Gabriel could feel his heart smacking his rib cage. He’d never thought about that house belonging to someone he knew.
Layne cleared her throat, and her voice came out small. “Is his sister okay?”
Taylor rolled her eyes and pushed her hair over one shoulder. “I’m sorry, were you a part of this conversation?”
“God, Taylor.” Gabriel kicked the leg of her chair. It was a miracle his voice wasn’t shaking. “Is his sister okay?”
“Jeez.” Taylor frowned. “Yeah . . . I think so—”
Ms. Anderson chose that moment to slide into the room. Taylor swung around and dropped into her chair.
Gabriel couldn’t think through the six questions on the board—not like it would matter. He scribbled random numbers, his mind spinning through the events of last night.
That dude is a hero.
He sure didn’t feel like it.
He’d gone there to be close to a fire. Not to save someone.
Thoughts gripped his mind so tightly that he couldn’t say a word to Layne—but she had her head down over her work, anyway.
He passed his paper forward with everyone else, and he didn’t even care what he got. The substitute was lecturing, but he didn’t hear a word. His ears were full of Hunter’s words from last night.
We could do this again. Think about it.
When the bell rang, Layne bolted from her seat without looking at him.
Gabriel bolted after her, intending to catch her in the hallway.
But Ms. Anderson’s voice stopped him before he got out of the room. “Mr. Merrick, I’d like to speak with you.”
Mr. Merrick. He hated when teachers called him that, like he was an old man stopping by to learn a few math tricks.
He stopped beside her desk and glanced at the door. “Yeah?”
“You didn’t turn in last night’s homework. Or the day before.”
He shrugged his backpack higher on his shoulder and looked at the door again. “I forgot it. I’ll bring it tomorrow.”
“And I was reviewing the quizzes from the other day.”
That got his attention. “I thought they didn’t count.”
She leaned back in the chair. “They don’t. I was concerned about how you answered the questions.”
Who gave a crap how he answered the questions? “So?”
“Some were right, and some were wrong. I’m having a hard time with the fact that nothing was wrong the same way.”
He could hear his own breathing. “I don’t understand.”
“I think you do.” She paused. “And in class the other day, when I called you to the board, you struggled with the formula.”
“Look, could we get to the point?”
She raised her eyebrows. “My point is that someone with an A average shouldn’t be struggling with anything at this point in the year.”
“Well, if I’ve got an A average, two homeworks shouldn’t matter too much.”
“Maybe not.” She leaned forward and looked up at him. In a creepy way, it reminded him of Taylor, though she was hot, and Ms. Anderson was . . . not. “Do I understand that you have a twin brother?”
God, it was hot in here. “Yeah?”
She gave him a level look. “He’s in AP Calculus, so he’s presumably taken this class before?”
Gabriel stared at her. He sure as hell wasn’t going to volunteer anything now.
“Look,” she said. “I’m not trying to hassle you. But you need a math credit to graduate. And you need to earn it yourself. If you need help, I’ll give it to you. But you can’t expect me to turn a blind eye to blatant cheating. You’ll need to work harder, apply yourself . . .”
He glanced at the door again. Layne was probably on to her next class by now, and he’d missed the first five minutes of lunch.
“. . . the coach will let you back on the team,” Ms. Anderson finished.
Gabriel snapped his head back around. “Wait.” He put a hand on the desk and leaned in. His backpack slid off his shoulder to hit the floor. “What did you just say?”
She didn’t flinch from his tone. “I said you have a week and a half to prove that you’re doing the work yourself. You can’t play sports if you can’t pass your classes. I’ll let you retake the last unit test that Monday, and if you can show that you’re putting the time in, I’ll speak to the basketball coach, and he’ll let you on the team.”
His fists clenched. “But that’s bull—”
The lights flickered, and his breath caught. The sub glanced up.
Gabriel swallowed his words. “Tryouts are tomorrow.” He kept his voice low, even. If he blew the lights again, Michael would flip out.
“And Coach Kanner agreed to hold a spot for you. If you can prove you’re doing the work.”
He wanted to punch something. He’d never wanted to hit a girl, much less a teacher, but right now—
“You don’t have to get an A,” she said evenly. “You just have to pass.”
He gritted his teeth and fought to keep his hands at his sides. “You can’t do that.”
“Actually, you’re right. I should follow procedure and report you to the principal. Then you could sit in his office, take an exam in front of him, and see how you do. Want to handle it that way?”
Fury had his chest in a vise grip. He ground the word out. “No.”
Her voice softened. “I’m trying to help you here. I can give you some extra time after class, if you’d like—”
“No, thanks.” He slung the backpack over his shoulder again and turned for the door. “I think you’ve done enough.”
After school, Gabriel stood on the free throw line in the empty gym and shot an easy basket. Twice.
He kept thinking of what Michael had said the other night, about being surrounded by people, yet not having any true friends. The first few weeks of the season were everything. Figuring out positions, how to work as a team. He’d probably miss the first game. The other guys wouldn’t want him walking onto the team late. He sure wouldn’t.
He’d already been to talk to the coach. He’d done that instead of going to lunch—what was he going to do, sit by himself? Pretty clear where Nick stood. But then the coach hadn’t been too encouraging.
And the one person who’d offered to help him—well, he’d done a pretty good job of chasing her off last night.
He was so fucked.
The halogen lights buzzed more loudly for an instant, and Gabriel closed his eyes. Breathe.
He wanted to pull the lighter out of his pocket, to spin the flame through his knuckles—but getting caught with a lighter could be an automatic suspension. Like he didn’t have enough problems.
Still. He felt like a junkie looking for a fix.
“You all right?”
Gabriel opened his eyes. Hunter stood there, almost directly beneath the basket.
“Dude. You’re starting to freak me out with this showing up out of nowhere.”
“You weren’t at lunch.”
Gabriel shrugged and threw at the basket. It bounced off the rim.
Hunter’s hand shot out to catch it, and he passed it back, lightning quick.
Gabriel raised an eyebrow and bounced the ball against the court. “You play?”
“Nah.” A shrug. But then he dropped his backpack against the wall and put his hands up. Gabriel tossed him the ball, and Hunter sank a basket from the line. “Team sports aren’t really my thing. You know.”
Hunter’s abilities drew other people to him—but just because they were drawn to him didn’t mean they were nice about it. Gabriel knew that from Becca.
He thought about what Hunter had said: You weren’t at lunch.