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It shouldn’t have felt like some major achievement or ego boost when I caught him looking at me once. So he wasn’t totally oblivious. It almost made me smile outright. I loved that I knew how he initially felt about me at Barton Springs. He had been fascinated by me, not Liv. And not fascinated like I was a spectacle, but actually attracted to me. I’d never felt that before. I had hoped Angus was attracted to me, but even if he or any of the boys in our group had felt that way, they were too hard to read.

Every English class, John would saunter in with just his binder, and he always sat with his same two friends. They were soccer players; I knew this because one of them wouldn’t stop talking about being a soccer player. The other always wore cowboy boots.

“Ford! Next weekend,” one of them said. “I heard there’s a party at Robertson’s. Are you allowed to go out, or are you grounded?” He laughed mockingly, a total shit-talker.

Unfortunately I’d been early to class that day, not knowing if it was easier to slip in with less attention that way or to come later. But John and his friends were five minutes early too. They usually walked in from the parking lot together just as the bell rang. I felt off-balance, since it was just the four of us in the classroom.

“Shut up” was all John said, though not unpleasantly. It was awkward; the boys sat at desks too close to me even though the entire classroom was empty. I’d seen John pause when he first saw me and then reluctantly follow his friends to their chairs. Now he was doing his best to ignore everyone, looking at his new iPhone intently.

As I studied John’s two friends, I was happy to feel something close to the revulsion I was supposed to. After a week of being at the school, I was now comfortable enough to look up and observe the dynamics. These were the male athletes who were at the top of the food chain. In the parking lot they were magnets for everyone—the cool kids, the high-functioning stoners, other athletes of both sexes. I saw John with them, but he always seemed to keep himself a bit apart.

“Dude, when you were gone last year, Robertson had a party”—inside-joke laughter—“and Hannah took our friend here to the bathroom, and they—”

“Tom!” John interrupted sharply and looked over at me as in, Not in front of her. I’d looked up at his sharp tone and our eyes met involuntarily. Again, that electricity. Those placid, hard-to-read eyes looked away quickly, his resolve to ignore me back in place.

“What? Jesus, Ford. God knows what they do for fun. I’m sure all this is nothing to her.” Was Tom really talking about me as if I weren’t right there? Then he was cocky enough to do the thing no one had done yet—address me directly. He made a dramatic show of slowly turning in his seat to face me. It was easy for me to channel Victoria after all these years and look at him with complete lack of interest. Besides our obvious differences, there was something I didn’t like about this guy.

“Sorry. It’s rude to talk about parties in front of people without inviting them. Do you want to come to a party with us this weekend?” He looked at me with pretend ease, giving out his fake invitation.

I couldn’t figure out if he thought he was being daring by talking to me or if he was disrespecting me. “No, thank you,” I said, hoping my cold attitude would put him in his place and he’d turn back around. I felt John look up from his phone and watch our exchange.

“So, what’s your deal?” I have to admit I was taken aback when Tom continued.

“Excuse me?”

“Why are you at this school?” Tom was trying not to smile, so now I knew he was holding back nervous laughter. Knowing this made me relax and so, Angus-like, I toyed with him.

“I scared people at my old school.” I crossed my legs, stretched my arms over my head, and yawned. I kept my gaze direct and dead.

“How?” chimed in the other boy, Hudson, but I continued to look only at Tom.

“Because I knew about bad things they’d done.” I’d said it just to sound scary so they would leave me alone, but I saw real paranoia in Tom’s eyes, and he backed off and turned around. He had something to hide.

Hudson reluctantly turned around too, as people began walking into the classroom. My gaze slid back to John’s.

Just then a girl with luxurious glossy black hair dashed into the room. Her clothes were casual and messy, but she had some style. She looked around for a second, and her eyes landed on the boys and then me. The bell was about to ring, and she wasn’t in our class. As she beelined in our direction, John sat up straighter in his seat and held out his hand like he was going to touch her when she reached us. When she squeezed between the desks, John put his arm around her waist, but she looked past him and, with wide eyes, quickly passed a phone to Tom. Because her tank top hung long and loose, you could see the sides of her black bra.

“Megan said you left it in her car. I’ve got to go.” She turned from Tom and squeezed John’s hand while she untangled his arm from her waist, and I saw she wouldn’t meet his eyes. Hudson looked over at Tom with ill-concealed worry. John missed it all as he watched her walk out. John’s girlfriend.

Immediately John was back to wearing his normal impassive, prove-it-to-me expression. Because he always seemed so detached, I was pretty floored by his affectionate gesture.

My impression of him shifted. What was he like with her? What was he like when he let down his guard? I should have known right then that it was competitiveness that led to my fascination with him. That, and my desire for him to discover his girlfriend was cheating on him with his friend.