Adorkable(32)

“Becks,” Ash said back. To me, he said, “I’ll see you around, Spitz.”

“Bye,” I said.

Becks rounded on me as soon as Ash turned the corner. “So, what’s the deal with you and Ass Striker?”

“What?” I said, taken aback. The nickname wasn’t a surprise. Becks had made that one up years ago, practically the instant he met Ash. What surprised me was his tone. Becks never sounded that serious about anything—except maybe soccer.

He must’ve realized it because his next words were teasing. “It’s the second time I’ve caught you with him,” he said. “You two-timing me, Sal? Got another F.B.F. on the side?”

“Becks,” I warned.

“And why’s he always giving you the hairy eyeball? If the guy looked at me like that, I’d kick his ass.”

I smiled. “If Ash looked at you like that, he’d be gay.”

“Whatever,” Becks said, but he looked tense. “Just please tell me it’s not him. It isn’t, right?”

“What’s not him?”

“Your crush.”

“My what?”

Becks took a deep breath. It looked like he was counting to ten. “The guy you want to make jealous.”

Oh, I thought. That. I really needed to start keeping track of all my lies.

“No,” I replied, “it’s not him.”

“You’re sure?” he said, squinting. “Because as much as I want to help you, Sal, I’m not too keen on the idea of you being Mrs. Ass Striker.”

“Why not?” I asked as we stopped at Ms. Vega’s classroom.

“I’m just not,” he said, handing me my books. “He’s not right for you, Sal.”

“Oh really? And who is?”

My breath quickened as he brought a hand to my cheek, bending down to place a kiss in the same spot he had before, the skin below my left ear. The shiver came just as it had the first time.

“I don’t know,” he answered quietly. “But Lillian’s watching, so we’d better make this look good.”

Without turning, I knew that he was right. I could feel her eyes on my back as we stood there in the doorway.

I gave in to the impulse and placed a gentle kiss on Becks’s jaw. It was the only thing I could reach since he’d stood back up, and besides, I’d wanted to do it since the moment I saw him. He stiffened at the contact.

“Thanks,” I said, “I owe you one.”

Becks slowly shook his head. “No, you don’t. We had a deal remember?”

“That we do.”

Looking over my shoulder, I caught Hooker’s eye. I waved, and she gave a nod before turning to face front, her lips curved as Becks and I said our goodbyes. She looked awfully pleased about something. I wondered if she could read lips or if she had a superpower I didn’t know about, like super-sonic hearing. As I walked into class and buried my head in German translations, I had the strangest feeling—like I should be worried, more worried than I already was. The flash I’d seen in those eyes meant trouble.

The first attack came half-way through the period.

“Sally, they need you in the office.”

At the sound of Ms. Vega’s voice, I looked up and saw Holden Wasserman, one of only two other members of the German Club besides myself, standing at the front of the room, staring at me expectantly. I’d been concentrating so hard, trying to ignore Hooker’s expression; I hadn’t even heard anyone come in.

“Okay,” I said.

Holden held the door as I followed him out. Just as it swung shut, I glanced back, catching sight of Hooker’s smirk. The entire way I couldn’t shake the feeling I was walking into a trap.

“So, what’s this about?” I asked as we reached the office.

“Your brother’s on line one,” he said and stepped up to the counter, gesturing to the office phone. “He says it’s urgent.”

“Brother?” I didn’t have a brother. Holding up my hands, I said, “I think there’s been a mistake.”

“He specifically asked for you, says it’s a family emergency.” Holden held the receiver out to me. “Sure hope it’s not your dad. That’d be tragic for everyone.”

Considering the phone call was either a prank or meant for someone else, I wasn’t too worried about dear old Dad. Perfect, I thought, a case of mistaken identity. I just hoped this guy, whoever he was, found his real sister soon.

Taking the cordless, I said, “Hello?”

“Hey,” a male voice answered, “is this Sally Spitz?”

I frowned. If he was looking for his sister, how’d he get my name? “Yes, it is. But I think you’ve got the wrong person.”