“Thanks,” I say, looking away from him. Everyone in the classroom is watching us, but they turn their heads when they catch my eye. “I’ll try to think of a place by the end of the day.”

Emmitt opens his mouth as if to say more, but I swivel on my heel and head inside the classroom. As soon as I do, people start quietly whispering to one another.

I glance briefly over my shoulder, and Emmitt’s dark brows are knitted together as he looks around the classroom. I move before he can ask me anything, quickly taking my seat and ducking my head.

“I told you so,” Rosie singsongs, poking me. I smack her arm away and try not to groan.

This is just great. Only I would accidentally start a rumor about myself.

As I leave my last class of the day, English, I see Emmitt waiting for me once again, leaning against my locker this time.

He raises his eyebrows at me, and a sense of dread crawls down my spine before he even speaks. “I keep hearing people whisper our names. What’s going on, love?”

“I don’t know,” I say curtly, moving past him to spin my locker’s dial—32, 15—but then his fingers press against mine, halting my motions.

“Don’t you?” he asks, taking a step closer so my shoulder is brushing his chest. “Your cheeks are awfully red.”

“It’s hot,” I say without pause, spinning the dial again.

Emmitt huffs a laugh, close enough that his breath is cool against my face. “You are horrible at lying.”

I elbow him as I open my locker, and he lets out a grunt of surprise. “You are a nuisance.”

He lifts his hands into the air in a sign of surrender, watching me pack away my things. “Whatever you say.” When I lift my arm to elbow him again, he easily sidesteps it. “Have you thought of a place yet?”

I sigh, shutting my locker. “Yes, I did.”

He inclines his head. “Which borough are we off to today?”

“Brooklyn,” I say, shifting past him, ignoring the feeling of his body’s warmth pressing against my side. “It’s going to be a long ride, so I hope you have time to spare.”

Emmitt shrugs, hooking his fingers into the strap of my backpack and following after me. “It’s not as if I have anything else to do.”

I give him a flat look. “Shouldn’t you have like...actor things to do? Surely they didn’t send you here just to attend school?”

“They kind of did,” Emmitt says, his fingers slipping underneath the straps, cool through the fabric of my sweater. “I honestly have no idea how anything at this school works. What’s a Regents exam?”

“A New York state exam,” I say, shaking my head. “Don’t worry, I doubt they’ll put that in your script.”