Page 61 of Just a Little White Lie

Aw, crap, please don’t recognize me.

Another boy struts to the front of the pack and holds up a scrap of paper. “If we’re gonna do this, we’re not going as the Haven Hoofers.”

Much to Lauren’s credit, she tips her head with an open expression and says, “Okay, fine. What do you want to be, then?”

“Well, we brainstormed over break, and we’ve come up with a few options.”

He hands her the note, and I step behind her so I can read over her shoulder.

Haven Outcasts

Haven Dance Crew

Haven Hooligans

Haven Dance Heads

Haven Misfits

Haven Prima Donnas

I wrinkle my nose. “Don’t like Outcasts. That’s kind of negative, right?”

She looks up at me, and I nod. “And what’s up with Hooligans? Dance Crew… maybe?”

“Dance Crew’s boring as!” a girl with purple lipstick complains.

I glance at her, wondering if she’s allowed to wear makeup like that. Schools like Haven Academy are usually super strict over uniform, hairstyles, nail polish, makeup. I was always being told off for my hair being too long when I went to high school. I remember one time, the principal called my parents and forced them to take me for a haircut. I was livid.

“So that leaves Misfits, then.” Lauren looks at the students, who all start nodding. “You sure? It’s kind of self-deprecating, isn’t it?”

“Only if you choose to look at it that way.” The boy who handed her the note fights a grin. “Face it, Miss. It’s what we are. Might as well own it.”

I step aside in time to catch Lauren’s affectionate smile. She’s kind of beaming at the small crew, and then she turns that sunshine onto me.

I nod because I can’t do anything else. She’s so freaking beautiful.

“Okay.” She turns back to the students. “So, you guys want to be the Haven Misfits?”

“Yeah!” A boy at the back punches his fist in the air.

She giggles. “All in favor?”

It’s unanimous. “All righty, then, I’ll go ahead and change that during my lunch break.” She slips the note into her pocket. “For now, we need to get some work done. The bell’s just rung, and we’ve got ninety minutes to pick a song and learn some moves.”

“Usher was lame,” Mav reiterates.

I can’t help a derisive snort, and Lauren turns to me, laying her fingers on my arm. The connection sends a fiery tingle shooting along my skin, and she quickly drops her hand as if she could feel it to.

Turning to the class, she points her thumb at me. “Guys, this is Jack. He’s agreed to help us with a little choreography. He used to dance a lot in high school and won a bunch of competitions.”

“Like twenty years ago,” Mav scoffs.

I give the boy a pointed look. “Stop being such a smartass. And it was less than fifteen years, okay?”

“Why do you look familiar?” Miss Purple Lips calls from the floor. “Have I seen you before?”

My insides clench, and I smash my teeth together, shaking my head and gritting out, “Nope.”

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