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one,” Asher said casually as he gestured for me to go ahead.
    “Your new school?”
    “Yep. Looks like you’re stuck with me for a while. But don’t worry, I’ll try not to start any more fights.”
    “You’d better not,” I told him lightly, trying to hide my shock. “I can’t be associated with a known troublemaker.”
    Asher’s face broke out into a wide, wicked grin. “That’s a shame, because my cousin would tell you that troublemaking is something I was born to do,” he said. His eyes flickered between mischief and seriousness.
    “Your cousin?”
    “The guy I was fighting. But I’d advise you not to believe anything he tells you.”
    Something about his sudden, intense gaze made my cheeks burn. Quickly I walked on ahead through the school’s big front doors, and Asher jogged a few steps to catch up.
    “Ah . . .” he began, fumbling with a sheet of paper in his back pocket. “Maybe you can help me find my homeroom. Where is room two-eighteen, exactly?”
    I smiled in spite of myself. “This way, come on.”
    As we walked down the hall and up the stairs, I got that same prickly, being-watched feeling as before. The girls all stared at Asher—and glared at me. The bell was going to ring any second, and most people had already filtered out of the halls to their classrooms. But the stragglers turned as we passed, parting for us like the Red Sea. Their whispers followed us down the hall. I slid my eyes sideways as we walked in relative silence. I had to admit, it wasn’t just his eyes that were alluring; it was as if all of him radiated this magnetized power, drawing people in toward him.
    “It’s just up here,” I said, snapping myself out of it.
    When we reached the open door to the room, I waved my hand like a magician unveiling something that had been hidden. “Here you go.”
    “After you,” he said.
    I blinked at him, my heart pounding suddenly. I hadn’t told him that I was in this class, too.
    “What’s wrong, Skye?”
    He could have just assumed , a small voice whispered inside my head.
    The sharp sound of metal against metal made me look around.
    The blond guy from the party—Devin—was standing by a locker on the far side of the hallway.
    And he was staring at me.
    His face was expressionless, but the temperature in the hallway seemed to plummet.
    He hefted his backpack onto one shoulder and approached. I wanted to head into the room, but I was rooted to the spot. He stopped in front of me.
    “I’m sorry about ruining your party Saturday night.”
    His voice was quiet, calm, shy. But also seemed sincere. I hadn’t been this close to him yet, and now I could see that his eyes were a tranquil blue. Peaceful. It was something I’d longed for since my parents had died—a place with no troubles.
    When I glanced back at Asher, I could sense the animosity rolling off him in waves. I looked back and forth between them, unsure of what was going on. Standing there, I felt closed in—trapped—like I had Saturday night during the fight.
    “You should both talk to Dr. Schneider,” I said. “The guidance counselor. I hear she’s great with conflict resolution.”
    The bell rang.
    “Thanks, guys. Now I’m late to class.”
    “First time for everything,” Asher said.
    How had he known?

Chapter 5

    I hesitated at the door. Ms. Manning was already pacing the front of the classroom, going through the day’s announcements.
    I heard something drop in the row of seats by the window where Cassie and I had been sitting since the beginning of the school year. She was already seated there, bending over to pick up her calculator from the floor. She turned her head, and I could just see her eyebrow rise through the messy red-blond wisps of hair that had fallen in her face. She shot a pointed look at the two guys standing near me, winked, righted herself, and began to scribble in the notebook in front of her.
    “Skye?”
    Ms. Manning was standing in front of her desk, staring at me as if