downplaying her excitement admirably.
‘Win – this is huge! I mean, when was the last time you met a guy? Or even talked to one?’
It wasn’t surprising that Jasmine seemed more interested in Blake than the fact that Winter had nearly been crushed to death. Nevertheless, Winter felt a little insulted by Jasmine’s insinuation. Winter might not be the most popular girl in school, but it didn’t mean she was some sad, dateless loser! She counted the number of dates she’d been on this year and was disappointed bythe result. As much as she’d like to blame the death of her parents for her miserable social life, it wouldn’t be honest. The phone hadn’t exactly been ringing off the hook before.
‘I talk to boys every day.’ It was true. Winter occasionally had to borrow a pen from Damien McNamarra who sat next to her in biology, and sometimes Hugo Rhymes asked Winter to explain a maths problem.
Jasmine rolled her eyes. ‘You know what I mean!’
‘I don’t see what you’re getting so excited about.’
Jasmine smirked, finally catching on to Winter’s nonchalant act.
‘Winter Adams, you are quite the dark horse, aren’t you?’
Winter felt her cheeks redden. She fought against the blush that would give away her true feelings. Fought and lost.
‘I suppose it was pretty cool,’ she admitted finally. ‘Blake is . . .’ She struggled to find words that would do him justice. ‘He’s —’
‘
Winter and Jasmine!
’
The two girls jumped. The classroom fell completely silent as Mrs Lathkey regarded them sternly.
‘As neither of you seems particularly interested in what I have to say, perhaps you’d both like to offer your own thoughts about Brontë’s use of Gothic imagery?’
Winter gulped and shot a sideways look at Jasmine, who appeared similarly mortified at being put on the spot. Mrs Lathkey folded her arms and waited expectantlyfor one of the girls to speak. Unlike Jasmine, Winter had actually read
Jane Eyre
, and rather enjoyed it, but understanding a story and being able to analyse it were two completely separate things.
Winter took a breath, hoping that her tongue would somehow be able to operate independently of her brain and spin gold from her dry saliva. ‘Well, I suppose —’
There was a knock at the classroom door.
Mrs Lathkey smiled cruelly at Winter. ‘Don’t think you’re getting off that easily.’ As she went to open the door, Winter let the breath she’d been holding rush out and racked her brains for something intelligent to say about the novel.
‘Oh. My. God.’
Winter looked up and saw a slow smile spread across Jasmine’s face. She followed her friend’s lustful gaze to the front of the room, where Mrs Lathkey was standing next to a boy Winter had never seen before.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, and with his blond buzz-cut and heavily muscled arms, looked like the sort of guy who spent all his spare time in the gym. However, there didn’t seem to be any of that annoying arrogance that some of the football jocks wore like a badge of honour. Instead, the new boy seemed a little awkward in his skin, as if he’d just woken up this morning in this new adult body and wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. He wasn’t Winter’s type – not with those bulging muscles – but she could appreciate why Jasmine had reacted so strongly. The new boy was something.
‘Everybody, this is Sam Bennet.’ Mrs Lathkey began her introduction. ‘Sam will be joining us for the rest of the semester. Why don’t you take a seat, Sam?’ Mrs Lathkey squinted as she scanned the classroom for a place for Sam. Finally her eyes alighted on the empty desk next to Winter. ‘Up the back, next to Jasmine. Winter, move over one, please.’
Winter reluctantly shifted across, creating a space for Sam to sit. Being split from Jasmine was an endurable punishment if it meant she’d escape speaking in front of the class.
Sam squeezed his huge frame down the aisle and took his seat
‘Win – this is huge! I mean, when was the last time you met a guy? Or even talked to one?’
It wasn’t surprising that Jasmine seemed more interested in Blake than the fact that Winter had nearly been crushed to death. Nevertheless, Winter felt a little insulted by Jasmine’s insinuation. Winter might not be the most popular girl in school, but it didn’t mean she was some sad, dateless loser! She counted the number of dates she’d been on this year and was disappointed bythe result. As much as she’d like to blame the death of her parents for her miserable social life, it wouldn’t be honest. The phone hadn’t exactly been ringing off the hook before.
‘I talk to boys every day.’ It was true. Winter occasionally had to borrow a pen from Damien McNamarra who sat next to her in biology, and sometimes Hugo Rhymes asked Winter to explain a maths problem.
Jasmine rolled her eyes. ‘You know what I mean!’
‘I don’t see what you’re getting so excited about.’
Jasmine smirked, finally catching on to Winter’s nonchalant act.
‘Winter Adams, you are quite the dark horse, aren’t you?’
Winter felt her cheeks redden. She fought against the blush that would give away her true feelings. Fought and lost.
‘I suppose it was pretty cool,’ she admitted finally. ‘Blake is . . .’ She struggled to find words that would do him justice. ‘He’s —’
‘
Winter and Jasmine!
’
The two girls jumped. The classroom fell completely silent as Mrs Lathkey regarded them sternly.
‘As neither of you seems particularly interested in what I have to say, perhaps you’d both like to offer your own thoughts about Brontë’s use of Gothic imagery?’
Winter gulped and shot a sideways look at Jasmine, who appeared similarly mortified at being put on the spot. Mrs Lathkey folded her arms and waited expectantlyfor one of the girls to speak. Unlike Jasmine, Winter had actually read
Jane Eyre
, and rather enjoyed it, but understanding a story and being able to analyse it were two completely separate things.
Winter took a breath, hoping that her tongue would somehow be able to operate independently of her brain and spin gold from her dry saliva. ‘Well, I suppose —’
There was a knock at the classroom door.
Mrs Lathkey smiled cruelly at Winter. ‘Don’t think you’re getting off that easily.’ As she went to open the door, Winter let the breath she’d been holding rush out and racked her brains for something intelligent to say about the novel.
‘Oh. My. God.’
Winter looked up and saw a slow smile spread across Jasmine’s face. She followed her friend’s lustful gaze to the front of the room, where Mrs Lathkey was standing next to a boy Winter had never seen before.
He was tall and broad-shouldered, and with his blond buzz-cut and heavily muscled arms, looked like the sort of guy who spent all his spare time in the gym. However, there didn’t seem to be any of that annoying arrogance that some of the football jocks wore like a badge of honour. Instead, the new boy seemed a little awkward in his skin, as if he’d just woken up this morning in this new adult body and wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. He wasn’t Winter’s type – not with those bulging muscles – but she could appreciate why Jasmine had reacted so strongly. The new boy was something.
‘Everybody, this is Sam Bennet.’ Mrs Lathkey began her introduction. ‘Sam will be joining us for the rest of the semester. Why don’t you take a seat, Sam?’ Mrs Lathkey squinted as she scanned the classroom for a place for Sam. Finally her eyes alighted on the empty desk next to Winter. ‘Up the back, next to Jasmine. Winter, move over one, please.’
Winter reluctantly shifted across, creating a space for Sam to sit. Being split from Jasmine was an endurable punishment if it meant she’d escape speaking in front of the class.
Sam squeezed his huge frame down the aisle and took his seat
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