and puts his arm around my shoulder.

  “So,” he says. “You hate chemistry?”

  “Not anymore,” I say.

  He laughs and says, “Seriously, though.

  Are you passing? Flunking? What?”

  So I tell him the truth—

  that I’m actually doing fine.

  That I’ve got a B+ average

  in the class.

  That I was just in a rotten mood yesterday

  when I was complaining to my mom.

  “Well,” he says, “then I guess

  you’ll have to start getting some Ds.

  And then, very slowly,

  work your way up toward Cs.”

  I Shudder and Bite My Lower Lip

  Because when you’ve worked hard

  and done well in school all your life,

  it’s not easy to wrap your head around

  trying to get Ds.

  But when I tell Luke that messing up

  in chemistry will ruin my grade point average,

  when I tell him I want to go to college,

  a good college,

  he just pats me on my head

  and tells me not to worry.

  When I say I don’t like the idea

  of flunking tests on purpose,

  he laughs and says we’ll bring

  my grade back up by the end of the year.

  When I ask him if he’s sure about that,

  he doesn’t answer.

  He just leans in and kisses me.

  I’m Sitting Here in Chemistry

  Taking a quiz

  on vapor pressure and liquids

  and how they reach

  their boiling point,

  feeling like

  I’m about to reach mine.

  I know

  every single answer,

  but Luke told me to get

  at least a third of them wrong.

  He said if I do too well,

  there won’t be any reason

  for him to keep on

  “tutoring” me.

  Though this pretending-to-be-dumb thing,

  I didn’t know it would make me feel

  like I’ve got the starring role

  in a very bad play.

  At Lunch

  Rose asks Taylor and me

  how we did on our chemistry quiz.

  I mumble something about

  boiling points being my downfall.

  “But that quiz was easy,” Taylor says.

  “And since when do you have a downfall?”

  “Yeah,” Rose says. “You are, and always

  have been, a downfall-free zone.”

  She’s right.

  I always have been.

  But am I anymore?

  A Few Days Later

  Luke’s waiting after school again,

  to drive me to the library

  for our second weekly “tutoring” session.

  We go up

  to the same study room as before

  and he pulls the blinds closed.

  He starts kissing me right away.

  But they’re those crushing kind of kisses.

  Not the romantic kind.

  He backs me up against the wall,

  and grinds his body against mine

  till it feels like I’m getting black and blue.

  “I’ve been trying to take it slow,” he whispers.

  “Trying so hard . . . But I’m not sure

  I can go on like this much longer.”

  “I’m not sure I can either,” I say.

  And as he eases me down onto the chair

  next to his, and unzips his fly,

  he’s completely unaware

  that my words

  mean the opposite

  of his.

  He Presses My Hand Down onto Him

  An eternity passes.

  Then, just after Luke finally finishes

  and zips his fly back up,

  the door

  to the study room

  springs open!

  A guy says, “Whoops. Sorry.

  Didn’t know anyone was in here.”

  “No problem, mate,” Luke says with a smile.

  But as soon as the door closes,

  it slips from his face.

  “That was a bloody close call,” he says.

  And suddenly I’m shaking.

  I’m shaking and I can’t stop.

  “We shouldn’t come here anymore,” I say.

  “Don’t worry, Lily. I’m working on

  finding a better place for us. And until then,

  we’ll just have to be a little more careful.”

  “A little more careful?” I say.

  “Okay,” he says with a chuckle.

  “A lot more careful.”

  On the Way Home

  I stare out the window of the car

  and notice pumpkins

  grinning at me from front porches

  all over the neighborhood.

  Their burning eyes

  remind me of Luke’s.

  It’s hard to believe

  Halloween is only two weeks away.

  They say time flies

  when you’re having fun.

  But I guess it flies

  just as fast

  when you’re having no fun

  at all.

  On Saturday, I Go to a Sleepover

  And even though I’m sitting right here

  in the same room with Taylor and Rose,

  I feel like I’m on

  an entirely different planet.

  Because when Rose starts talking

  about her all-consuming crush on Quinn,

  and Taylor starts gushing about Evan

  and about how much he misses him,

  I can’t really chime in and tell them

  about my “tutoring” sessions with Luke.

  If they knew how old Luke really was

  and what we were doing, they’d freak.

  And they don’t make it any easier

  when they bring up the topic of Presley.

  Which of course they do, since talking about

  him seems to be their new favorite hobby.

  Rose says she knows why

  I told him I only want to be friends.

