Jase and beer and FIFA ’13 were going to have to wait.

“You’re late.” She was still hiding behind her hair. “I really am sorry.”

Picking up her last notebook, I shoved it into the bag and stood. I handed it back to her, willing her to look up. I don’t know why, call me a mama’s boy, but I liked my girls smiling and not appearing like they were on the verge of tears. “It’s okay. I’m used to having girls throw themselves at me.” Her chin lifted up just the slightest, and my grin spread. “Trying to jump on my back is new, though. Kind of liked it.”

Her head jerked up and all that hair slid back. “I wasn’t trying to jump on your back or throw myself at you.”

“You weren’t?” My phone vibrated in my pocket. I ignored it. “Well, that’s a shame. If so, it would have made this the best first day of class in history.”

She studied me as she clutched her bag to her chest, and my gaze dropped to the piece of paper I held. “Avery Morgansten?”

“How do you know my name?” she snapped.

What a touchy little thing. “It’s on your schedule.”

“Oh.” She tucked her hair back and a slight tremor rocked her hand as she took the schedule.

When I was little, my mom said I had a soft spot for the underdog. Wounded pigeons. Three-legged dogs. Skinny pigs. My sister was the same way. We had a sixth sense when it came to rooting them out, and I may not have known jack about this chick, but she was obviously new to this school, obviously uncomfortable, obviously having a shitty start to her day, and I felt bad for her.

“My name is Cameron Hamilton,” I told her. “But everyone calls me Cam.”

Her lips moved like she was repeating my name, and I sort of liked how that looked. “Thank you again, Cam.”

Bending down, I picked up my bag and slung it over my shoulder. Knocking my hair out of my face, I smiled the kind of smile that usually got me what I wanted. “Well, let’s make our grand entrance.”

I’d made it to the door to astronomy when I realized she hadn’t moved. Glancing over my shoulder, I frowned as she started to back away. “You’re going in the wrong direction, sweetheart.”

“I can’t,” she croaked out.

“Can’t what?” I faced her.

Avery’s eyes met mine for a second and then she spun around and ran. Bag thumping off her hip, hair flying like a cape. The chick ran, actually freaking ran. My mouth dropped open.

What in the hell had just happened?

The door opened behind me, and a deep, slightly accented voice called out. “Mr. Hamilton, are you joining us today?”

Shit. I closed my eyes.

“Or are you planning to stand in the hallway the remaining time?” Professor Drage asked.

Sighing, I turned around. “Joining the class, clearly.”