Lessons in Love (Flirt) (9 page)

“Logan!” I blurted out, skidding to a stop just in time to avoid crashing into him. I swallowed hard as I saw Ling standing beside him. In fact, she was standing so close that her long hair was brushing his arm. “Um, hi, Ling,” I added. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just walking Logan to study hall.” Ling leaned even closer and grabbed his arm, tilting her head up and smiling at him. “We wouldn’t want him to get lost, right?”

“Definitely not,” I muttered, starting to move around them.

Logan reached out and stopped me. “That’s right, you’re in this study hall too, aren’t you?” he said brightly.

My arm tingled where he’d just touched it. Then I realized what he’d just said. Had he really forgotten we had this study hall together? Obviously the intersections in our schedule, few as they were, hadn’t made the same kind of impression on him as they had on me.

“That’s right,” I said, forcing a tight smile. “Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.”

“Cool.” Logan glanced at Ling. “Well, thanks for showing me the way. I should get in there. Hope I didn’t make you late for your next class.”

Ling checked her watch. “Yeah, guess I’d better get going. Later, Logan. See you, Bailey.”

“Bye,” I muttered.

“After you.” Logan swept an arm out to let me walk in first. I nodded, then ducked my head and hurried inside.

Simone and Taylor were in their usual seats near the back, huddled over a magazine. I headed toward them, expecting Logan to peel off and do his own thing. I was a little surprised when I realized he was following me.

Then again, why wouldn’t he? My friends and I were probably the only people he knew in this class. It was only natural he would cling to us until he got his bearings at his new school. Sort of like an animal trying to fit in with a new pack or herd.

Simone’s eyes brightened when she saw us coming. I glared at her, trying to head off any embarrassing comments.

“Hi, Logan!” Simone’s voice sounded as cheerful and fake as a bad actor in an infomercial. “I didn’t know you were in this study hall.”

Liar. I’d told her that during gym.

“Yeah.” Logan gestured toward several empty desks nearby. “So are there assigned seats here, or what?”

“Nope.” Taylor flipped another page in her magazine. “Gillespie doesn’t care what we do as long as we keep it down to a dull roar.”

“Cool.” Logan glanced at me. “Where do you usually sit, Bailey? I don’t want to steal your seat.”

I dropped my bag on my usual desk in front of Simone. “Right here?” It came out sounding more like a question than an answer.

“Okay.” Logan sat down at the desk next to mine. “Then I guess I’ll sit here. So the teacher doesn’t mind if we talk?”

“Not at all.” Simone glanced at Mr. Gillespie, who was at the front of the room chatting with several members of the JV baseball team, which he coached. “We could probably throw a party and he wouldn’t care.”

“Yeah.” Taylor was sitting behind Logan. She leaned forward. “So how’s your first day going?”

“Not too bad.” Logan shrugged. “Everyone here seems pretty cool so far.”

Taylor laughed. “That’s because you don’t know them that well yet,” she joked.

Simone leaned across the aisle and grabbed the magazine out of Taylor’s hands. “Hey, we’ve already looked at this one a zillion times,” she said, jumping to her feet. “Let’s go over and ask Maria if she has anything new we can borrow.”

“Hey! What?” Taylor complained. “I just bought that yester—
ow!
Quit it!”

Simone quickly pulled her hand back, leaving Taylor rubbing her arm where Simone had pinched it. “Come on.” Simone raised her eyebrows at Taylor. “Let’s
go
.”

“Whatever.” Looking confused, Taylor hauled herself out of her seat and allowed Simone to hustle her off across the room.

I winced, hoping Logan hadn’t caught any of that. Subtle was definitely not Simone’s middle name.

When I looked over, Logan was digging into the outside pocket of his backpack. He pulled out a pack of mints.

“Want one?” he asked, holding it out. “I don’t know about you, but I need a little sugar rush this time of day.”

“Thanks.” I took a mint, being careful not to let my fingers touch his. I didn’t need that embarrassing tingling to start up again.

He popped a mint, then tossed the pack back in his bag. I sucked on my mint, hoping the sharp spearmint might clear my mind. I couldn’t believe Simone was still trying to push me and Logan together after what had happened at lunch. Was she nuts?

Then again, why did I expect any different? I already knew Simone wasn’t exactly logical when it came to romance. Or anything else, for that matter.

However,
I
still retained the capacity for logical thought even if my best friend didn’t. And when I thought about it logically, I realized there might be a silver lining to Simone’s nuttiness. So what if she’d arranged things so I was stuck talking to Logan for a while? He was a nice guy, and even if that whole sparks thing was a nonstarter, there was no reason he and I couldn’t be friends. In fact, if he was going to end up going out with either Megan or Ling, it would be better if we had at least a cordial relationship, right? Plus, bonus: He was much easier to talk to than most guys. Chatting with him would be good practice for me so I didn’t end up completely tongue-tied if and when I
did
meet Mr. Right in college or whenever.

Before I could think of a way to launch a friendly conversation, Logan did it for me. “Ling tells me you and Simone have been friends for a long time,” he said.

“Our whole lives,” I said. “Our moms are friends, and they had us doing playdates together from the time we could sit up, if not before. Although based on their stories, it sounds like the playdates were mostly an excuse for them to get together and drink wine in the afternoon.”

Logan laughed. “Sounds sort of like my dad and his friends. Mom seems suspicious that most of their so-called work conferences take place in the vicinity of good pubs or famous golf courses.”

“You said your dad’s a paleontologist, right? That must be a really interesting job.”

“He loves it. Especially loves getting his hands dirty digging around for old bones or whatever.” Logan drummed his fingers on his desk. “I’m kind of glad he decided to write this book, though. Back when I was a little kid, before Mom decided to go back for her PhD, Dad used to have to travel a ton. It seemed like he was away on digs more than he was home. We had to move a lot just to stay in the same hemisphere as him.”

