He smiles, raking his hand through his longish, wavy brown hair, like the worst kind of show-off. I mean, just because he has exceptionally cool hair for a teacher, doesn’t mean he should flaunt it like that.

“I’m a few minutes early,” he says, gaze locked on hers. “So please, take as much time as you need. I’m fine talking with Ever here.”

“So you’ve met?” Sabine rests her overstuffed briefcase against her hip, glancing between us.

I shake my head, blurting, “No!” before I can stop. Unsure if I’m saying no to her question, or to this whole situation. But still, there it is, an unequivocal no, and I’ve no plans to rescind it. “I mean, yeah, we’ve met and all but—just now.” I pause, their eyes narrowed, as confused as I am as to where this is going. “What I mean is, it’s not like we knew each other before or anything.” I peer at them, knowing I’ve only confused them more. “Anyway, he’s right. You should just—um—go upstairs and get ready—and—” I jab my thumb toward Munoz since there’s no way I’m calling him Paul, no way I’m calling him anything. “And we’ll just hang here until you’re ready.” I smile, hoping to keep him outside, on the driveway, far from my den.

But unfortunately, Sabine’s manners are much better than mine. And I’ve barely finished the sentence before she shakes her head and says, “Don’t be ridiculous. Come inside and relax. And, Ever, why don’t you order yourself a pizza or something since I haven’t had time to get to the store.”

I follow, lagging behind as much as I can without literally dragging my feet. Partly in protest, and partly because I can’t risk bumping into either of them, not trusting my quantum remote to bar me from a sneak peek of their date.

Sabine unlocks the front door, glancing over her shoulder as she says, “Ever? Okay? You’re good with the pizza?”

I shrug, remembering the two slices of vegetarian Jude left me, which I proceeded to tear into little bits and flush down the toilet as soon as he left. “I’m good. I grabbed a little something at work.” I meet her gaze, thinking this just might be the perfect time to tell her, knowing she won’t freak with Munoz (Paul!) standing nearby.

“You got a job?” She gapes, all wide-eyed and slack jawed right there in the entryway.

“Um, yeah.” I pull my shoulders in and start scratching my arm even though it doesn’t itch. “I thought I told you, no?”

“No.” She shoots me a look that’s loaded with meaning—none of it good. “You definitely failed to mention it.”

I shrug, picking at the hem of my shirt, trying to appear unconcerned. “Oh, well, there it is. I’m officially employed.” Chasing it with a laugh that, even to my ears, rings false.

“And just where did you get this job of yours?” she asks, voice lowered, gaze following Munoz as he heads into the den, eager to avoid all the bad mojo I’ve so brilliantly introduced.

“Downtown. At a place that sells books and—stuff.”

She squints.

“Listen,” I say. “Why don’t we discuss this later? I’d hate for you guys to be late or anything.” I glance toward the den where Munoz is hunkered down on the couch.

She glances at the den, expression grim, voice low and urgent when she says, “I’m glad you found a job, Ever, don’t get me wrong. I just wish you would’ve told me, that’s all. We’ll need to find a replacement for you at work now, and—” She shakes her head. “Well, we’ll talk about this later. Tonight. When I get back.”

And even though I’m thrilled to learn that her plans with Munoz do not extend to the morning, I still look at her and say, “Um, here’s the thing. Haven’s cat died, and she’s having this memorial service, and she’s really upset, which means it could run really late, so—” I shrug, not bothering to finish, allowing her to fill in the blanks that I’ve left.

“Tomorrow then.” She turns. “Now go talk to Paul while I change.”

She runs up the stairs, briefcase swinging, heels pounding, as I take a deep breath and make for the den, taking my place behind a big, sturdy armchair, hardly believing it’s come to this.

“Just so you know, I’m not calling you Paul,” I say, taking in his designer jeans, untucked shirt, hipster watch, and shoes that are way too cool for any teacher to wear.

“That’s a relief.” He smiles, gaze light and easy, resting on mine. “Might get kind of awkward at school.”

I swallow hard, fiddling with the back of the chair, unsure just where I’m expected to take it from here. Because even though my entire life is undeniably weird, being forced to make entertaining banter with my history teacher who knows one of my biggest secrets takes it to a whole new level.

But apparently I’m the only one who’s uncomfortable around here. Munoz is completely relaxed, sitting back on the coach, foot resting on knee, the absolute picture of ease. “So what exactly is your relationship to Sabine?” he asks, arms spread wide across the cushions.

“She’s my aunt.” I study him, checking for signs of disbelief, confusion, surprise, but all I get is an interested gaze. “She became my legal guardian when my parents passed away.” I lift my shoulders and look at him.

“I had no idea. I’m so sorry—” He scrunches his face, voice fading as sadness fills up the space.