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Mrs. Drez is already passing out instructions for a partnered assignment by the time he makes his way to our table and sets his backpack down. Grant picks up the paper to examine it before I can.

“Bathymetric charts, huh?” he says.

I nod silently. Smooth, Syd.

Mrs. Drez clears her throat. Like that will even do the slightest bit of good.

“Your
partner will be the person sitting next to you.” I glance over and Grant nods at me.
Grand.
“You’ll need to work together outside of school to get all of this done. It’s due next Wednesday. Have at it.”

“Looks like we’re partners,” Grant says. I have to admit, I’m really glad that he seems to be way too nice to make any jokes about my nosedive yesterday.

“Yep. Can I see that?” Not having my paws on the instructions has me twitchy. I motion for the instruction sheet and he passes the page to me.

I quickly skim the directions and then glance back up at him. Same freakishly white, toothy smile. Same goose bumps covering my arms. Damn.

“This says that we have to meet outside of school—”

“I’m free anytime. How about you?” he says.

“Actually, I’m fairly busy,” I say. It comes out all wrong and he doesn’t give me a chance to finish.

“Oh, okay. Well, I can just do the project if that’d be easier for you,” Grant says. He shifts his body away from me slightly and it surprises me how much I don’t like that.

“No, that’s not what I meant. I just have a lot going on. I can’t do right after school or anything, but I can meet up in the evenings if that’s okay with you.”

He smiles warmly
at me. “Yep, evenings are fine. H
ow about tonight?”

All right, Mr. Eager.

I think for a minute about what I may have going on. Just one thing. As usual.

“Tonight works. I have gym until six, then I’m free,” I tell him.

“Gym?”

“Yeah,” I catch myself twirling my hair around my finger like a total dimwit. “I do gymnastics.”

“No kidding. Not at the place out on Parker Lane, huh?” he asks.

“Yep, Sam’s Gymnastics Academy. Since I was three.” I can’t tell if that sounds impressive or really lame.

“That’s right around the corner from my house. I noticed it on my way to school. You could just come over to my place if you’d like, since you’ll be right there already,” he offers.

That was logical. And makes the whole, “going to a strange guys house after dark” thing a little less weird since it’s in a familiar area.

“That’s great. I’ll be by about six-thirty.”

Grant scribbles something onto a piece of paper and slides it toward me. I glance down at his address and phone number.

“See you tonight then,” he says. The confidence in his voice matches
his smile, and
I inappropriately swoon a little bit inside.

The lunch room is noisy and crowded as always. Even more so today because a camera guy from the
show is
here filming some test shots, so even the kids that don’t typically eat on campus are here, wanting their chance to be on TV. I set my lunch down across from one of my best friends, Tessa
,
and try to ignore the camera in the corner of the room.

“Syd! I’ve been waiting to talk to you all day! Are we going dress shopping tonight, or what?” Tessa is beaming. I hate that I’m about to let her down.

“What? Did you finally ask him?” I ask. Tess had been struggling for weeks about whether or not she should ask Oliver to prom. 

“Yes! So, tonight?” Tessa’s voice
i
s pleading.

Quinn is the next to show up, plopping down next to Tess.

“Shopping yes, but not tonight,” I say.

Tessa’s mouth puckers downward into an exaggerated frown.

I laugh, just as Trevor appears. He
kisses the top of my head and then straddles the bench seat, wraps his arms around my waist
,
and pulls me in closer to him. I love how close he always wants me.

“Sorry, Tess, I’ve got an Oceanography project I have to work on tonight. I’m all yours tomorrow, though,” I explain.

“Oceanography? On a Frid
ay night? Isn’t that supposed to
be, like, a cake class? Aquarium field trips and tide pools and all that?” Quinn
asks
while peering inside her lunch bag.

“Yeah, that’d be nice. We’re making bathymetric charts,” I say.

“Bath-a-
who?” Quinn asks, pulling out
several small Tupperware from her bag. No doubt she has whipped up some amazing culinary creation that will put my usual, plain boiled chicken breast to shame.

“It’s a map of the ocean floor,” I say with a laugh.

“You need help, baby? I still have most of my projects from when I took that class last year,” Trevor offers.

“No thanks. You know I’m not a cheater,” I joke. “Besides, it’s a partnered project, it shouldn’t be too much work,” I say.

“Depends on who your partner is,” Tessa pipes in. She, like me, usually ends up doing the majority of the work in any paired assignment. It’s just easier that way, to ensure that things get done right and on time. I look up from my lunch and realize that everyone at the table is waiting on my answer.