  And Taylor says it’s obvious

  that I’m still sneaking off with my “perv.”

  I deny it—but they don’t believe me.

  The Next Morning

  When we go to Bella’s,

  she says she needs my help in the back room.

  Which is just a way to get me alone

  so she can ask me personal questions.

  Like: “So how’s your love life been lately?”

  I tell her it’s nonexistent.

  But she sees through me

  as easily as if I’m made of Saran Wrap.

  I can tell

  by the look on her face.

  Though she doesn’t

  say anything.

  She just offers me an oatmeal cookie,

  the tiny bells in her skirt tinkling.

  And for some reason,

  the sound of them makes me feel

  like crying.

  At Lunch with the Triatomics

  I’m listening to Rose talking about

  how excited she is that Quinn asked her

  to the Halloween dance.

  And about how

  they’ve already begun working

  on their Beauty and the Beast costumes.

  I’m listening to Taylor swooning

  about how thrilled he is that Evan’s

  coming to town for the festivities,

  and about how he can’t wait for us to meet him,

  and about how they’re planning to go to the dance

  dressed as Chicken and Waffles.

  I’m listening

  to both of them going on and on and on

  and suddenly I find myself wishing
r />   I was going to the dance with Presley,

  dressing up as a camera and a tripod

  or whatever—

  wishing that my life

  was as simple and uncomplicated

  as theirs.

  At Our Third “Tutoring” Session

  Luke tugs down the venetian blind.

  Then he pushes his chair

  right up against the door.

  “I’m still looking for a better place,” he says.

  “But in the meantime, at least no one

  will be able to barge in on us.”

  Even so,

  the whole time I’m touching him,

  my blood’s pounding in my ears.

  Then, when he finally finishes, my phone buzzes.

  It’s a text from Rose, with a photo attached.

  She’s modeling a poufy yellow prom gown.

  Below it she’s written: 1st try at my Beauty

  costume for the dance. Thoughts?

  Luke glances at my screen.

  “Your school’s having a Halloween dance?” he asks.

  “Why?” I sigh. “Are you gonna ask me to go?

  Like a real couple?”

  “How I wish I could,” he says.

  “Though we are a real couple, Lily.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “A real couple

  who can’t even be seen in public together.”

  Luke Pulls Me onto His Lap

  He says he wishes things were different.

  He wishes we could go on dates.

  He wishes he could take me to the dance.

  Then he pauses, like he’s thinking.

  And a second later, his face lights up—

  like he’s gotten the best idea ever.

  “You know what?” he says. “You should go.

  Go to the dance with Taylor and Rose.”

  “I . . . I should?” I say.

  “Absolutely. Just because

  we can’t celebrate Halloween together,

  that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be able to.”

  I can feel

  my pulse quicken.

  “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?” I say.

  “Of course not,” he says, kissing my cheek.

  “Just put on a clever costume and go out

  and have a brilliant time with your mates.”

  And

  I’m so excited,

  I hardly even mind

  when he unzips his fly again . . .

  It’s Hard to Come Up with a Costume

  When you aren’t

  half of a couple.

  I obsess over it for a few days,

  bouncing ideas off the Triatomics.

  But in the end,

  I just give up

  and decide to go

  as Little Red Riding Hood—

  because Taylor has an old red cape

  with a hood attached that I can borrow,

  and Rose has

  a nice little red skirt.

  Besides, I know a thing or two

  about how to handle the Big Bad Wolf.

  Way more than

  I’d like to know.

  Before the Dance

  We all meet up at Rose’s house.

  And even though Evan is dressed as a waffle,

  I can see right away why Taylor likes him.

  Because when we’re introduced, he gets this

  real serious look on his face, and asks me what

  I’m bringing to Grandma’s house in my basket.

  He says he sure hopes

  it isn’t chicken. Or waffles.

  And we all crack up.

  I can see why Rose likes Quinn, too.

  His Beast costume shows off his broad shoulders.

  He looks like he walked straight out of a love story.

  And the way he beams at her—

  you can see how much he admires her.

  And not only because she’s pretty.

  Both couples seem . . .

  Well, they just seem

  so meant-for-each-other.

  I used to think Luke and I

  were meant-for-each-other too.

  But lately,

  I’m not so sure.

  Rose’s Brother Drops Us Off at School

  We weave through the throngs of trick-or-treaters

  on the sidewalk, and head into the dance.

  It’s amazing what a bunch of pumpkins

  and gauze and plastic skeletons can do for a gym.

