Layne bent over her notebook again. “Please.”

Kara began to sing. “Layne and Gabriel sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I ”

“Layne?”

God, this could not be happening. Her face bright red, Kara singing that stupid song, and Gabriel Merrick appearing around the corner.

Kara dissolved into giggles. Yeah, this was so hilarious.

Layne couldn’t look at him. She felt like her entire body might burst into flame. She stacked the yearbooks on the table, then shoved her notebook into her backpack.

Gabriel cleared his throat. It sounded like he’d moved closer.

“Can I talk to you?”

This made Kara giggle harder. “Oh. Maybe I should give you two a moment alone.”

“That’d be awesome,” he said absently. “Thanks.”

The giggles stopped like someone had flipped a switch. “Seriously?” said Kara.

Now Layne looked up. Kara was staring at Gabriel, dismayed, like she couldn’t believe he’d want to talk to Layne, when Kara was fully available, boobs perked out and everything.

“Don’t bother,” Layne said.

Gabriel put a hand on her bag, preventing her from slinging it over a shoulder. He was just suddenly there, in her space, close enough to touch.

“You won’t even give me a chance to apologize?”

“Like you’d mean it.” She jerked the bag out from under his hand and started walking. She didn’t even bother to zip it all the way.

“Apologize for what?” called Kara.

Gabriel was right behind her. “Of course I’d mean it. What the hell are you trying to say?”

“Shhh.” Mrs. Beard, the librarian, poked her head out from where she was shelving.

“Sorry,” Layne whispered, hustling for the exit.

Gabriel followed her straight out the doors. “You won’t even hear me out?”

“No.” If she stopped to turn around, he’d see how red her cheeks were. Had he heard Kara’s little chant?

“Why not?” He sounded honestly perplexed.

“Because you’re the kind of guy who apologizes because you’re supposed to, not because you truly give a crap.”

“All right, look.” He caught her arm and spun her around.

She gasped and stared up at him and the dim school hallway seemed to collapse around her. She had to take a step back, and her shoulders ran into a row of lockers.

The hallway was empty. Kara hadn’t followed them.

Just her and Gabriel. She had to stop staring into his eyes or she was going to forgive him for everything, always.

“What?” she demanded.

“I’m not sorry for what I said to your father.”

“Well, you should be.” She bit the words out, and it helped.

“Mentioning condoms? Are you insane?”

“He was a dick to start with.” Gabriel’s blue eyes were intense and almost frightening. “And I’m not real crazy about getting accused of rape in the first thirty seconds I meet someone.”

“Wow, you’re really good at this apology stuff.”

He took a long breath and didn’t look away like he was gathering his temper, or his mettle, or . . . something.

“I am sorry,” he said, “for upsetting you.”

He meant it. She could feel it. It cost him something to say it, and the little tugs in her chest were begging her to nod, to forgive him, to acknowledge that there were many things unsaid, on both sides of this conversation.

She didn’t move.

Gabriel moved a bit closer. “I’m sorry, Layne. Really.”

His voice was low and rough, and this close, she could make out each individual eyelash, the line of his cheekbone, the bare start of shadow across his jaw. She felt ready to slide down the lockers and melt into a puddle at his feet.

But she couldn’t stop thinking about her father’s warnings last night, about an outlet. Her dad was right. Falling for a guy like Gabriel would end up with her hurt and her secrets all over school.

“So,” she said, feeling her throat close up, “is this when girls usually fall all over you and forgive you for everything?”

He jerked back like she’d hit him.

God, she regretted it immediately. His eyes went dark, walled off. Closed. A second ago, the distance between them had felt like an inch; now it felt like a mile.

But then he glanced down the hallway and back at her. He almost had a small smile on his face. “A friend just told me I pick a fight every time someone gets close to figuring me out.”

She swallowed.

Gabriel leaned in again, putting a hand on the locker beside her head. “What’re your secrets, Layne?”

She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t breathe.

He held there for a moment.

Then he reached around her and jerked a yellow notebook out of her open backpack the one she used to keep assign-ments in order. A pen was still attached to the spiral, and he pulled it loose.

That was so unexpected that she faltered. “My . . . what . . .

why . . .”

He’d flipped to the middle and was already writing.

Before her heart could catch up, he shoved it back into her bag. He didn’t even smile, just stepped back. “Call me when you’re ready to cut through the bullshit.”

He’d turned the corner before she could get it together to pull the notebook out of her backpack, to see what he’d written.

There in the middle, scrawled across the page, was a phone number.