“It’s Grant Evans,” I answer as nonchalantly as possible.

Quinn snorts.

    I’d
assumed no one would know who I was talking about. Clearly
I’d
underestimated Quinn’s hottie radar.

“Grant Evans, the new guy Grant Evans?” Quinn asks with a squeak.

“Yep. That’s him,” I mutter.

“Oh holy hell, he’s
gorgeous!”
she blurts out. “Let me know if you want me to take your place in Oceanography, Syd. Seriously. Sex-on-a-stick that one is. You can go to
my Bio Two class. Take a crack at raising my grade.” Quinn is laughing hysterically, and
I’m
sort of wish
ing
it was possible to stab someone with your eyes.

Trevor’s eyes are on me, I can feel them. Like
his
tightening grasp on my hand, they have that kind of weight behind them.

“Gorgeous, huh?” he says. His tone is light, almost sarcastic. Clearly he isn’t worried, right?

I fumble through my backpack
—
looking for…nothing.

“Yeah, I didn’t actually notice that, but thanks for the offer, Quinn.” I work to make my voice even and casual.

“I love that you’re partners
,
” Quinn continues to giggle through her words. “Isn’t that, like, how you and Trevor hooked up?” I shake my head at her with a pleading glance for her to shut up. We’ve been best friends for years, but right now, I’d love to pretend that I don’t know her.

Trevor narrows his eyes Quinn’s direction.
There’s
a mutual dislike between them that I can’t get to the bottom of. It’s hard when your best friend and your boyfriend don’t like each other. There isn’t ever a light banter with the three of us
;
it’s always work. No double dates. No looking out for each other.

“So, anyway, are we not talking about the fact that there is a dude filming you over there, Syd?” Quinn asks. I can see how those reality stars tune the cameras out, it has only been a couple of days of them following me and I’ve already almost stopped noticing.

“We were trying not to,” I say. “And he’s not filming
me
, he’s just testing
the lighting and stuff in here.”

Trevor pushes his tray away as if he has suddenly lost his appetite.

“Sorry,” Quinn mouths. She doesn’t really look all that sorry.

“I thought you said that you turned them down?” Trevor says through tight lips.

“No, I said that they’d probably turn
me
down,” I say.
“We’ve been over this, Trevor.”

“Whatever,” Trevor mumbles.
I don’t really understand how pretending we hadn’t already had it out about this topic is helpful.

“Anyway, shopping tomorrow gals?” Tessa, the saint
,
says, changing the subject.

She pulls a stack of glossy magazines from her tote and slams them onto the table.

“That’s my cue to leave!” Trevor smiles and kisses me quickly before heading to the other side of the table to sit with his friends.

“Thank you,” I mouth to Tess.

I rush through my workout after school. Sam can tell that I’m just not
focused,
and ask
s
me several times if
I’m
okay. I
tell
him that I
am
, of course. I’m not sure what
is
bothering me, or why I
feel
so uneasy. If
it’s
that I still hadn’t talked to my dad about prom, or Grant invading my thoughts, or worrying
that things with Trevor and I would go downhill because of the documentary
.
It’s
all just a little too much.

I hadn’t planned on doing anything after school when I’d left this morning, so I didn’t pack any extra clothes or my toiletry bag to freshen up before I head over to Grant’s house. I
throw
on some sweat pants and an oversized sweatshirt over my leotard, and tr
y
my best to smooth out my ponytail. After about five minutes of only succe
eding
in creating
more lumps, I
give
up. Who am I trying to impress after all?

Sam had given me some general directions to Grant’s
street.
Driving down the road, I couldn’t help but gawk to myself at the enormity of the homes. I knew the houses in this area were big, but this road
i
s unbelievable. The homes
are
larger and larger the further down the street I
go
. I ha
ve
to strain my eyes in the darkness to see the addresses on the dimly lit street. The road curve
s
slightly as I slow just in time to see a mailbox at the end of a shell
-
covered road with 4429 printed on it. This is it. It d
oesn’t
even look like there could be a house there.  I turn cautiously down the dark driveway, imagining all sorts of ridiculous things along the lines of a Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
I’m
seriously considering turning back around. I don’t know Grant from Adam, and really, it’s just plain creepy back here. Just as my imagination has very nearly gotten the best of me, the road widens and reveals a sprawling, two-story brick estate home, surrounded by massive oak trees. Several lights are on in the house, making it look warm and inviting, despite its overwhelming size.  The sense of dread in my stomach vanishe
s
, but the nerves over seeing my lab partner are still there.