Within minutes my focus is gone. Jasmine isn’t in this class, and she wasn’t in my first period history class either. What’s she taking? Is she in AP Calc, like Kiki? Is she in the other calculus section with Shan and Gia? She wasn’t in lab with me and she’s not with me now and she won’t be in my Spanish class because she’s fluent in French.

Who. The fuck. Cares. I am not Jasmine Killary’s keeper. I’m not even Jasmine Killary’s friend. If I were, I’d have known she was coming here. I’d know why custody changed hands and when she arrived, and we’d have driven to school together the same way we went everywhere together this summer.

Instead, all I know is we haven’t spoken since I left the Outer Banks, and maybe it’s best we keep it that way.

I fix my gaze on the back of Chase’s head, remembering how flirty he was this morning. That is where my mind should be.

A note falls on my desk a couple of minutes later, crumpled and ink-smudged. “You should reconsider Friday night,” it says. “I could use a personal cheerleader.”

I stare at the handwriting I wish I didn’t know so well, considering it’s the first note Chase has ever sent me that wasn’t asking for homework. What does it even mean? Does he remember that I used to be a cheerleader, standing on the sidelines in a tiny top and even tinier skirt? Or does he think I’m so into him I’ll cheer him on no matter what? Or is it just him flirting?

Ugh, I might’ve liked it better when he treated me like his little sister. Romantic intrigue isn’t my forte; why would it be when my heart’s been in the same unrequited place forever? Not that I haven’t dated or made out with guys or anything—and this summer was something else entirely—but it was all fun and games, flirting and having company alongside Gia and Tommy and Shannon and “Pick of the Month.” Chase was always real, too real, but also not real at all.

I debate not writing back, but who am I kidding? “I’ll think about it.”

Even with my eyes on the board, I can see his smug smile in perfect detail after he unfolds my note.

I don’t hate it.

As predicted, I don’t have a single class with Jasmine that morning, and there’s no spotting her at lunch, since Shannon promptly sweeps me, Gia, and Kiki into her car to take advantage of our first day of senior privileges by eating off campus. I do get to hear plenty about her, though, since everyone else has seen her, and they have lots and lots of opinions.