Page 63 of Just a Little White Lie

I try to learn their names as I go and keep calling out instructions. I correct where I need to, bite back when a little too much attitude is thrown my way, and eventually get these guys working in sync.

“Okay, let’s try it with some music.” Spinning to face the front, I point at Lauren. “Press Play, DJ Shorty.”

A few kids laugh while Lauren tries to scowl at me, but she just ends up laughing with the rest of them.

I kind of can’t help my love affair with nicknames. They’ve only ever been for her, but it’s a habit I started as a teen, and I never want to break it, because I can’t resist the varied looks I get every time I call her something new.

LAUREN

Jack stayed until the lunch bell. He seemed in a good mood until the final student trailed out of the studio, and then a look swept over him. It was sad and borderline devastated before he quickly pulled himself into line.

“Are you okay?” I’m about to walk across to him, but he holds up his hand like a stop sign.

“All good. Hope that was helpful.”

“Yes! Oh my gosh, like soooo helpful. I can’t do this without you.”

He swallows, his jaw clenching. “Well, um, I said I would, so…” The tip of his tongue darts out the side of his mouth, and he rests his hands on his hips—guy style—which only amplifies how hot he is. “I can’t be here all the time, though, but I am free this weekend to figure out a routine and teach it to you. Then you can show the crew.”

That makes me nervous, but I nod and say, “Okay.”

“See ya ’round.” He gives me a quick wave, then darts out the door.

I stare at the empty space he left behind and don’t know whether to laugh, whoop, or cry with relief. There’s a chance we just might pull this off.

“Haven Misfits,” I murmur with a smile, then sit down to change the group name before I forget.

It was trickier than I’d hoped and takes a phone call as well, but by the end of the lunch break, the crew has been officially retitled, and I head up to cover an English class with a bounce in my step.

After school, I impulsively pop into the library to tell April what I’ve done. I know she’ll be proud of me, and she totally is.

“That’s so cool!” Her childlike enthusiasm warms me to the core.

She really is such a sweetheart.

“What’s cool?” Bianca walks up to the desk, placing a book down and blushing when both April and I give her an inquisitive look.

“Anna and the French Kiss? How are you tying that to music?”

“I’m not.” She blushes. “I want to read it.”

I raise my eyebrows at her, and she giggles.

“What can I say? I’m addicted to YA romance.”

“I love that you are.” April grabs the book to check it out.

Bianca gives her a grateful smile, then tucks a long strand of red hair behind her ear and turns to me. “What’s cool?”

“I’ve signed that dance class up for Dance-Mania. They’ll be competing at the end of May.”

Her gasp is sweet and encouraging, her smile making me beam. “That is awesome. They so need it. I’m stoked. And you managed to get Marjorie to sign off on it?”

“Who’s Marjorie?”

“Marjorie Howlett, head of the music department. Have you not met her yet?”

“No rush.” April’s eyebrows rise above her glasses frames as she mouths, “Scary lady.”

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