Yeah, I do. Lots of them. And one of them is that I don’t want to be her friend. “Are you still mad at me?” I blurt out.

Something in her body language relaxes. She glances over, sees my expression, and sighs quietly. “Argh. You’re like a little kid, you know that?”

I’m about to make a smart-ass comment about how I’m all man, but she keeps going before I can.

“You get this guilty little-boy look on your face when you know you’ve pissed someone off.”

“So you are still mad at me,” I say glumly.

She doesn’t answer.

“But you said we’d talk on Monday,” I remind her.

Hartley raises one dark eyebrow. “Are we not talking?”

“We are. But…” I’m unusually flustered. “I just—”

Before I can say another word, Felicity Worthington appears in front of my desk. Then, to my utter amazement, she bends down and kisses me right on the lips.

“Good morning, sweetie.”

I gape up at her. “What?” I say stupidly. Why’s this girl kissing me?

“Good morning,” Felicity repeats, then looks at Hartley. “Good morning. Hartley, right?”

Hartley looks as confused as I feel. “Morning,” she says absently.

“Miss Worthington,” the teacher calls from the front. “Is there a reason you’re in my classroom? Because according to my list, you’re not in this class. For that matter, neither are you, Mr. Royal.”

“Sure I am,” I call back, and she shuts up, because we both know I’m not leaving.

Felicity, meanwhile, beams at the older woman. “I know, Mrs. Ratcliff. I just popped in to say good morning to my boyfriend.”

A collective gasp comes from the females in the class.

“I’ll be on my way now!” Felicity gives me another quick peck on the lips and then leaves.

Okay. What the hell is going on?

“You and Felicity are together?!” Nora Hernandez is practically salivating as she twists around in the chair in front of me.

I’m half a second away from saying hell no when I notice the slight frown on Hartley’s lips. That makes me freeze. Is she jealous that I’m dating Felicity?

Wait. Jesus. I’m not dating Felicity. Even thinking it makes me want to hurl.

“Absolutely not,” I tell Nora, and hide a smile when I notice Hartley’s shoulders relax. The thought of me with Felicity did bother her. Ha.

During class, she pays attention only to the teacher, and afterwards she walks out without saying a word. I race after her, but I’m brought up short when a hand grabs my blazer.

It’s Felicity. “Let’s go to Basil’s tonight.” Her commanding tone rubs me wrong.

I stare at her. “Why?”

“Because it’s a good restaurant, and I want to go.”

I keep staring. “Felicity.”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“What do you think is going on right now?”

Confusion passes over her expression. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, why the fuck would I go out with you tonight, and why are you calling me your boyfriend—” I stop abruptly.

Memories from Saturday night crash into me like a tidal wave.

Me wandering along the sand, drunker than drunk can be. Felicity popping up in front of me and dragging me to her pool house. I was there for a while, and although I can’t remember every last detail of the conversation, I remember the important ones.

Like agreeing to a fake relationship so I could make Hartley jealous.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

“We made a deal,” Felicity says in a low voice, oblivious to my growing panic. “And I specifically made sure to kiss you when Hartley was looking.”

Christ. I need to stop drinking. I need to.

“Um.” I gulp. “Look. Felicity.”

Her blue eyes narrow.

“That deal…” Dammit, this is stupidly uncomfortable. I notice several kids eyeing us as I lead Felicity toward a row of lockers, away from the foot traffic in the hall. “I was drunk when I agreed to it.”

“No, really?” Sarcasm oozes from her tone.

“Like, really, really drunk. Blackout drunk,” I add, because it’s true. I woke up on Sunday morning with no recollection of even seeing Felicity, let alone saying I’d be her boyfriend. “So, uh, yeah…whatever I said I’d do…I’m gonna have to back out.”

She purses her lips, studying my contrite face. “No,” she finally answers.

My shoulders jerk up. “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean no. You’re not backing out.” She curls her fingers over my forearm and gazes at me with fire in her eyes. “We made a deal, and I’ve already told my girls to spread the word that we’re together. It’s too late.”

Anger creeps up my spine. “Then unspread the word,” I order. “Because we’re not together.”

“Yes, we are,” she argues like a five-year-old. Her fingernails dig into the sleeve of my shirt. “Don’t make me mad, Easton. You really don’t want to see me when I’m mad.”

Why? Does she Hulk out and punch through walls? I don’t get a chance to ask, because Felicity flounces off, leaving me staring after her in dismay.

* * *

Word spreads fast. Felicity and her “girls” waste no time telling everyone at Astor Park that we’re dating. Each time I try correcting some ignorant idiot who brings it up, they grin or slap me on the back and say, “Sure, Royal.” I don’t know what Felicity’s saying, but nobody believes me when I insist we’re not dating.

Luckily, the only people who matter are Ella, the twins, Val, and Hartley. The first four laugh it off when I join them for lunch. But Hartley? She disappears again. AWOL for all our afternoon classes. And I say our because I’ve given up on attending my own classes.

In fact, after the last bell, I pop into the office and make an official request to change my schedule. “I’ll pass this along to the headmaster,” Mr. Miller, my guidance counselor, tells me.

“Thanks.”

He smiles dryly. “And if Headmaster Beringer denies the request?”

I shrug. “I’ll keep going to these classes, anyway. None of the teachers care that I’m there.”

Mr. Miller shakes his head to himself as I head for the door. “This school,” he mutters under his breath.

Yeah. This school. It’s a screwed-up place where the students run the show and the teachers sit back and watch, completely powerless. Rich kids are assholes.

I text Hartley on my way outside. U missed afternoon classes. U get called in2 work?

To my surprise, she texts back immediately. Ya. Do me a favor?

I smile at the screen.

Of course I’ll have sex with u

There’s a brief delay.

Forget it

Crap. Sry! Told u, comes naturally. What do u need, Har-Har?

Brit lit notes, if you have any

Yup, took lots. I don’t even flinch when I type out that lie, but I remember the lecture and will have a complete set ready for her when she’s done. When u off work? I can come by ur place when ur done and drop em off

Would you mind dropping them here? That way I can do homework on my breaks

A little map pops up—she sent me her location. HUNGRY SPOON DINER, on E14th Street.

Ya no prob, I type, and feel immensely proud of myself for being such a good, helpful friend. I can b there in 1hr-ish. Gotta drop Pash home first

Thanks, E

Sweet. She called me “E.” Progress!

I tuck my phone in my pocket and cross the parking lot toward my pickup, where Pash is already waiting. I’ve been playing chauffeur because his car’s been in the shop for two weeks now—he totaled it racing on the twisty, scary-as-fuck road that follows the coastline. Lucky he didn’t go over the cliff, but I’m not one to judge. Pash has one vice: illegal street racing. I’ve got like a million of them.

“Yo,” he calls.

“Yo.” I unlock the truck doors and we slide into our respective seats. I toss my phone in the cup holder and start the engine.