Lessons in Love (Flirt) (6 page)

“Right, yeah.” I shot a confused look at Gabi, who was already chattering to Gwen again. What had that been about? Did Gabi really think Logan and I were hitting it off?

That led to the obvious question—could she be onto something? Which led to the corollary question—what if Simone had been right all along? I had to admit, the evidence was starting to mount up. The pounding heart whenever I saw Logan. The light-headed feeling whenever I got close to him. The ability to actually carry on a conversation with him in between panic attacks.

I’d always scoffed at Simone and the others when they’d claimed love at first sight or anything close to it. But now it seemed to be happening to me. I’d never reacted this way to a guy before—
any
guy. I sneaked a peek at Logan, who was bent over his own toothpick sculpture again.

What did it mean? Was I succumbing to teenage hormones at last? Or could there be something different about
this
guy?

Chapter
Five

W
hen the bell rang, Logan
and I walked out of the art room together. We paused in the hall outside as students hurried past in all directions.

I clutched my backpack to my chest. “Well, see you in bio, I guess,” I said.

“Yeah.” Logan shifted his books to his other arm and glanced around. I expected him to take off, but he just stood there.

“Um, do you know how to get to your next class?” I asked, mostly because I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Not really.” He pulled out his schedule. “It’s in the east wing, right? It says the teacher’s name is Ms. Wainwright.”

Gabi and Gwen emerged from the art room just in time to hear him. “You’ve got Wainwright for English next?” Gwen asked Logan. “Me too. I’ll take you there.”

“Thanks.” Logan smiled at her, then glanced at me. “Okay, bye, Bailey.”

He reached out and squeezed my shoulder gently. I froze, not sure what he was doing. Maybe he noticed my terrified look, because he instantly yanked his hand back as if it had been burned. Then he ducked his head, his gaze skittering away from mine.

“Yeah, so, see you,” he mumbled, turning to follow Gwen, who was already heading down the hall.

“Bye,” I said, even though he was probably already too far away to hear me in the crowded hall.

I watched as the shifting sea of humanity swallowed him up. My mind was spinning with crazy thoughts. I was a scientist—I couldn’t ignore the evidence anymore. Something unusual was going on here. Yes, I was a bumbling idiot around most guys. But not like
this
. Could I actually be falling for Logan? All the data seemed to support that theory. I’d seen it happen to my friends and others. But what did it mean, exactly? I was glad Simone was in my next class, because I
really
needed to talk to her. I was in way over my head here.

When I stepped into the girls’ locker room, the place was already in a full uproar of clanging lockers, talking, and laughter as the female half of the class changed into their gym clothes. I found Simone sitting on the bench in front of our lockers, pulling on her gym socks. Unfortunately, Zoe and a couple of her friends from the softball team were there too. So much for that heart-to-heart I’d hoped to fit in before class. For once I wished Simone wasn’t quite so friendly and lovable. It made it hard to get her alone.

Zoe was the first to spot me coming. “Hey, Bailey,” she said. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” I lied, forcing a smile.

Simone tossed her shoes into her locker, then glanced up at me. “Only one more class to go before I meet my doom,” she said with a sigh.

For a second I had no idea what she was talking about. Then I remembered—the bio test. Right.

“You’ll be fine,” I said, though my heart wasn’t in it. I had bigger things on my mind right then than Simone’s sloppy study habits.

“That’s what I keep telling her.” Zoe shrugged. “Anyway, we’re sick of hearing about it, Amrou. Time to talk about something else.” She sniffed the air. “Like who forgot to take their gym stuff home to wash last week? It reeks in here!”

I sat down on the bench and spun my combination lock as the other girls started playfully accusing one another of stinking up the place. After tossing my books into my locker, I got changed as quickly as I could. Then I just sat there, fiddling with the laces of my sneakers and hoping the others would leave so I could grab a moment with Simone.

No such luck. Simone finished pulling her hair back into a ponytail, slammed her locker shut, and bounced off the bench. “Let’s go!” she said. “I hope we’re playing dodgeball or something. I need some distraction.”