  And with the fluorescent lights

  turned off like this, and just a bunch

  of tiny orange bulbs twinkling everywhere,

  you could almost say it has atmosphere.

  I’m dancing with Taylor and Evan and Rose

  and Quinn, only feeling a tiny bit sorry for myself

  that I don’t have an actual date—

  when Presley shows up!

  He’s dressed as a woodcutter.

  I shoot Rose a look, but she tries (and fails)

  to act like she has nothing to do

  with this astonishing “coincidence.”

  Presley doesn’t say anything.

  He just grins,

  slings his cardboard ax over his shoulder,

  and starts dancing with me.

  He’s got great moves—

  cool, but kind of goofy at the same time.

  Like he’s poking fun at his own dancing skills.

  It’s . . . It’s ridiculously adorable.

  After a Half Hour

  Of the best time

  I’ve had in forever,

  the DJ starts playing a slow song.

  Rose rests her head

  on Quinn’s shoulder.

  Taylor holds Evan tight.

  Presley and I watch, as both couples

  close their eyes and begin to sway,

  drifting off into the crowd.

  Then he turns and looks at me,

  like, Do you want to?

  And I tell him with my eyes that I do.

  He smiles and holds out his arms.

  But just as I’m about to slip into them,

  a dark shadow looms up from behind him

  and this guy wearing a wolf mask

  steps right in front of him,

  slips his hands inside my cape,

  wraps his fingers around my waist,

  and before I even have a chance to protest,

  he dances me

  away.

  I Glance Back Over My Shoulder

  And see

  Presley’s face,

  see the shock

  and disappointment.

  His shoulders sag

  as he turns and walks off.

  I’ve got to go after him!

  I struggle to break free.

  But the hands around my waist

  just tighten their hold.

  And the menacing gleam in Luke’s eyes

  seems to paralyze me.

  Here We Are

  Finally out in public together.

  As close as we’ve ever gotten

  to being on a real date.

  And because Luke’s wearing a mask,

  and the lights are down so low,

  he can hold me as close as he wants.

  There was a time

  I’d have given anything to be out

  with him like this, dancing in his arms.

  Though now that it’s actually happening,

  his arms feel like tentacles,

  squeezing the life out of me.

  “It was almost too easy to sneak in here,”

  he whispers. “I just went round back

  and told them I was helping out the DJ.”

  He grabs my hips under my cape

  and grinds up against me, murmuring,

  “I knew you’d love this surprise.”

  But I don’t love it.

  I don’t love it

  at all.

  As the Song Nears Its Finis
h

  Luke’s holding me so tight

  I can’t breathe.

  He whispers in my ear, “You’re such

  a sexy Little Red Riding Hood.”

  He growls softly and nips at my neck.

  A chill runs up my spine.

  And the whole time, he’s dancing me

  closer and closer to the back door,

  telling me that as soon as this song ends

  he’s going to whisk me away from here.

  “Then we’ll have three whole hours

  to be alone together,” he says.

  “And the Halloween dance

  will be your alibi.”

  The Second the Music Stops

  Luke tugs me

  toward the exit.

  I try to pull his fingers off my wrist,

  but his grip is like a handcuff.

  “But I . . . I just got here,” I say.

  “I don’t want to leave yet.”

  “You’ll have even more fun,” he says,

  “where we’re going.”

  “Where are we going?” I ask,

  trying to keep the wobble out of my voice.

  “It’s a secret,” he says,

  shoving open the door.

  I take one last glance

  back over my shoulder,

  hoping that I’ll see my friends

  rushing to my rescue.

  But I don’t see

  Taylor or Rose anywhere.

  And I don’t see the woodcutter either.

  We’re Driving Through the Dark Streets

  Jazz oozing out of the speakers,

  when I get the first text:

  Hey Lil. Where r u?

  Tay n me can’t find u anywhere.

  “Who’s it from?” Luke asks.

  “Rose,” I say. “She and Taylor

  want to know where I am.”

  “Well, tell them . . . tell them

  you got food poisoning,” he says.

  “Tell them your mom came and got you.”

  So I do—because if I told them the truth,

  it’d probably wreck the dance for them.

  But then, a few minutes later,

  my phone buzzes again.

  Luke shoots me a look.

  This one’s from Presley:

  Rose says ur sick. Anything I can do?

  “Who is it this time?” Luke snaps.

  “Oh, it’s just . . . just my friends again.

  They’re worried about me.”