“Can I tell you to shut your pieholes?”

“Uh-oh . . .” Chelsea mocked. “Someone’s cranky.”

“Maybe she’s hungry. Her blood sugar’s probably low,” Claire offered. Jules and Chelsea started cracking up, while Claire just stared at them, trying to figure out what she’d missed.

“I’m not hungry,” Violet retorted, just as she saw Jay coming toward her.

“Oh, snap! Check this out,” Chelsea said conspiratorially, elbowing Jules. She pointed to Gemma and Rafe, who were also heading right toward them, drawing whispers and stares. “Jay doesn’t like Rafe, but Rafe likes Violet—I mean, V. And the girl, the one who isn’t really his sister—” She turned to Violet now, interrupting her narration. “Wait, what was her name again?”

“Gemma,” Violet answered listlessly, giving up and letting her friends have their fun.

“Okay, yeah, Gemma. Gemma doesn’t like Violet or Rafe as far as I can tell. She’s kinda nasty, that one. But she definitely likes Jay, or at least I think she does. She was all over him in third period.” Violet glanced up at them, suddenly more interested in Chelsea’s running commentary than she wanted to be. Chelsea’s voice dropped to an almost-whisper just as all three of the people she was discussing converged on the table at once. “This is about to get real.”

They stood there, the three of them—Jay, Rafe, and Gemma—all looking down at the open spaces at the table as if deciding who would sit where. Violet reached for Jay’s hand, making his decision for him as she pulled him down to sit beside her, scooting over to make room.

And then her mouth practically fell open when she realized that Gemma was actually trying to squeeze herself into the nonexistent space on the other side of him. Gemma smiled at the boy who sat on the long bench on the other side of her, batting her long lashes and puckering her lips, until he willingly made room for her. When he smiled back, he sheepishly revealed braces and could barely maintain eye contact with her. But he didn’t seem to mind when she sandwiched herself between him and Jay. Why would he, Violet thought? Gemma was probably the hottest girl who’d ever pressed herself against him.

Violet, on the other hand, minded a great deal.

Rafe seemed oblivious as he rounded the table, to the other side, where Jules and Chelsea parted like the Red Sea to make a spot just for him.

Violet leaned forward on her elbows, hovering across the top as she narrowed her eyes on Rafe. “You realize everyone’s calling me that now, don’t you?”

“What? V? I thought you liked it.”

She pursed her lips, counting silently to herself before responding. She didn’t want to lose her temper. Not here, in front of everyone. “No, Rafe, you didn’t. I told you I didn’t, and you stood right up there in front of the entire class and told them it was my favorite nickname. And what was all that stuff about me playing the banjo?”

Claire stopped chewing long enough to ask, “So that’s not true either? I thought that was kinda cool.”

“You know we’re probably getting an F, don’t you?” Violet finished, ignoring Claire.

“An F . . . for introductions?” Rafe turned to Jay then, petitioning for an ally. “Come on, man. Help me out here. She’s being a little dramatic, right?”

Violet glanced up at Jay and saw a flicker of something she recognized all too well, the hint of amusement. Her lips tightened as she locked eyes with him.

He raised his brows, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Leave me out of this,” he said to both of them, laughing just a little too easily. “I don’t wanna get involved in your battles.” And then he grinned at Violet, looking intentionally contrite. “That was the right thing to say, wasn’t it?”

Across from them, Chelsea pretended to cough the word “whipped” while Gemma cupped her chin in her hands as she watched Jay and Violet with more interest than she should have. “Is she always this . . . controlling?”

Violet glared at Gemma, but it only made Gemma’s lips bow upward. A smile that could pass for a sneer, depending on who it was directed at. And when she looked at Violet, it was definitely a sneer, no matter how pretty it was.

Inside, Violet felt her emotions churn at the prospect of spending even another hour, let alone a week or an entire semester, under the same roof as Gemma and Rafe on a daily basis. They were her teammates, sure, but they were also stirring up trouble in the part of her life she’d always considered her own. The one she tried to keep separate from the secrets of the team and her ability.

After stopping at the office to talk to the counselor about the possibility of changing some of her classes so she wouldn’t have to spend the majority of her school day with Rafe, she reached the biology lab just after the bell sounded . . . which meant, on top of everything else, she was tardy.

It also meant there were only two seats still available by the time she’d arrived. She was surprised to find that Gemma was in this class with her. She hadn’t bothered to look at the other girl’s schedule. In fact, it hadn’t even crossed her mind they might actually share classes together.

The other thing that threw her off was that the seat next to Gemma was one of the two that remained vacant. Considering Gemma had been the star of the show today—at least where the boys were concerned—she would have expected to find them clamoring to sit beside her.

But when Violet glanced at the seat, she realized why it was still open. Gemma’s designer book bag was already sitting there, and Gemma had already started unpacking her stuff and spreading out. It was clear she intended to take up more than her fair share of the lab table.