Zoe clapped me on the back. “Come on, B. You ready?”

“Coming.” Swallowing a sigh, I got up and followed Zoe and the others as they followed Simone.

When we emerged into the gym, most of the class was milling around near the locker-room doors. A few of the boys, including Matt and Darius, were kicking a ball around near the bleachers.

“Hey, Ms. Wren’s not here yet,” Simone said, glancing around the gym. “Quick—quiz me about DNA, Bails, okay?”

Zoe groaned. “Seriously? If you’re not ready for that stupid test now, you might as well give it up, Simone.”

Simone ignored her, gazing at me with those puppy-dog eyes of hers. “Bails? Pretty please?”

“Sure, okay,” I said, still not really thinking about biology. Maybe this was my chance to talk to her about Logan. “Let’s go over here where we can have some priv—”

The harsh, high-pitched tweet of a whistle shut me up. The gym teacher strode out of her office and surveyed us as we all turned to look at her.

Ms. Wren’s name suited her—she was small and birdlike in her movements, with piercing dark eyes. She taught a couple of remedial freshman math classes as well as gym, and also coached girls’ softball and boys’ track.

“Listen up, people!” she said. “I’ve got papers to grade today, so you’re doing independent exercise.”

“Whoo-hoo!” Matt shouted, pumping his fist in the air.

Ms. Wren fixed her sharp gaze on him. “That does
not
mean goofing off, Matthew. I expect you all to work up a sweat, understand? Hit the weight room, everyone—I’ll be watching.”

She shooed us toward the weight room adjoining the main part of the gym. Some rich old alumnus had donated a bunch of money a few years earlier, so the place was actually pretty well equipped. There were mats with our school logo on them, a row of free weights along one wall, and all kinds of other exercise machines. Not that I would know good gym equipment from bad, but Zoe claimed it was top of the line.

Once we got inside, Zoe wandered off to stretch or something with the other softball girls, leaving me alone with Simone at last. “Listen . . . ,” I began uncertainly.

Simone wasn’t paying attention. “Look, Matt and Darius are over by the free weights,” she said. “Let’s go make fun of their technique, okay?”

“Wait!” I grabbed her arm before she could rush off to join the boys. “Can we just do our own thing for a sec?” I waved at a machine nearby. “I need to talk to you.”

“Is it about the test?” Simone looked anxious. “Do you think I’m going to flunk?”

“No. It’s just—come on.” I dragged her toward the machine.

“Okay, spot me.” She sat down and adjusted the weights, then started doing leg lifts. “So what’s up, Bails?”

“It’s about, um, Logan.” I held my breath, hoping she wouldn’t shriek or squeal or anything. At least not too loudly.

“Logan?” She stopped the leg lifts and stared at me, a smile playing around the edges of her mouth. “What about him? I’m right, aren’t I? You finally decided you’re destined to be together and want me to be the first to know?”

“No. I mean maybe. I mean . . .” I took a deep breath. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, okay? That’s why I need to talk to you.”

She did another leg lift. “Tell me,” she said simply.

So I did. I filled her in on everything that had happened in art class, and the confusing thoughts and feelings that had resulted. She listened quietly, her legs steadily pumping up and down.

“. . . so then we walked out together, and we were saying good-bye out in the hall before he went to his next class, and things got a little awkward again,” I finished. “He kind of squeezed my arm, and then acted like he wished he hadn’t, and—”

“Wait—he
touched
you?” Her big brown eyes got even bigger. Dropping the weights, she sat up and spun on the machine’s vinyl seat so she was facing me. “Okay, that’s major!”

“No, wait, it wasn’t a big deal.” I immediately guessed by her reaction that I must have overstated what had happened. “I mean, it was just a quick shoulder squeeze. Like this.”

I demonstrated on her. She nodded.

“Okay, but it’s still him
touching
you. That’s key,” she said. “I mean, how often do random boys just touch you?”

