Chapter 1 #3
“New. Which you are, right?” It was a dumb question, but sometimes playing it dumb was a good way to pump a guy up more. Some of them liked to feel smarter. “I’d have noticed a guy as handsome as you walking down the Brentwood halls last year.”
His slight grin turned boyish, and he couldn’t meet my eyes. So freaking adorable. “Wow. That was… straightforward.”
“Beating around the bush wastes time,” I told him, readjusting my grip on his arm as we walked down the hall. I dodged everyone’s eye contact, keeping my focus solely on him. “And I’m not a time waster.”
The boy gave a warm chuckle. “Good to know.”
I not-so-discreetly peered up at him, noticing the way his golden hair curled over his ear, where his loose shirt collar brushed his tanned skin.
Even his side profile was beautiful, with his pointed nose and sharp jawline.
As we walked down the hall, a few students stopped and watched, and I lifted my chin higher, fighting a broad smile.
Yes, you’re getting the first glimpse, I thought to them. Madison Oliphant and…
“What did you say your name was?” I asked him.
“Logan,” he replied.
“Logan. I like it.” Magan. Lodison. Hmm… we’ll work on the ship name.
He cleared his throat a little. “And you said your name was… Madison?”
I hadn’t said, but Jade had. Still, I nodded. “Madison Oliphant.”
Gosh, his eyes were so blue. “Madison Oliphant, that’s… pretty. It suits you.”
“You can leave the flirting to me.” I patted his arm, grinning. “I’m far better at it.”
He laughed—an easy, genuine sound that made my stomach flutter. “Guess I’d better step up my game.” Logan readjusted his arm to bring me closer into his side. “I’ll catch you off guard eventually.”
Eventually. Was I totally overthinking, or was he planning ahead, too? Eek!
“This is the gymnasium,” I said, pointed at the open doors. “You play any sports?”
Logan nodded. “Football.”
No way. The gods of Brentwood High were seriously looking down on me. “Did you attend Brentwood tryouts over the summer? I can’t remember if any of my friends mentioned a newcomer.”
“No, I didn’t go to their tryouts,” Logan said with a small sigh. “Missed the deadline. Wasn’t meant to be.”
“There’s always basketball. Do you play?”
“I think the better question would be ‘do I play well?’”
I laughed again; he easily drew it out of me. His teasing made me feel so light on the inside; I was seriously about to start levitating. Then again, I’d never experienced this before—mindless, fun flirting, especially with a guy as drop-dead gorgeous as he was.
“The office is just down this way.” Sort of. We were just taking the long way around. “So, where’d you transfer from?”
Logan hesitated, and I looked up to watch his eyes dart back and forth at the hallway in front of him. The stretch of silence drew on, and my thoughts took a turn. Oh no. What if he said—
“Haven High,” came his answer at last.
I actually let out a breath of relief. “Oh, good. I was afraid you were going to say Jefferson.”
“Brentwood’s biggest rival, right?” Logan asked, a glint sparking in his blue eyes. “Would you have dumped me on the spot?”
Jefferson High—Brentwood High’s biggest rival. Enemies, really. If Logan had been transferring from there, then my budding dreams of being the next campus couple would’ve shattered, because even transfers were treated as outcasts. “Without a second thought.”
Logan mock-wiped his brow. “Dodged a bullet, then.”
Truly. Haven High, well… it wouldn’t make any headlines. “You made a good choice. And I lucked out from it, hmm?”
We finally ended up in front of the high school’s office, but I didn’t pull away from Logan.
Not yet. A part of me wanted to walk him in to meet Mom, who was the school principal, and maybe even bribe her to get him in my homeroom.
But the last thing I needed was Mom going full awkward on my future boyfriend.
“This is the school map.” I let go of Logan’s arm to give him free range of motion. I gestured to the poster shielded by a pane of glass on the wall. “You should take a picture of it. It’ll help you get around when I’m not here—which hopefully isn’t too often.”
