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they always tasted like ChapStick.
    Now that she thought about it, her own lips were actually pretty chapped. Maybe she should just walk right up to the front of the classroom and kiss Nick. Of course, the more practical thing to do would’ve been to just borrow his ChapStick and use it herself, but at this moment all she wanted to do was stand up and go plant a wet, slippery kiss on his ChapSticky lips.
    Emma was really glad that no one could get inside her head. More than half of her thoughts were incredibly embarrassing, even though she was the only one who knew about them. Emma exhaled, trying to clear her mind. She ran her fingers through her straight black hair, pushing it into place behind her ears. As features went, Emma liked her ears. They were symmetrical and round and not too big. In fact, Emma really liked the way she looked in general. She felt like it all just kind of worked. She had olive skin and deep, dark brown eyes that slanted ever so slightly, commonlyprompting people to ask her where she was from. “Born and raised in Southern California” was her first answer, but when people grew more persistent and/or rude, she’d go on to explain that her dad was Irish American and her mom was Japanese American, which made her one-fourth Asian and three-fourths Cauc asian , which also has the word “asian” in it and always made Emma crack a smile. Not because she thought it was funny, but because it was a strange quirk of words and spelling.
    It was weird, just like Emma.
    â€œEm, can you do me a favor?” Nick asked from across the room. Everyone else had already begun working on their assignments. “Can you show the newbie how to use the page layout software?” Emma nodded, glad to have something productive to do. She walked over to the bank of computers where Savannah, “the newbie” girl, was sitting.
    Savannah was petite, rocking a pixie cut and thick glasses. Emma couldn’t help but notice that her thin lips were a light, bright, grapefruit shade of pink. Emma had the feeling that their lips might be the exact same color, but she wouldn’t be entirely sure until the next time she looked in a mirror.
    Emma slid down into the empty chair next to Savannah and immediately got a weird sensation of déjà vu. Her forehead crinkled.
    â€œEverything chill up there?” Savannah asked, gesturing toward her head.
    â€œOh yeah . . . sorry . . . just having too many thoughts all at once.”
    â€œTell me about it,”Savannah said, seemingly unfazed.
    Emma knew that was a common expression, but something about Savannah’s tone made it sound like she might actually want to hear a real answer, so Emma responded honestly, opening the door to her weirdness ever so slightly.
    â€œI’m having déjà vu all of a sudden,” she said.
    â€œ Tell me about it ,” Savannah said again, with newly added emphasis.
    Emma thought she just had.
    â€œSorry . . . ,” Savannah added quickly. “You said ‘déjà vu,’ and apparently I thought that meant it was okay for me to act like a total weirdo . . .” Emma was glad she wasn’t the only person in the room who was capable of such weirdness. “Okay, anyway ,” Savannah said. “I’m Savannah.”
    â€œHi. Emma.”
    â€œHi.”

166 days until graduation . . .
    LAYLA couldn’t stop smiling.
    â€œUh-oh,” Zoe said warily as Layla joined the rest of The Crew at their usual lunch table in the middle of campus. “The last time your face looked like that, you convinced everyone at this table that we should all have sex together.”
    â€œBut not together together,” Emma teased.
    â€œDon’t worry. This is still that same face,” Layla said, still just excited as she’d been on Sunday. It had been about sixty-five hours since the girls agreed to the sex pact, and Layla