Lessons in Love (Flirt) (12 page)

“Hi, Ling,” I greeted her, my heart sinking as I saw the way she was looking at Logan. Like a fox stalking a squirrel. A poor, innocent, surprisingly good-looking squirrel.

“Can you believe the dog chow they’re passing off as food today?” Ling glanced at Simone’s tray and wrinkled her nose. Then she turned to Logan and smiled. “I hope they warned you that you’re taking your life into your hands trying to eat the food here—especially the beef stew.”

Logan chuckled. “Hey, I’ve eaten boiled caterpillars in Botswana and fried eel skin in Singapore.” He patted his stomach. “Cafeteria food doesn’t scare me.”

Ling looked horrified for a second, then giggled. “Oh, Logan! You’re such a goof.”

I walked faster. My stomach was churning, and it had nothing to do with what Logan had said. Or with the cafeteria food.

Taylor and Megan were at our usual table, along with Zoe, Matt, and Darius. Darius was juggling several tater tots, which was making Megan giggle. But when she saw us coming, her expression went sharp.

“Hey, Ling,” Megan said. “I thought you were going to get rid of those jeans. Because you were right—they’re super unflattering.”

Ling opened her milk carton and took a sip, not even glancing down at her jeans—which, by the way, fit her perfectly and looked great, like everything else she wore. “Nice shirt, Megs,” she said. “Did you get it at the thrift store? It looks like one I donated two years ago.”

Megan touched her shirt. “Actually, I got it at that fancy new boutique at the mall.” Her voice was syrupy sweet, but her green eyes flashed dangerously. “Not that I’d expect you to recognize it, babe. I know that place is too pricey for you.” She turned and flashed a smile at Logan, patting the chair beside her. “Hey, Logan, I saved you a seat.”

Logan paused in the middle of setting his tray down next to Matt’s. “Oh, uh, thanks.” He slid the tray across the table, then squeezed behind Megan to get to the chair.

“Got space over there for me?” Ling followed him, holding her open carton aloft as she pushed past Megan’s chair. “Oops!” she cried, lurching forward.

“Hey!” Megan jumped to her feet as chocolate milk spilled down the front of her shirt.

I gasped, shooting a quick glance at Simone, who looked stunned. Even Matt and Darius had gone silent.

“Oh, no!” Zoe exclaimed. “Megan, your shirt!”

Normally, Megan loved being stared at, but today she looked ready to cry. Or scream. Or possibly kill somebody—specifically Ling.

“Oops! Sorry.” Ling didn’t sound sorry at all as she slipped into the seat on Logan’s other side. “You’d better go to the bathroom and blot that, or it’ll stain.”

Megan gnashed her teeth, and for a second I was afraid she was going to go all WrestleMania on Ling right then and there.

Instead she took a deep breath and shot Logan a rather pained smile. “Be right back.” Without a word to the rest of us, she climbed to her feet and stalked off toward the restrooms.

“I’d better go see if she needs help.” Taylor shot Ling a nervous look, then scurried after Megan.

I just sighed and dug into my not-confirmed-to-be-actual-beef stew. Now that I’d accepted that Logan and I weren’t meant to be together, I only hoped my friends would hurry up and figure out which of them was going to get him so we could all move on with our lives with a minimum of drama and destruction.

By Wednesday I was almost getting used to thinking of Logan as a friend and nothing more. I had a yearbook meeting before school, so I didn’t see him then. When I emerged from first period, I didn’t even stop outside the classroom and scan the halls for him so we could walk to art class together. Okay, I
thought
about doing that. But I didn’t. That was progress, right?

Logan hadn’t arrived yet when I walked into art. Gabi and Gwen were in their usual spots. They glanced up when I reached the table.

“Hey, where’s lover boy?” Gabi asked. “Didn’t he walk you to class today? And carry your books, and offer to buy you a soda pop after school?”

“Very funny.” I dropped my backpack and sat down.

“Seriously, are you and Logan a couple now or what?” Gwen put in. “Because if you are, maybe you could whisper sweet nothings in his ear about trying out for the play.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Logan entering. “Shh!” I hissed at the two girls. “No, we’re not a couple. We’re just friends.”

The two of them traded a skeptical look. “Whatever you say,” Gabi said.

“Yeah.” Gwen smirked. “Lover girl.”

“Hi.” Logan reached the table and grinned at all three of us. “This seat taken?”

“It’s all yours, lov—” A sharp kick from Gabi under the table cut Gwen off midword. When Logan gave her a perplexed look, she smiled sheepishly. “Uh, luv,” she said. “It’s a British thing.”

“Yeah,” Gabi put in helpfully. “She’s calling everyone that today. Right, luv?”

“Totally, luv.” Gwen grinned at Logan. “So listen, luv. Did I mention we’re casting
Camelot
next week?”

