Chapter 6
Sunday morning is off to a lively start with our families cramming around the breakfast table. Forks scrape against plates and syrup bottles make their rounds.
I’m careful to avoid Theo’s gaze, which isn’t easy with him sitting right across from me, flashing that easygoing smirk whenever our eyes accidentally meet. I get flustered every time and distract myself by arranging my scrambled eggs into neat little piles.
“So, how’s school going, kids?” dad asks, taking a sip of his coffee. “Settling into the routine yet?”
My fork pauses halfway to my mouth. “It’s fine—homework, tests, trying not to fall asleep during history.”
Mom passes the toast my way as I savor my first bite of her delicious eggs. “Any new friends, honey?”
“It’s junior year. Everyone’s circle of friends is pretty much established.”
“What about you, Theo? Fitting in okay?” my dad asks, his expression genuinely interested.
Theo nods, swallowing a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “Yeah, football practice is intense but good. The guys are cool.” He takes a gulp of orange juice, then adds, “Though the cafeteria’s been interesting. Last week, there was this whole thing with spilled milk where—"
My leg shoots out under the table, and I deliver a swift kick to his shin. Theo winces mid-sentence, his eyes widening in surprise.
"Where the, uh, lunch special was actually edible for once," he finishes lamely, rubbing his leg.
I flash him a sharp look, and his facial expression lets me know he gets it.
Our parents don’t need to worry, and I have my own way of handling bullies—pretend I’m not bothered until they give up. It’s worked since elementary school. Mostly.
“The cafeteria food isn’t half bad,” I jump in, redirecting. “Nothing like home cooking, though.” Mom smiles at the compliment.
Theo, however, is trouble in a whole new way, tossing a casual glance my way as he chats with my dad about football season—he looks way too comfortable in my house. He’s the one person in the world who could throw me into the worst bind possible if Paige gets even a whiff of our living situation.
After breakfast, I spend the rest of the day shopping with Stephanie, who’s relentless about Theo. She can’t stop grinning and nudging my shoulder every chance she gets.
“Just saying, girl,” she says, laughing at my flushed cheeks, “if I were you, I’d jump on that chance. He’s hand-delivered to you.”
“Yeah, no,” I say as we exit the mall. “Paige and her gang would have my head like the Lannisters had Ned Stark’s.”
Stephanie laughs, linking her arm through mine as we dodge a group of preteens hogging the walkway. “Your Game of Thrones references are getting out of hand.”
“I’m serious, Steph, you know how she can get.” Nausea threatens to bring up the Caesar salad I had for lunch just thinking about Page’s potential cruelty, the way she can destroy someone’s social life with a single act.
“And I’m serious too.” She stops walking and turns to face me, shopping bags swinging against her legs. “Have you seen the way he looks at you? That boy’s got it bad.”
“Got what?”
“His eye set on you.”
I snort, but my heart does this annoying little flutter. “He looks at me like I’m the inconvenient roommate who monopolizes the bathroom.”
“Please. I saw how he kept glancing at you during lunch on Friday.” She pokes my ribs playfully. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you checking him out when he was reaching for his water bottle.”
“I was looking at the clock behind him.”
“Mm-hmm.” Stephanie’s smile stretches wider. “The clock that doesn’t exist?”
“He’s off limits. Paige would—“
“I’m not afraid of her,” Stephanie says with a dismissive wave of her hand. “What’s she gonna do?”
I fiddle with the strap of my purse, remembering the way she cornered that freshman girl last year for simply talking to her ex. “She’s Paige Buchanan. She could make me a social outcast for the rest of the year and beyond.”
“You’re overthinking this.” She shakes her head, dark curls bouncing. “So what if she finds out that the hottest guy in school is crashing at your place?”
“It’s the one thing that can never, and I mean never ever happen.” We place our bags in the trunk of Stephanie’s car. “The last thing I need is more drama.”
“The real drama is watching you pretend you’re not into him.” She slams the trunk shut, and we get inside. “You have this little crinkle right here—“ she taps between my eyebrows”—when you’re trying not to smile at something he says.”
I swat her hand away. “That’s my irritation crinkle. Totally different.”
“Sure it is.” She leans against the seat, keys dangling from her finger. “You forget I’ve known you since third grade. I clocked your crush on Justin Timberlake with the same expression.”
“That was different. Justin wasn’t living down the hall from me, using all the hot water and leaving the toilet seat up.” Though Theo doesn’t actually do that. He’s quite considerate about bathroom etiquette.
“So you admit there’s something there?” Her eyes light up with triumph.
I groan and avoid her inquisitive gaze. “The only thing there is my anxiety about keeping this whole arrangement on the downlow. If Paige finds out he’s living with us, she’ll twist it into something it’s not.”
“Maybe.” Stephanie starts the car. “Or maybe you’re more worried about what happens if you admit you’re attracted to him.”
I snatch the seatbelt and wrench it across my chest, my fingers fumbling over the buckle before finally securing it with a decisive click.
The truth is, I don’t know which terrifies me more: Paige finding out, or the way my heart behaves whenever Theo’s in the room.
It’s like a drumroll starts in my chest—totally beyond my control.
What if one day I can’t hide it? Justin Timberlake never made me question my sanity like this.