just an excuse. He ends the conversation there and takes a few steps toward his class, but then he stops and walks back to me. Staring at the floor, he debates his next words with himself before he finally lifts his head to look at me. “Uh...I have a half an hour gap after school before practice starts. If you really want to know, you can meet me here, and I’ll explain the system to you.”

“Deal. So, I should meet you here?”

“Yeah.”

I shuffle a little closer to him. “Right here?”

“Yes.”

“Right here?”

I move a few inches closer, close enough for my chest to rub against his, and his breath catches. He gets so annoyed when I do things like that, and I pull my lips in to stop a smile when he glares at me like I’m an insolent child.

“Yes.”

I lift onto my toes, angling my mouth up towards those perfect cherry-red lips. “Right here?”

He presses his forefinger against my mouth, using just enough force to push back until I’m flat on my heels again. His brown eyes hold mine and I see the flicker of something more than irritation. His forefinger slowly drags down my upper lip, almost as if he’s assessing the suppleness of it, and as it moves over my lower lip, my tongue darts out to lick the tip of it.

“Jesus.” That flicker in his eye flares to life before he immediately yanks his hand away, and he’s back to being irritated. “Why do you like fucking with me?”

---