these problems.”
“Yes, sir,” we both mumbled.
I glanced at Rashid, and his eyes practically danced with suppressed laughter. An answering smile quivered on my mouth before
I controlled myself and looked down at my textbook. He didn’t have to come to my rescue. And he didn’t have to think Jackson’s
pompousness was funny.
What was funny was a guy like him having a sense of humor. How could you have perfect grammar and the ability to laugh at
things at the same time? I didn’t need another reason to like the guy. And I really didn’t want to remember that sparkle in
his eyes.
No. Uh-uh. My heart belonged to Danyel.
DGeary
Help me? I need some info.
CAragon
This is a surprise.
DGeary
Why surprise? All Brett’s friends are friends. Cool?
CAragon
I hope it’s not math-related. Calculus. Blech.
DGeary
Man-related.
CAragon
Sorry, wrong number.
DGeary
Ha. What’s with Shani and the prince?
CAragon
??
DGeary
Emily sent me a text second period. She thinks something’s going on.
CAragon
She’s overthinking.
DGeary
Emily has a hard time getting to think, never mind overthink. No, huh?
CAragon
I have inside info. Definitely no.
DGeary
Good.
CAragon
Why?
DGeary
Thanks. Gotta go.
AT LUNCH, RASHID took me up on my offer and staked out our tables. He’d even had the bodyguards—let’s call them the BGs for short, okay?—push
them together. Within minutes, the rowing team showed up and mobbed it, then Carly and Brett, and finally, my girls.
Somebody must have taken the prince aside and given him the dish on high school social skills. Or maybe he was a quick study.
Anyway, there was no hogging of ketchup or sly remarks about couples. Instead, the guy acted like a normal person—or as normal
as you can be when your net worth has nine zeros.
Carly leaned over under the cover of a series of good-natured insults about international soccer teams. “There’s weirdness
afoot.”
“What else is new?”
“DeLayne Geary IM’d me to find out if you and Rashid had a thing.”
I don’t know which was more surprising: DeLayne speaking voluntarily outside her caste, or her asking nosy questions about
me. I don’t think we’ve said more than six words to each other since we parted ways in freshman year.
“What’d you tell her?”
“I said I had the inside scoop. Definitely no.” She gave me the kind of look that sees into your brain. “I hope that was right.”
“Of course it was right. Are you kidding me?”
She leaned back. “Just checking.”
I grabbed her arm before she got out of whisper space. “I’m serious. There is no thing. You know how I feel about—about someone
else.” I stopped as Tate leaned between us to set down a plate piled high with enough triple chocolate cake to put us all
into orbit for the afternoon.
Not quite enough to go around, however, when half your table is jocks. A minute later, Lissa reached for the empty plate.
Rashid stopped her. “Allow me.”
He took it to the dessert bar and loaded it up again. But instead of giving it to Lissa so she could start it around to everyone
who’d missed out, he held it out to me.
“Please.”
“Uh. Thanks.” This guy really was a quick study. Not to mention good at improv—he’d gone from being served by the BGs to serving
random girls in twenty-four hours flat.
Lissa pounced on the next piece of cake, and within seconds the rest of it was gone. “Thanks, Rashid.” He looked pleased,
a little smile curving his mouth. I guess when it’s the first time you’ve ever served someone, you’d want to know they appreciated
it.
A glance at the clock told me I had just enough time to scoot upstairs and grab my philosophy books and the music I’d chosen
for Individual Voice this afternoon. “See you later,” I told Lissa. “What’s going on after school? Anything interesting?”
“Nothing. Call me and we’ll figure something out.”
Philosophy is really math disguised as critical thinking
“Yes, sir,” we both mumbled.
I glanced at Rashid, and his eyes practically danced with suppressed laughter. An answering smile quivered on my mouth before
I controlled myself and looked down at my textbook. He didn’t have to come to my rescue. And he didn’t have to think Jackson’s
pompousness was funny.
What was funny was a guy like him having a sense of humor. How could you have perfect grammar and the ability to laugh at
things at the same time? I didn’t need another reason to like the guy. And I really didn’t want to remember that sparkle in
his eyes.
No. Uh-uh. My heart belonged to Danyel.
DGeary
Help me? I need some info.
CAragon
This is a surprise.
DGeary
Why surprise? All Brett’s friends are friends. Cool?
CAragon
I hope it’s not math-related. Calculus. Blech.
DGeary
Man-related.
CAragon
Sorry, wrong number.
DGeary
Ha. What’s with Shani and the prince?
CAragon
??
DGeary
Emily sent me a text second period. She thinks something’s going on.
CAragon
She’s overthinking.
DGeary
Emily has a hard time getting to think, never mind overthink. No, huh?
CAragon
I have inside info. Definitely no.
DGeary
Good.
CAragon
Why?
DGeary
Thanks. Gotta go.
AT LUNCH, RASHID took me up on my offer and staked out our tables. He’d even had the bodyguards—let’s call them the BGs for short, okay?—push
them together. Within minutes, the rowing team showed up and mobbed it, then Carly and Brett, and finally, my girls.
Somebody must have taken the prince aside and given him the dish on high school social skills. Or maybe he was a quick study.
Anyway, there was no hogging of ketchup or sly remarks about couples. Instead, the guy acted like a normal person—or as normal
as you can be when your net worth has nine zeros.
Carly leaned over under the cover of a series of good-natured insults about international soccer teams. “There’s weirdness
afoot.”
“What else is new?”
“DeLayne Geary IM’d me to find out if you and Rashid had a thing.”
I don’t know which was more surprising: DeLayne speaking voluntarily outside her caste, or her asking nosy questions about
me. I don’t think we’ve said more than six words to each other since we parted ways in freshman year.
“What’d you tell her?”
“I said I had the inside scoop. Definitely no.” She gave me the kind of look that sees into your brain. “I hope that was right.”
“Of course it was right. Are you kidding me?”
She leaned back. “Just checking.”
I grabbed her arm before she got out of whisper space. “I’m serious. There is no thing. You know how I feel about—about someone
else.” I stopped as Tate leaned between us to set down a plate piled high with enough triple chocolate cake to put us all
into orbit for the afternoon.
Not quite enough to go around, however, when half your table is jocks. A minute later, Lissa reached for the empty plate.
Rashid stopped her. “Allow me.”
He took it to the dessert bar and loaded it up again. But instead of giving it to Lissa so she could start it around to everyone
who’d missed out, he held it out to me.
“Please.”
“Uh. Thanks.” This guy really was a quick study. Not to mention good at improv—he’d gone from being served by the BGs to serving
random girls in twenty-four hours flat.
Lissa pounced on the next piece of cake, and within seconds the rest of it was gone. “Thanks, Rashid.” He looked pleased,
a little smile curving his mouth. I guess when it’s the first time you’ve ever served someone, you’d want to know they appreciated
it.
A glance at the clock told me I had just enough time to scoot upstairs and grab my philosophy books and the music I’d chosen
for Individual Voice this afternoon. “See you later,” I told Lissa. “What’s going on after school? Anything interesting?”
“Nothing. Call me and we’ll figure something out.”
Philosophy is really math disguised as critical thinking
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