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clear across the country to get a job. Probably as big a loser as his son. Celia once claimed that loser DNA ran in families, and she offered Bailey, Greg, and Russell as proof. Willa had laughed like she always did when the girls said stuff like that, but she’d still felt a twinge of guilt. Bailey wasn’t what you’d call a friend, but she’d always been nice to Willa—and to Celia and Britney, too, for that matter—and she didn’t think Russell and Greg had ever done anything to offend them. But she never reminded them of that, just smiled or chuckled, whateverthe moment called for. Her friends had always been quick to pick up on people’s flaws, and their comments had entertained Willa for years.
    Lately, though, their remarks had seemed darker somehow, more cutting than comical, and a couple of times in the past few months Willa had wondered what they said about
her
when she wasn’t around. But both times she’d brushed that thought aside, embarrassed by her disloyalty. Celia and Britney were her best friends.
    Willa looked down at the notes she’d written about the new guy and felt a little sheepish about the assumptions she’d made concerning his family. But he’d been so irritating, frustrating her at every turn. Which was why, once she’d finished recording the little information he’d shared, she hadn’t waited for him to ask her questions and began telling him things about herself. He’d just sat there, though, writing down almost nothing, so she’d begun talking about the trip she and her family had taken to Italy just to fill up the time. But his bored expression never changed.
    Clapping roused her from her reverie, and she watched as Bailey and Raven sat down. “Who’d like to go next?” asked Richardson.
    Willa had no desire to prolong the agony. “We will,” she offered, getting up and walking to the front of the room. She was conscious that hers were the only footsteps she heard, and she turned to see Keegan still in his seat. Embarrassed, she waited along with everyone else as he slowly swung his long legs into the aisle, got up, and came to the front.
    “Which of you is going first?” asked Richardson.
    Willa opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say a word, Keegan began.
    “This is Willa Jaffrey.”
    Willa turned, surprised by his sudden eagerness to share. And interested to hear what he had to say.
    “I guess most of you here know all about her,” Keegan continued. “For those of you who don’t, what you see is pretty much what you get.”

CHAPTER 9
    C
hrist!
If Griff read one more posting about how cool Sonia Martinez’s new car was (if you could even
call
a Nissan Micra a car), he didn’t think he’d be able to keep from putting his fist through his laptop’s display. Why Sonia was Talia’s friend in the first place was beyond him. For one thing, Talia was a hell of a lot smarter—Griff had hacked their school records and found Sonia could barely maintain a C average while Talia consistently pulled off As. For another, their attitudes about guys were worlds apart—Sonia was forever riding the Loser Town Express while Talia still hadn’t started dating again. There was something about her loyalty to a person she hadn’t seen in months that touched a chord in Griff. If only his mother had had some of that loyalty, perhaps things might have turned out differently for her. For both of them.
    Griff looked once more at the selfie Sonia had posted that morning of her standing in front of her car, which looked more like a snot-bubble than a vehicle, then closed his laptop in disgust. If he spent another mind-numbing moment on Facebook he might lose the will to live, so he opted to head over to Garfield Park to clear his head. Of course, that meant getting the evil eye from his super on his way out of the building. Griff was pretty sure thepint-sized prick didn’t like him, hadn’t liked him from the day he’d moved in. At first he thought it was because he