She didn’t turn her head. “Forget it.”

What had he said? He wished he could pull the car over, but they were in the middle of three lanes of traffic on Ritchie Highway. He didn’t even know how to play this. “I don’t . . . what’s—”

“I don’t know why you have to be so mean all the time,” she said, turning her head just far enough that he could see there were definitely tears on her cheeks. “Do you have any idea what it feels like, the way you treat people?”

“What the hell did I say?” he demanded.

She sniffed. “Obviously.”

Jesus, this was so infuriating. “Obviously what?”

“You said obviously. Obviously I’m not Heather Castelline. Well, you know what? Not everyone is a hot blond cheerleader, Gabriel Merrick. I’m sure in your world, every girl should have a perfect rack and great legs and flaunt them for your benefit, but we aren’t all such paragons of perfection.”

Wow.

Gabriel stared out the windshield at the traffic. The ridges in the steering wheel were biting into his palms. “I guess you told me.”

This was worse than fighting with Michael. At least he could haul off and hit his brother and tell him he was being an asshole.

But Layne was still crying silently, staring out the window, her shoulders shaking almost imperceptibly.

When he came to a red light, he looked over. “Hey.”

She didn’t look. “I said, forget it.”

“I know what you said. Look at me.”

“If I look at you, Simon will know I’m crying.”

The light turned, and he had to look back at the road anyway.

He spoke into the silence, hearing his voice come out rough. “When I said ‘obviously,’ it was because Heather Castelline is a total bitch who’ll only give you the time of day if she needs something from you. Nicky went out with her once, and he spent two days swearing he’d rather cut his balls off than date a girl like her again.”

Layne didn’t say anything.

“She’s the last person who’d criticize me for getting into it with some sophomore tool in the hallway, and she’d be more likely to copy my quiz than to fix the wrong answers. She sure as hell wouldn’t stay after school because her brother was having a good time.”

Layne didn’t speak, but he could swear she was looking at him now.

Gabriel kept his eyes on the road. “It had nothing to do with what you look like.”

She swallowed. “Okay. Whatever.”

“Besides, you could totally have a perfect rack and great legs. I just can’t tell. If you want to flaunt them so I can make final judgment—”

She punched him in the arm.

But now she was smiling.

And blushing.

He had to stop for the next light, and he looked over. Dampness still clung to her cheeks, but she didn’t look like she was plotting to kill him.

When he made the turn into her development, she said, “I can still help you with math.” She paused, her tone nonchalant. “If you want.”