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I followed behind and neither of us questioned it when Bryce drove us to school in my mom’s Chrysler.

CHAPTER THREE

The fifth period bell must’ve just rang because we saw a bunch of students in the parking lot when Bryce turned off the engine.

Neither of us moved, but watched the crowd just outside the door.

It was warm and we had an extended break between fifth and sixth period. It wasn’t uncommon for nearly everyone to flock outside, either in the back or in the front of the building.

I couldn’t stand the tension, but I also knew I didn’t want to get out of the car with how things were between us.

Finally, I said weakly, “I don’t know what to do right now.”

Bryce bit off a bitter laugh and shook his head. “You don’t have to do anything.”

“What?”

“You’re always saying that. Get a clue, Sheldon,” he snapped and slammed the door behind him.

I sighed and watched as Bryce was greeted by Chad, Trenton, and so many others.

Get a clue? What did that mean? And why did I actually care?

I followed behind, feeling just…uncomfortable. I didn’t care that most of the students had knowing looks on their faces.

I didn’t want to stop and chat. It must’ve shown in my face because a path cleared for me so I was able to walk inside without any hassle. As I stopped in the girls’ locker room, I grabbed some deodorant from my locker. I had forgotten to apply some at the house.

There were three girls at the sinks and when I turned back, all three had their eyes on me.

“What?” I asked, tiredly. If I was Bryce, I just would’ve snapped at them. It took a lot to get me heated.

All of their eyes widened and turned away.

Thank goodness…for them.

I washed my hands and saw that one of the girls stayed behind.

She had jet-black hair that streamed to her waist. She was petite with a cute green tank top over a faded trendy miniskirt and black boots that stopped just underneath her knee.

“Hi?” I asked. What’d she want?

“You’re Sheldon Jeneve, right?” she asked and tamed a strand of hair that was out of place. She didn’t look nervous, just confident.

“Yeah. And you are…?”

“I’m Mena Cruiw. My brother is Denton Steele.”

Oh. I studied her again and saw a faint resemblance in the eyes, but that was about it. Oh, and the nose curled at the same spot.

“You have a different last name?” I asked the obvious question.

“I was adopted by my stepfather, but they’re having problems so they sent me out here to live with my biological dad.”

“You and Denton are half-siblings?”

“No,” she said shortly and leaned against a sink. “We’re full brother and sister, but he still loves our dad. Me, I’d rather not have anything to do with him. You know my stepmother and biological dad.”

This sounded complex. “Look,” I murmured. “I don’t really want to hear your family’s genogram.”

“That’s okay,” she said brightly. “I don’t really want to tell you my family’s genogram. We’re messed up, that’s the gist of it.”

“And why are you talking to me…?”

“Because you shagged my brother and didn’t give him the time of day afterwards.” She grinned and it lit up her face and eyes. Corrigan would’ve called her hot without the smile, but he would’ve considered her deadly with the smile. “I wanted to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said dully and dismissed her as I turned my back to leave. I expected her to say something, but she didn’t. When I got to my locker, I realized why— she’d followed me.

“What?” I grabbed my sixth period book.

“I thought maybe,” she shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe we could be friends?

You know who I am and you don’t care about my brother. I like that. And I heard around that you don’t have a lot of friends.”

“I don’t do friends.”

I cringed inside. Bad choice of words.

“This isn’t about popularity. Trust me.” She assured me and gestured to the hallway. I glanced around and saw a good portion of the guys were eyeing us, up and down. I’d grown immune to the attention, but I shouldn’t have been surprised they were watching her.

Mena waved them off and added, “I know who my brother is. I can be popular off his name. I can be popular on my own too. I was Homecoming Queen at my last school for the junior class. I went to the largest high school in Manhattan. I’d like to think that says something.”

“Becky Lew likes friends,” I mentioned. Becky Lew liked followers.

Mena parroted my thoughts as she snorted, “Becky Lew likes to be followed around and fanned. She wants errand girls, not friends. I was lucky to get a few good friends at my old school. I like you. I heard all about you from Denton and this morning around school. You don’t give a crap what people think of you. It works for you.” She stepped closer and said, “And you don’t play those childish games that all girls inevitably do. I’m tired of that life.”

I frowned and moved away from her. To be truthful, I didn’t know what to think of this girl. Luckily, Corrigan interrupted us as he stopped and asked, his back turned to Mena, “Do I need to know what happened between you two?”

Corrigan did that so efficiently. It was a perfected technique that effectively cut out anyone else.

For a moment, I thought he meant me and Mena, but then comprehension dawned and I whispered, “No. You don’t need to know because I don’t even know.”

He meant Bryce and myself.

“Bryce is furious. I’m asking.” He shifted closer to me. “Should I know what happened?”

“You want to know all the dirty secrets?” I teased. “You want the play by play?”

Corrigan took the hint and returned smoothly, “You taped it. Right? Tell me you taped it.”

Mena shifted farther to the side as Corrigan dropped to lean against the locker that she had been standing against.

She frowned at his back, but all of our attention was thwarted when Bryce stopped beside us.

He ran his eyes over Corrigan and myself before he drawled, “Principal wants to see us.”

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