my bag into the back. It kurplunked heavily when it landed. “Thanks, Dad.”
The key stuck when I turned it. I had to swivel the wheel and twist the key at the same time. I rolled down the window. When I looked up at Mom, I noticed the flowers at my bedroom window. “Mom?”
“Hmm?”
“Thanks for theroses.”
“Whatroses?”
My forehead warmed with panic. If she didn’t put them there, then who? I mustered a fake chuckle, hoping she couldn’t tell there was a pit hollowing my stomach. “Oh, I must have put them there before the accident. Iforgot.”
It was difficult raising a smile when I felt so confused. I had no choice but to drive away before my greening face caused a commotion.
Sierra Nevada College was in Nevada, on the northeast side of Lake Tahoe. The lake’s woodsy terrain extended up to the school, providing a generous perimeter of large pines and fir shrubs that filled the air with an evergreen scent. Their buildings were few, featuring large windows and cedar beams that looked sleek against the mountainous backdrop.
I parked on the north side, close to the entrance, near a patch of trees between the dorms and the cafeteria. As I walked toward the buildings, my nose buried in the campus map, a rip of pain drove my fists to my temples. My papers fell everywhere, but I pressed even harder against what felt like brain freeze. When the pain subsided, I glanced at the mess, annoyed. I bent down to pick them up, but another sudden throb pushed deep into my temples like icythorns.
“Ow!”
I was reaching for the papers, squinting against the pain, when I saw another hand grabbing them. I stood up quickly to say thank you, but froze when I recognized the boy from LuckyPin.
His chin was unshaven and full of dark scruff. I could tell he definitely did not just graduate from high school; most boys my age couldn’t grow hair on their faces like that. The smile curling across his face spread from cheek to cheek, too perfectly. I wanted to drool. I gulped and blinked harder. His blue eyes were like quicksand, and I was sinking fast. I felt my heartbeat go irregular when his eyes squinted in sudden amusement. Somewhere in the space below his face, his arm stretched out with my papers. I looked down haphazardly, reminding myself to close my mouth and blink normally as I reached forthem.
“Thanks,” I said, nervously swiping loose hair behind myear.
I looked down because staring at him did something to my ability to move, and worried that I looked pathetic. His bare feet wore the same blue sneakers from that night. I drew my eyes slowly upward, astonished that he was here. I could see outlines of muscles underneath his deep V-neck shirt, as well as his tattoo, which was now a bland black marking. I was staring at it in awe, remembering its glowing blueness, wanting to reach out and touch it, when a sudden change of scent in the air caught my attention. It was the scent that had lingered in my room after the accident. I dared to look back up, feeling stunned . . . and violated. My new, uncontrolled anger took over, and I glared athim.
“You.” I barely managed theword.
He smiled at my obvious frustration and spoke with a Latin accent so hot it startled dormant butterflies in my stomach. “How areyou?”
“You! But . . . how?”
“Mewhat?”
I tried to remain composed, but no one’s voice was that sexy. It made me giddy, which made me angrier.
“The car crash, how did . . .” Suddenly I couldn’t remember what I was going to say. In that instant, a tear of pure horror swelled in the corner of my eye. “Were you in myroom?”
He scuffed his shoes on the pavement. “What? Of course not.” He plastered on a smile, laughing as he held out his hand. “I’m Lucas Castillo.”
I must have sounded ridiculous, accusing a stranger of being in my room, and I had very hesitantly inched my hand into his when I got zapped. It didn’t hurt—it turned into a soft tingle. It was exciting,
The key stuck when I turned it. I had to swivel the wheel and twist the key at the same time. I rolled down the window. When I looked up at Mom, I noticed the flowers at my bedroom window. “Mom?”
“Hmm?”
“Thanks for theroses.”
“Whatroses?”
My forehead warmed with panic. If she didn’t put them there, then who? I mustered a fake chuckle, hoping she couldn’t tell there was a pit hollowing my stomach. “Oh, I must have put them there before the accident. Iforgot.”
It was difficult raising a smile when I felt so confused. I had no choice but to drive away before my greening face caused a commotion.
Sierra Nevada College was in Nevada, on the northeast side of Lake Tahoe. The lake’s woodsy terrain extended up to the school, providing a generous perimeter of large pines and fir shrubs that filled the air with an evergreen scent. Their buildings were few, featuring large windows and cedar beams that looked sleek against the mountainous backdrop.
I parked on the north side, close to the entrance, near a patch of trees between the dorms and the cafeteria. As I walked toward the buildings, my nose buried in the campus map, a rip of pain drove my fists to my temples. My papers fell everywhere, but I pressed even harder against what felt like brain freeze. When the pain subsided, I glanced at the mess, annoyed. I bent down to pick them up, but another sudden throb pushed deep into my temples like icythorns.
“Ow!”
I was reaching for the papers, squinting against the pain, when I saw another hand grabbing them. I stood up quickly to say thank you, but froze when I recognized the boy from LuckyPin.
His chin was unshaven and full of dark scruff. I could tell he definitely did not just graduate from high school; most boys my age couldn’t grow hair on their faces like that. The smile curling across his face spread from cheek to cheek, too perfectly. I wanted to drool. I gulped and blinked harder. His blue eyes were like quicksand, and I was sinking fast. I felt my heartbeat go irregular when his eyes squinted in sudden amusement. Somewhere in the space below his face, his arm stretched out with my papers. I looked down haphazardly, reminding myself to close my mouth and blink normally as I reached forthem.
“Thanks,” I said, nervously swiping loose hair behind myear.
I looked down because staring at him did something to my ability to move, and worried that I looked pathetic. His bare feet wore the same blue sneakers from that night. I drew my eyes slowly upward, astonished that he was here. I could see outlines of muscles underneath his deep V-neck shirt, as well as his tattoo, which was now a bland black marking. I was staring at it in awe, remembering its glowing blueness, wanting to reach out and touch it, when a sudden change of scent in the air caught my attention. It was the scent that had lingered in my room after the accident. I dared to look back up, feeling stunned . . . and violated. My new, uncontrolled anger took over, and I glared athim.
“You.” I barely managed theword.
He smiled at my obvious frustration and spoke with a Latin accent so hot it startled dormant butterflies in my stomach. “How areyou?”
“You! But . . . how?”
“Mewhat?”
I tried to remain composed, but no one’s voice was that sexy. It made me giddy, which made me angrier.
“The car crash, how did . . .” Suddenly I couldn’t remember what I was going to say. In that instant, a tear of pure horror swelled in the corner of my eye. “Were you in myroom?”
He scuffed his shoes on the pavement. “What? Of course not.” He plastered on a smile, laughing as he held out his hand. “I’m Lucas Castillo.”
I must have sounded ridiculous, accusing a stranger of being in my room, and I had very hesitantly inched my hand into his when I got zapped. It didn’t hurt—it turned into a soft tingle. It was exciting,
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