“Really?” I shook my head. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to move as much as you have. Like I told you, I’ve never lived anywhere but here.” I glanced around the room. I’d known most of the people there since kindergarten.

“I guess I’m just used to being a nomad.” He glanced around too. “Actually, it’s hard for me to imagine that this might be it for a while—that I might be at this school all the way through graduation.” He bit his lip. “It weirds me out a little bit, to be honest.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond for a moment. His blue eyes had taken on a faraway expression, and his lips were tilted in a little half frown. Suddenly this didn’t feel so much like a casual, friendly conversation anymore. . . .

“Um, graduation’s only a little over two years away,” I said. “That’s not very long.”

“I guess. Although Mom’s already talking about me going to the university here too—I’d get free tuition since she’s on the faculty.” He rolled his eyes. “Luckily, Dad already told me I can go anywhere I want.”

“Where do you want to go?” I asked.

He lifted one shoulder. “Haven’t thought about it that much. Maybe I’ll go back abroad—it might be fun to study in Europe. Or maybe South America. I’ve never lived there, but we all went to Peru once when Dad had a conference in Trujillo.”

I shook my head, amazed by how casually he talked about stuff like that. “Wow. I never really thought about going to college in another country. I’m worried enough about how I’m going to handle living in another
state
!”

“You’ll do fine.” Logan smiled. “You’ll fit right in at MIT.”

“
If
I get in,” I said quickly. “And
if
I can figure out a way to pay for it. My family does okay, but they’re not going to be able to pay that kind of tuition by selling a few more of Great-Aunt Ellen’s chocolate-chip cookies.”

He shrugged. “You can get loans, right?”

“Maybe for part of it.” I stared across the room at Mr. Gillespie, who was kicking a half-deflated soccer ball around with a couple of the baseball guys. But I wasn’t really seeing them. No, I was looking at my future. My sad, pathetic future stuck working forever at Eats if I didn’t get the scholarships I needed. “But I can’t afford to run up too much debt in undergrad,” I told Logan. “Not with med school coming up right afterward.”

“Med school? You want to be a doctor?”

“Medical researcher,” I said. “I want to study genetics. Or maybe cellular biology or something along those lines. I haven’t quite decided yet, but I figure I can try a few different things in college and narrow it down by the time I get through med school.”

“Wow.” He looked impressed. “You’ve really put a lot of thought into this.”

“I know, everyone thinks I’m a freak.” I shot a look at Simone and Taylor, who were still hanging out near the front of the room. “Most of my friends haven’t even started thinking about college yet.”

“You’re not a freak for thinking ahead.” He leaned across the aisle, gazing at me intently. “It’s cool that you know what you want. Most people our age don’t.”

Okay, that definitely wasn’t the usual response I got when I started spouting off about college plans. Simone usually just sighed and rolled her eyes. The other girls mostly ignored me and changed the subject. And the one time I’d mentioned watching an Internet video of a college-level genetics class, Matt and Darius had looked at me as if I was some weirdo from the planet Intellecto, and Matt had nicknamed me Professor for a day or two until he forgot about it.

But here was Logan, looking at me as if this was a perfectly normal—even admirable—topic for a high school sophomore to discuss. That was different.
He
was different.

Uh-oh. All of a sudden that sparky, fluttery feeling was back again, stronger than ever.

“Anyway, enough about me.” I forced a laugh, ready to steer things back to more comfortable ground. “How’s your new house? Are you all moved in?”

“Pretty much.” He brightened. “And hey, that reminds me—there’s at least one good thing about being stuck in one place for a while.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ve always wanted a dog, but we moved around way too much before.” He grinned like a little kid. “Now that we’re here, Mom and Dad said I can finally get one!”

“That’s cool. What kind of dog are you going to get?”

“I’m not sure yet. Do you have any pets?” he asked. “I could use some advice.”

“We just have a cat right now,” I said. “Our old dog died last year. He was a beagle.”

“That’s one of the breeds on my list,” Logan said. “Along with retrievers and a few others. But I’ll probably just end up going to the pound and picking out a lovable mutt.”

“Sounds good.” I could totally picture him with a dog. Then I thought of something. “But wait, what if you do end up going to college abroad? Will you be able to take the dog with you?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. If not, it could stay here with my parents. I think Dad’s almost as excited about the dog thing as I am.”

“That’s cool.” I smiled, but I was feeling kind of confused. One minute Logan was talking about getting settled in and living here forever. The next it seemed like he already had one foot on the plane back to Europe or wherever.

Not that there was anything wrong with that. I had no intention of getting stuck in this town forever myself. But it reminded me that high school wouldn’t last forever, even if it felt that way sometimes. The two-plus years we had left were practically nothing, especially if you looked at time in geologic terms. After graduation we were all likely to go off in different directions. So even if Ling and Megan weren’t in the picture, what was the point in getting involved with a guy now?

And of course Ling and Megan
were
in the picture. They were both used to getting what they wanted, and they weren’t going to back off just because I had some kind of wishy-washy flutter in my gut over this particular guy.

So that was two pretty big strikes against even considering being more than friends with Logan. The logical part of my mind said not to bother.

So why did I keep feeling those sparks?

Chapter
Nine

C
ollege Avenue Eats was almost
deserted when I arrived after school. Two older ladies were chatting over coffee and pastries, and a harried-looking college student was typing away madly on her laptop, a half-eaten bowl of soup cooling beside her. My uncle was over by the counter spritzing glass cleaner on the display cases, while my mother was pulling several dozen snickerdoodles off a tray and putting them into a basket in the bakery case.