When I entered bio that day, Logan was at the front of the room talking to Mr. Ba. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, though Logan’s expression was serious. He nodded a few times, then hurried over to take his seat.

“Is everything okay?” I asked. “You look kind of freaked out.”

For a second I felt proud of myself. That was exactly what I would have said to any of my friends in the same situation. Any of my
other
friends. Since that was what Logan was. A friend. See how well I was doing?

“Mr. Ba changed the plan,” he said with a frown.

“Yeah, he does that. ‘Nothing is constant but change.’”

“Huh?” He blinked at me.

“It’s one of his favorite quotes.” I glanced at Mr. Ba, who was wiping the last period’s lesson off the whiteboard. “Never mind. What plan do you mean?”

“Remember how he was going to have me take that test next week? Now he wants me to take some kind of placement test instead.” Logan swallowed hard. “Tomorrow.”

“A placement test?”

Logan nodded. “He says he wants to figure out what I know. And whether I should stay in this class or maybe transfer to a different one.”

“Transfer?” My mind reeled at the very thought. This was the only class the two of us had together every day!

Whoops. That wasn’t how a friend would react, was it? He’d already admitted he wasn’t that great at science. This was the toughest class open to sophomores, and we were already halfway through the semester. Maybe it
would
be better for him to switch to an easier class. Was that what a friend would suggest?

He didn’t give me much time to think about it. “I need to stay in this class,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “Will you—could you help me study for the placement test? We have that study hall today. . . .”

His eyes were very blue as he gazed at me hopefully. I only hesitated for a second.

“Sure,” I said. “Of course.”

“Awesome!” He grinned and raised his hand for a high five. “I really appreciate it, Bailey.”

“No problem.” I slapped his hand lightly, trying not to second-guess myself. After all, I’d be happy to help any other student who asked for it. Why not my new friend Logan?

Chapter
Eleven

I
know it was her!”
Ling fumed. “I mean, what is she, five years old?”

It was Wednesday afternoon, and Ling and I were in our fifth-period geometry class. Usually I liked sitting with Ling in our regular seats at the back of the room. She was always making sarcastic little quips that made me laugh and kept me awake during Mr. Feeney’s boring lectures about the Pythagorean theorem.

Today? Not so much. All she could talk about was her escalating war with Megan. Specifically, a rumor making the rounds today that Ling had just been diagnosed with mononucleosis.

“You know what they call mono, right?” Ling said quietly, checking to make sure Feeney was still writing on the board. “The kissing disease! Megan’s obviously trying to make Logan think I’m out there kissing random people left and right.”

“That’s not the only way you can get mono,” I pointed out. “You can get it if you drink from the same glass as an infected person, or share a fork, or stuff like that.”

She turned to me, eyebrows arched. “Not the point, Bailey.”

“Okay, okay.” I really wished she’d stop talking about this. The last words I wanted to hear in the same sentence were Logan and kissing. Well, Logan and kissing and Ling. Or Megan. Or anyone else except maybe . . .

No. I had to keep my imagination under control. Logan and I were friends. And friends did
not
kiss. Or even think about kissing. One friend certainly didn’t wonder if the other friend’s lips were as soft as they looked. . . .

Okay, now I could feel my face turning red. I sank down in my seat, trying to hide my consternation from Ling.

No such luck. The girl notices everything. Especially the stuff you don’t want her to notice.

“What’s the matter with you?” she demanded. “Your face is going all blotchy.”

“Really?” I forced a cough. “Uh-oh, maybe I’m coming down with something. Wouldn’t it be ironic if it was mono?”

“Well, don’t breathe on me just in case.” She scooted her chair a little farther away.

“You can’t actually get mono from . . . never mind,” I said.

Ling glanced at Mr. Feeney again, then leaned back toward me. “Anyway, you have study hall with Logan today, right? If you get a chance to bring it up, tell him those rumors definitely aren’t true, okay? And tell him Megan’s a psycho while you’re at it.”

Just then Mr. Feeney turned around and started blabbing about Euclid, saving me from having to answer.

When I emerged from sixth-period English, I found Simone lurking outside the door. “What are you doing here?” I asked. “Didn’t you just have Spanish on the other side of the building?”

“I told Señora Garcia I had cramps so she’d let me leave early.” She grabbed my arm and dragged me in the direction of the girls’ bathroom. “I wanted to be here in case you need my help touching up before study hall.”

“What? Why would I need to touch up before study hall?”

“I’m just saying, a little blush and some eyeliner wouldn’t kill you.” Simone patted her bag, which I knew contained a plethora of makeup options. “You’re so pretty, Bailey. If you’d play up your best features just a teensy bit more, you’d be even more gorgeous.”