“What’s up with those two anyway?” Glitch asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, “but something’s not right.”

“Hell-o.” Brooklyn waved a hand in front of our faces. “Their mother practically abandoned them, running off with that investment broker like she did. And I heard the divorce was heartbreaking. She didn’t even ask for custody of the girls.”

“That had to be painful, I know, but that was months ago, Brooke. This is different. They’re different. Desperate.” I tapped my fingers on the table in thought as Brooke took another bite of my salad. “I’m telling you, something is very wrong.”

“That’s too bad. I’d be more concerned if I weren’t so busy breathing.” When I cast her a look of amazement, she continued, “Those two are evil, Lor. Did I ever tell you about the time they tripped me in the sack race?”

Only 729 times. While my archenemy was Tabitha Sind, Brooke had always felt a tad resentful toward Ash and Syd. Things had never been the same since they took the sack race trophy at the fall festival. True, it happened in the third grade, but things like that were hard to get over. Apparently.

“Well, here,” Glitch said, interrupting our conversation to hand me a small box.

“What’s this?” Glitch wasn’t exactly the gift-giving type. I had to force him to buy Brooklyn a birthday present every year, and I was pretty secure in the knowledge that she had to do the same thing for me on mine.

He shrugged. “Just something to maybe help you feel better.”

Feel better about what? I opened the lid to find a shimmering gold pendant on a delicate chain. It was a sculpture of a mother and a father with a child in their arms. After a soft gasp, I lifted it out of the box and turned it over. It read FOREVER.

I sat stunned for a solid minute, astonishment sucking the air from my lungs, before looking back up at him.

“It’s nothing really,” he said, playing it off as only a guy could. “You know, for your parents and all.”

After swallowing back the lump that suddenly formed in my throat, I said, “Glitch, I don’t know what to say.”

“Neither do I,” Brooklyn said, baffled. “Way to score brownie points, G.” She raised her hand for a high five, but he hit her with an annoyed glower instead.

Lifting her brows in pure attitude, she took the necklace from me and fastened it around my neck as I held up my hair.

I turned toward them when she’d finished. “What do you think?”

Brooklyn nodded. “You did good, Glitch.”

He shrugged again and stuffed the last of his burger into his mouth. Boys were so funny.

Letting the cool metal slide between my fingers, I was just about to thank him when a thick hush blanketed the cafeteria. I looked up just in time to see Jared walk in. My stomach clenched at the sight of him.

“Holy Häagen-Dazs,” Brooklyn said, repeating her earlier sentiment. Every head swiveled toward the new guy as he strolled to the counter serving pizza. Brooklyn sighed. “He wears jeans so well.”

I nodded, mesmerized.

“And his muscles gather in all the right places.”

“Please,” Glitch said with a snort, “my muscles gather just as well as his.” We both gave him a quick, dumbfounded look, and he hugged himself self-consciously. “Stop.”

Slowly the dull roar of conversation gained volume again. Everyone around us seemed to be talking about Jared. Except for the Goths. They were still staring. Then again, so was I.

“You know, when you told me he was good-looking,” Brooklyn said without taking her eyes off Jared, “I had no idea you meant godlike good-looking.”

I simply nodded again and continued my vigil. Jared’s white T-shirt hung past the slim waistband of his jeans, gathering at his hips. His biceps rose and stretched the material at the sleeves, and his forearms corded with taut muscles as he stepped into the line for pizza. Then I locked on to the dark hair that curled over his ears, the touch of shadow along his jawline.

The server said something, and he looked to the side, appearing bashful. My heart stopped in response.

“Heaven help us,” Brooklyn said.

He clearly affected Brooke the same way he did me.

“Uh, Lor…,” she said, elbowing me again.

I was right there with her. Jared had turned with his tray and was staring straight at me as though wondering if he should join us or not.

After a moment—and a light head rush—I resupplied my red blood cells with oxygen and waved him to our table rather enthusiastically. If the bashful smile he flashed me was any indication, he didn’t seem to mind.

“Oh, my god,” Brooklyn said. She swung a surprised look at me. “Just what did you two talk about this morning?”

I beamed, not daring to breathe, as he walked toward us. “Oh, you know, the usual. School. The weather. How many children we want.”

I expected Brooklyn to at least giggle, but apparently her current state of shock had immobilized her vocal cords. What I hadn’t expected, however, was the faint laughter from Jared. He lowered his eyes like before, as though embarrassed by what someone had said. As if embarrassed by what I’d said. No way could he have heard me. Not from that far away.

“Jared,” I said when he got close, “sit with us.”

But before he could respond, Cameron cut him off. He stepped right between us, his tall frame blocking my view of Jared. I had to scoot to the side to see past him.