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nice here, and I’m sick of you avoiding me!”
    Her dark eyes search for mine. She seems genuinely hurt, but I’ve known a lot of great liars. Before I can think, one word escapes my lips: “Why?”
    She tilts her head. “Huh?”
    “Why are you being nice to me? Are you working for someone? Or do you want in with our syndicate? Either way, I’m not interested. Sorry.” I turn to walk away, but she gets in my face.
    “Are you freaking kidding me?” She’s too close to me, so close I can smell her mint gum. “You didn’t even consider that maybe I thought you needed a friend—that maybe
I
need a friend?”
    My throat tightens, and I don’t dare speak for fear I might sound more upset than I’d like.
    She shakes her head. “You think you’re the only person on the planet who gets shit for their abilities? Have you been paying attention to how people treat Brady? Haven’t you noticed that all the open seats in class are around us? Why do you think that is?”
    I hate admitting I’ve been more focused on how everyone treats me.
    “We get it, too, Fiona. Maybe not like you, but people hate us, expect us to be bad, treat us like we’re with Juan Torres when we’re
not
.” She looks me up and down, her lip curled. “I thought you’d be different. I thought you were more than a judgmental rich girl, but you’re just like everyone else.”
    She steps back, waits for me to say something. I have nothing to say. She’s right, and the truth of it hurts. She thought we’d have stuff in common. Maybe we actually do. That might have been my only chance to have a real friend, and I blew it.
    She rolls her eyes. “Whatever. I get it. Have a nice life.”
    I watch her round the corner, already regretting not trusting her. But it’s over now. She obviously doesn’t want to be my friend anymore, so I head to the library. Emailing Miles is my first priority. Hiding from Graham is all that matters right now.
    There are so many people waiting for computers that the librarian gives me a ten-minute limit. I barely have enough time to log in and type up an email to HotMulletMan1. I tell him I’ll try to get another phone and call him if I’m in trouble. Then I get kicked off.
    I can’t go to the house. SuperMart is the only place in town that sells phones, but it’s too far to walk in the Arizona afternoon inferno. I don’t have anywhere to go. Except …
    My chest tightens at the thought of going to tutoring. Bea’s words come flooding back:
You’re just like everyone else.
Well, that’s a first. As much as I don’t want to go, maybe Bea will give me another chance if I do. Besides, if I’m not going back to Dad, then I’ll need any friends I can find.
    I square my shoulders and head for the math room. But when I get to the door, a sudden wave of panic rushes in. What if Bea ignores me? I don’t exactly want to spend the next hour doing more schoolwork, even if it could help take my mind off Graham. Maybe I should brave the trek to SuperMart and try to find a phone instead.
    No. I can’t let her think I’m that horrible, that judgmental. It’s only one tutoring session. If she ignores me, then I won’t come again. Taking a deep breath, I open the door and step into the cool room.
    I’m surprised how many people are here, but relieved to find Bea smiling. Only now do I notice how not a single person sits next to her, as if she’s cursed. I’m such a jerk. I wave, the gold bangle around my wrist the only indication I moved at all. She pats the desk next to her, but before I head over I notice a guy coming from the front.
    He must be the tutor, though I’m surprised he’s not as old or geeky as I imagined a tutor to be. He’s tall and thin, with strawberry-blond hair and a light dusting of freckles to match. His ears stick out, but he’s actually pretty cute. Cute enough that I end up smiling a little as I wait for him.
    Then his crystal-blue eyes meet mine directly, and I gasp.
    A smirk crosses his