Logan took his phone out of his back pocket, and I caught a glimpse of his lockscreen—something red and black. I didn’t know if it was because I had Jefferson on the mind, but ugh. Those were the school’s ugly Bulldog colors. Maybe I could get him to change it.
Before Logan had time to take the picture, I pinched the top of his phone and slid it from his grip. I took two quick steps back, holding it hostage. “Hey,” he said, laughing lightly but not reaching for it. “Is a phone inspection part of the tour?”
“I’m not looking through your messages or anything,” I assured him, opening the Phone app and biting down on the corner of my lip. “I’m giving you my number to call me. And call, don’t text. That’s how I’ll know you’re serious.”
I could feel his lovely little blue eyes on me, and basked in the moment of it. “Serious?”
I just smiled. “Serious.” I’d let him draw his own conclusions.
As I typed my number in, a faint tickle brushed the top of my cheekbone, near the corner of my eye. I froze, breath catching as my gaze lifted slowly to find Logan’s hand stretched out.
His thumb traced gently along my skin, and with that path, goosebumps lit across my body like wildfire.
Warmth spread through me at the tender, sudden touch, and it shouldn’t have been as jarring as falling into his arms moments ago had been, but somehow it was.
The pad of his thumb stirred something unfamiliar awake inside me.
Butterflies. Real, actual butterflies. I must have felt them before, surely, but this? This felt like the very first time.
“You had an eyelash,” Logan murmured, eyes bouncing back and forth between mine. He held his thumb closer to my parted lips. “Make a wish.”
I blinked once. Then twice. But the world still hung from its axis, tipping and trembling like I was balancing on top of a cheer pyramid, teetering on the edge and about to topple.
When I didn’t move, Logan pulled his thumb back. He closed his eyes, and after a second of hesitation, he blew my eyelash off his fingertip. “Don’t worry,” he said softly, blinking his eyes open. “I made sure the wish was a good one.”
Air seemed to stall in my lungs.
That.
That was so corny.
And so freaking adorable.
My brain couldn’t compute anything beyond that. Corny and adorable.
I mutely handed his phone back to him, and as he reached for it, our fingertips brushed. There was something so deep about his eyes. No shallow hollowness. No empty adoration or selfish interest—the kind I’d gotten used to from three years in the same bubble. This wasn’t that.
I wanted to get lost in those eyes. I wanted to feel that flutter in my stomach again.
I wanted him to touch me again.
And for some reason, it felt like the first time I truly wanted anything.
A slow smile began stretching across Logan’s lips, small, as if he didn’t realize he was doing it. “Told you I’d catch you off guard.”
A surprised laugh burst from me, and at the sound, Logan’s lips bloomed into a full grin, like that was the exact reaction he’d hoped for. I found it hard to look away—I didn’t want to. But there was an art to it all, flirting. And as an artist, I had to know when to put down the paintbrush.
“Call,” I reminded him, surprised I could keep my voice steady. I held my palm to my ear like a phone, taking a step back, and then another. “Don’t text. Okay?”
“If I’m serious,” he began, something lighting through his expression, “I’ll call you.”
My steps were steady as I turned and walked away—normal—but my heart felt anything but.
I readjusted my cheer top, pulling it down over my midriff, trying to feign unaffectedness.
Just before I’d reach the corner, I would glanced back.
One last peek. One. If Logan was still there—still looking—that had to mean something. Right?
And if he wasn’t… well, then it didn’t matter. I’d already made up my mind.
In my back pocket, my phone began to vibrate. I fished it out, knowing it was probably Jade wondering where I was. Instead, a phone number I didn’t recognize greeted me. I answered the call. “Hello?”
“Hi,” a voice returned, one I could hear both from the phone and behind me.
I turned to find Logan holding his phone to his ear, lips spread into a hesitant, almost shy smile.
Something quivered in my chest—something warm and traitorous and way too eager.
No amount of lip-biting could stop the grin pulling at my mouth.
It just broke free, like it’d been waiting for an excuse.
Logan tilted his head forward, a lock of golden hair falling into his perfect eyes. “What are you doing tomorrow?”