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at the bush—should she just take off running?—and stopped, embarrassed by the furious thumping of her heart. A cute little squirrel hopped hesitantly from under the branches. It sniffed the air, then dashed across the path and up a tree behind the police tape.
    “Honestly, Bonnie McCul ough, you’re a moron,” Bonnie muttered to herself. A guy passing her in the other direction overheard her and snickered, making Bonnie blush furiously.
    By the time she got to the bookstore, she’d gotten her blushing under control. Having the typical redhead’s complexion was a pain—everything she felt was broadcast by the flush or paleness of her skin. With any luck, though, she’d be able to handle a simple trip to buy books without humiliating herself.
    Bonnie had started getting acquainted with the bookstore when she’d had her shopping spree yesterday, but she hadn’t real y investigated the book side of the store.
    Today, though, she had the book list for the classes she’d registered for, and she needed to stock up for some serious studying. She’d never been a huge fan of school, but maybe col ege would be different. With a resolute squaring of her shoulders, she turned determinedly away from the shiny stuff and toward the textbooks.

    The book lists were awful y long, though. She found the fat Intro to Psychology textbook with a sense of satisfaction: this would definitely give her the terminology to diagnose her friends. The freshman English seminar she was assigned to covered a slew of novels, so she wandered through the fiction section, pul ing The Red and the Black, Oliver Twist, and The Age of Innocence off the shelves as she passed.
    She rounded a corner in search of the rest of the Ws, intent on adding To the Lighthouse to her growing stack of books, and froze.
    Zander. Beautiful, beautiful Zander was draped graceful y next to a bookshelf, his white-blond head bent over a book. He hadn’t seen her yet, so Bonnie immediately ducked back into the previous aisle.
    She leaned against the wal , breathing hard. She could feel her cheeks heating up again, that awful tel tale blush.
    Careful y, she peeked back around the corner. He hadn’t noticed her; he was stil reading intently. He was wearing a gray T-shirt today, and his soft-looking hair curled a bit at the nape of his neck. His face looked sort of sad with those gorgeous blue eyes hidden beneath his long lashes and no sign of that fabulous smile. There were dark shadows under his eyes.
    Bonnie’s first instinct was to sneak away. She could wait and find the Virginia Woolf book tomorrow; it wasn’t like she was going to read it today. She real y didn’t want Zander to think she was stalking him. It would be better if he saw her somewhere, when she wasn’t paying attention. If he approached her, she’d know he was interested.
    After al , maybe he wasn’t interested in Bonnie. He’d been kind of flirtatious when he’d run into her, but he’d nearly knocked her down. What if he was just being friendly? What if he didn’t even remember Bonnie?
    Nope, better to take off this time and wait til she was better prepared. She wasn’t even wearing eyeliner, for heaven’s sake. Making up her mind, Bonnie turned firmly away.
    But, on the other hand…
    Bonnie hesitated. There’d been a connection between them, hadn’t there? She’d felt something when her eyes met his. And he’d smiled at her like he was real y seeing her, past the fluff and fluster.
    And what about the resolution she’d made the day before, walking to her dorm from this very same bookstore? If she was going to become a terrific, confident, stepping-out-of-the-shadows kind of person, she couldn’t run away every time she saw a boy she liked.
    Bonnie had always admired the way that Elena managed to get what she wanted. Elena just went after it and nothing got in her way. When Stefan had first come to Fel ’s Church, he hadn’t wanted anything to do with Elena, certainly not to fal into