Ash, not Asher, Mom, I’d have said, if only I retained the ability to speak.

She nudged me with her shoulder. “What do you say, Maya? Where are your manners?”

I couldn’t manage a single word. Ash lowered himself into the chair opposite me, while Mom fussed over him and Brad, handing out menus and rattling off the specials as if we’d been here a million times before. I couldn’t tell which one of us was more nervous.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Ash said to me, his voice deep, his English accent as pronounced as his dad’s, only way, way cooler. As he perused his menu, I stole another glance, noticed his eyes were an orangey-gold color I’d only ever seen on the top of the old man’s walking stick in Jurassic Park, the original one Mom insisted I watch before the newer movies because she considered it a classic.

I still hadn’t spoken, and tried hard to come up with something that wouldn’t sound utterly lame. Impossible, so I kept quiet, focusing on getting a new bouncy sensation in my heart under control instead. I wondered if Mom might come to my rescue, but she and Brad were already engrossed in conversation, chatting about something they’d seen on the news.

Ash gestured to my shirt. “I’m guessing you’re twelve and a math fan?”

I looked up at him, swallowed hard and nodded once.

“Me, too.” He let out a small laugh, so lush and thick, I could almost taste it, like hot chocolate sauce poured over a banana split. “Well, I’m fifteen, not twelve,” he continued, “but math is my favorite subject.”

I took my first breath in what had to have been a year. “Not sports?”

“Sure, I love sports, too. But math is cool. If you ever need any help—”

“Hey, Ash, how are you?” One of the girls from the other table stood next to us, the prettiest one with the big, deep blue eyes, a blond mane, which almost reached her tiny waist, and glossy pink kiss me lips. She twirled a thick lock around her finger and shifted her head to one side as she waited for his reply.

“Hi, Sydney.” Ash sat back in his chair but wasn’t smiling. His face had gone into neutral—indifference, almost. He obviously had superpowers because I’d seen boys like him fall under the spell of girls like her in less than a nanosecond.

“We’re going to the beach,” she said, still twirling and leaning toward him, the tops of her breasts dangerously close to spilling from her shirt. “Come with? I have a new bikini.”

“No, thanks.”