He squeezes, and then he’s gone.

My hands fall to my window, and I pull in quick breaths, a low chuckle escaping me as my chin falls to my chest.

My god, I’m a mess, and clearly, easily enticed.

I lock my car, glancing around to find other students shuffling from their cars toward the school.

Only then does my mouth fall open as I spin around, searching for my coffee, but I don’t find it.

Oh, hell no!

I stomp my ass to the main building, into the corridor, and cut the corner leading to senior row, where all the senior lockers are located.

I wave at a few people as I pass them, spinning to answer Keri Morgan’s question about a quiz we have in English today, but I keep moving forward.

Scott and his teammates are grouped together in conversation, and I manage to slip by them without having to pause to engage.

I spot the three pariahs near the end, stuffing their backpacks inside their lockers without so much as pulling a single book out.

I sneak in quickly, snagging the paper coffee cup from Ransom’s hand as he did mine.

I step out, spinning around as he’s whipping around to face the thief, but the mischievous gleam in his eyes tells me he knew exactly who it was. And that he was waiting.

Taking backward steps, I bring it to my lips and raise a brow.

Ransom chuckles, falling against the locker, a discreet little smirk curving his lips.

Yeah, he knew I’d come for it.

He’s playful. I don’t know if I anticipated that...

I swallow beyond the small tizzy in my throat.

My back meets the double doors, and I push through, my eyes bouncing to the right before I step away.

Amy stands beside Dax and Scott, her gaze locked on the boys in black, and the second Scott and the others see her staring down the hall, they turn to see what has her attention.

I laugh to myself and head for class.

The next few weeks are full of the same little amusement.

Ransom snags my coffee and runs or replaces it with one he brought for me instead; they sneak up on me in the halls for quick scares and he’s never not watching me from wherever he is. This past weekend, they snuck into my garage and filled my car with softball-size balloons. I had to lie and say they were for a school project when I opened my trunk in front of Anthony on Sunday to grab a jacket when he waited for me to arrive, just to tell me he had to cancel, and a half dozen of them flew into the air before I could get the damn thing closed.

Yesterday, they moved my car across the parking lot, parking it directly beside Arsen’s. So far today, they’ve stayed out of sight.