I thought about that. Not counting adults (like my dad and uncle) or little kids, or random idiots crashing into me accidentally in the halls because they were horsing around, I couldn’t remember the last time a male of the species had made casual skin-to-skin contact. Or skin-to-shirt. Whatever.

Still, I wanted to be logical about this. Study the issue from every angle. Not jump to any conclusions.

“Okay,” I said. “But still, Logan has lived all over the world. Maybe he’s used to, like, touchier cultures or something.”

Simone rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Why can’t you get it through your thick head, Bails? Logan is totally into you! It’s obvious you’re both—”

“Shh!” I hushed her, noticing that Zoe, Matt, and Darius were coming toward us.

“Hey.” Darius flopped down on the rowing machine beside us. “Did I hear you guys talking about Logan?”

“No,” I said at the same time Simone said, “Yes.”

I shot her a dirty look. She didn’t notice, since she was tipping her head up so Matt could give her a quick kiss while Ms. Wren wasn’t looking.

“So what’re you doing talking about some other guy?” Matt asked Simone in his fake macho voice. “Don’t forget, you’re
my
woman.”

Simone rolled her eyes. “I don’t belong to you or anyone else,
man
,” she retorted with a smirk. “Anyway, it’s not me he’s interested in.” She slid her eyes in my direction.

“Really?” Zoe looked interested. “Bailey and Logan? Cute.”

“No, wait.” I didn’t want to start this. Not in front of everyone.

Matt leaned against an empty elliptical machine and studied me. “I talked some with Logan in homeroom,” he said. “He seems pretty cool.
Maybe
even cool enough to be worthy of going out with Bailey.”

“I agree.” Simone shot me a smug smile. “You guys need to help me convince her to give him a shot.”

Zoe reached over and punched me lightly on the arm. “Go for it, Myers. Logan’s hot.”

“Hold on, hold on—give the poor girl a break, matchmakers,” Darius put in with a laugh. “I mean, she just met the guy. And so what if he’s got the hots for her—doesn’t mean she has to like him back.”

“He doesn’t have the hots for me,” I blurted out. “I mean, I don’t think—I mean . . .” I was totally embarrassed and a little confused. It was becoming an all-too-familiar feeling lately.

“But how does she know if she likes him if she doesn’t give him a chance?” Simone argued. “I’m not saying she has to marry the guy or anything.”

“Yeah,” Matt agreed.

Zoe shrugged. “Hey, Bailey’s probably the smartest person I know—she can make up her own mind.” She grinned at me. “But for the record, I still say you should go for it.”

“Me too,” Simone said. “And I know Ling would vote with us if she were here. I was talking to her about Logan last period, and she’s already a big fan too.”

“Whatever.” I could feel that my face was bright red, and it definitely wasn’t from pumping iron. “Can we stop talking about this now, please?”

“But—” Simone began.

“Seriously!” I glared at her. “Enough.”

Simone shrugged. “Fine.”

Matt and Darius traded a look. “Uh, Wren’s giving us a dirty look. We should probably get back to it,” Darius said.

“Let’s hit the power cage next, bro,” Matt suggested.

The two guys headed off, with Zoe wandering along behind them. That left me alone with Simone again.

“Um, sorry?” she said, shooting me a sidelong look.

I gritted my teeth. “Does everything have to be a group discussion around here?”

“They just want you to be happy, like I do.” Simone got up so I could take her place on the weight machine. “That’s why I want you to give Logan a chance. I can tell this guy’s different.”

“You can?” I asked cautiously.

“I’ve never seen you react this way to anyone before.” Simone gazed at me earnestly as I sat down on the bench and slid my legs under the weight bar. “You’ve got to see if there’s something to this. I’ll do whatever I can to help—maybe you guys can double-date with Matt and me if that makes you feel better. Just tell me what you need.”

Ms. Wren walked by just then, giving me an excuse not to answer for a moment. I pumped my legs like a madwoman, turning over what Simone was saying in my head. Could she be right? Was it worth trying to find out whether those sparks were real? It was just so hard to believe that someone like me could ever have anything in common with a good-looking, effortlessly popular guy like Logan.