“Look, I really have to go,” Beth told her, pulling away, wishing that a hole would open up and swallow her before their little chat could go any further.
“No, no, I almost forgot why I wanted to talk to you in the first place,” Harper said, once again threading her arm through Beth’s as if they were the best of friends. As if they were anything. “So, listen, you aced that practice test, right?”
Beth darted her eyes toward the ground and reddened slightly.
“I guess… Why?”
“We knew it!” Harper said triumphantly.
“We?”
“Me-and Kane. Look, he’d kill me if he knew I was telling you this, but Kane’s not too hot on standardized tests. He’s a smart guy, but he just freezes up. Have you heard that rumor, how they give you six hundred points just for writing your name?”
“Uh-huh,” she mumbled dubiously.
“Well, let’s just say Kane’s going to need it.”
Beth snuck a glance over at the Greek god of Haven High, preening for a couple of blondes from the cheerleading team. Beth wasn’t surprised to hear he was lagging behind. From what she’d seen of Kane (another one of Adam’s friends whose “good side” was impossibly difficult to find), his definition of a hard day’s work involved vodka, girls, and plenty of naps. Still, it didn’t seem like her business-or her problem.
“Why are you telling me this, Harper?” she asked, again pulling her arm away.
“Kane doesn’t want to be stuck in this deadbeat town any more than the rest of us,” Harper explained. “Which means college. Which means decent SAT scores. Which means… he needs your help.”
“Me?” Beth wrinkled her face in surprise-but a warm rush of pride began to spread through her. That they were desperate, and they’d come to her, needed her…
“You,” Harper confirmed. “He wants you to tutor him.”
“Then why isn’t he asking me himself?”
Harper laughed and shrugged. “You know guys, they’re idiots. He’s just embarrassed. Kane can be a little shy sometimes, you know?”
“Kane?” Beth repeated in disbelief. She looked back toward the entrance of the school, where Kane had hoisted one of the cheerleaders into his arms and was now spinning her around as she squealed in mock dismay. He didn’t look shy to her. Arrogant, maybe. Sleazy. Impressed with his own existence. All of the above. But shy?
“I’m not really going to have that much time,” she cautioned Harper. “I don’t know if-”
“Beth, he
“Really?” When she was eleven, Beth had found a three-legged jackrabbit lying in her backyard and, with her father’s help, had nursed it back to health. She’d never been able to say no to desperation-and today was no different. “Well, I guess if he needs me…”
“Great!” Harper tore a piece of paper from her notebook and scrawled something on it before handing it to Beth. “Here’s his number. I’ll tell him you’re going to call ASAP.”
And she skipped away before Beth had a chance to change her mind.
Mission accomplished-and so easily that it was difficult to feel too proud of herself.
But Harper managed.
“You are going to love me,” she crowed into her cell once Kane answered the phone.
“Not unless you’re waiting for me in the parking lot with some black coffee and a Playboy bunny,” Kane retorted. “Otherwise, I’m kind of busy right now.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” Harper, about a hundred yards away, sneered at the sight of his adoring harem. Had these girls no respect for themselves?
Stupid question.
“What do you mean, you can see?” Kane looked up from the nearest buxom brunette and began scanning the parking lot.
“On your left, loser boy.” Harper waved lazily until he spotted her. “And you’re not too busy for this. Trust me.”
She snapped the phone shut and watched as Kane grudgingly kissed the girls good-bye and jogged over.
“This better be good,” he grumbled once he’d reached her. “I’ve been bored long enough for one day. I need to go out and wash off the stench of all this educational earnestness with some good, old-fashioned debauchery.”
“What you need is to go home and study for the SATs,” Harper countered.
“The SATs?” he asked incredulously.
She nodded.
“The SATs that are three weeks away?”
She nodded again.
“The SATs that I couldn’t give a shit about?”
“You got it.”
“Harper, you know that practice test in there? I scored above a seven hundred on every section. You know what that means?” He spoke slowly and patiently, as if she would soon be taking her own test-English as a second language. “It means I’m not studying today, tomorrow-hell, I may never study again.”
Harper gave him a gentle pat on the back and shook her head sadly. “No, you’re going home and cracking the books. Right now, and tomorrow, and the next day. You’re going to make the library your new best friend.”
“And why would I want to do that?” he sneered.
Harper grinned, and jerked a thumb across the parking lot toward Beth, who was climbing into Adam’s rusty maroon Chevrolet.
“Meet your new tutor.”
Kane’s eyes widened. “You didn’t!”
“Oh, I did.”
Harper laid out her vision for him-long, late nights huddled together over the books; frequent breaks for coffee, pizza, and intimate getting-to-know-you sessions; close quarters; moonlit strolls; high stress, low inhibitions-when Harper Grace made a deal, she delivered. And even Kane had to admit that she had just delivered Beth to his doorstep, complete with gift wrap and ruffled bow.
“And while I’m sweeping Beth off her feet with my charm and feigned stupidity, I assume you’ll be… taking care of Adam?”
Harper allowed herself a moment to enjoy a second vision: Adam, sitting at home, bored, lonely, angry, jealous, and primed for… well, anything.
“A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do,” she said sweetly.
Kane laughed and slung an arm around her shoulders.
“And I have no doubt, Grace,” he assured her, “that you’re just the girl to do it.”
Having finished eavesdropping on the pathetic scheming out in the parking lot, Kaia headed back inside the school to take care of some unfinished business. Watching Harper and Kane haplessly put together their juvenile little plot had inspired her-why should they be the only ones having any fun?
She tugged down her silk tank top and hitched up her blue miniskirt so that her perfect (and worth every cent) cleavage and Pilates-sculpted thighs had maximum visibility. Then she stepped inside the classroom. Jack Powell may have thought he could avoid her forever, but his time had just run out.
“Hey, Mr. Powell,” she whispered, leaning against the door frame and aiming an unmistakable look in his direction familiar to any adult-movie fan as a silent “Hey, big guy, throw me down and do me right here on the floor” invitation. It was intended to be ironic. Partly. “Long time, no see.”
“I see you every day in class, Ms. Sellers,” he said. She shivered at the sound of his voice. “And trust me, that’s quite enough.”
He turned his back on her. Big mistake.
Kaia closed the door and crossed the empty classroom, shedding the cheesy sex-me-up grin as she went. It seemed Mr. Powell was still playing hard to get-and she was beginning to enjoy his game. She laid a light hand on the small of his back, saying, “I see
