“Uh… to look at my calendar,” I said flippantly.

A smile crept across his face. He knew he’d met a challenge as big as competing against a 10-and-0 team.

“I may already have commitments,” I said.

“What could be more important than a date with me?” he said seductively.

It was hard to resist him. He was very charming and charismatic. I did my best not to fold or quickly kiss up to him.

“I can think of a few things, but not many,” I teased.

“Volunteering at a nursing home?” he wondered. “I’ve heard you are quite the humanitarian.”

I wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or sincere.

“In fact, yes,” I said defiantly, and continued on.

“Hey, wait a minute,” he said, stopping in front of me. “Then what about Saturday?”

I liked his tenacity, but I’d have been a fool to keep pushing him away.

“I’ll cancel my plans,” I said, knowing I wasn’t busy.

“Good,” he finally said. “Then mark my name in bold letters for Saturday night.”

My stomach filled with butterflies. I caught up to my friends, who cheered and jumped higher than two caffeinated cheerleaders. Not only were we a threesome, we could be a sixsome.

I was as stunned as I was excited.

My sister was the one who always had the doorbell ringing for her. Now it was finally my turn.

Nash and I spent our first date at one of his football practices. My friends and I watched from the bleachers as the jocks did push-ups and sprints and caught passes. It wasn’t as intimate and “get to know you” as I thought a first date would be. Since then, most of our dates had been spent with me on the sidelines, except for the occasional times he drove me home.

While I spent the games jotting down ideas for stories I hoped to write, Ivy primped for Jake, and Abby jumped on the bleachers cheering for Dylan.

For some reason — or many — Nash and I didn’t click together as easily as our counterparts. But I enjoyed the time we did share together. At day’s end, though, when I shut down my computer, I often gazed out my bedroom window and up at the moon and wondered if, like my friends, I’d ever find true love.

When a new student first arrived at Legend’s Run High, their entrance didn’t go unnoticed. Though everyone at Legend’s Run High didn’t hang out together, we all knew one another. It was odd to see a strange face.

It was late October, just after the campfire and werewolf-scare outing, and I was taking notes in government class when something caught my attention. Outside our classroom window, I saw an olive green beat-up Jeep pulling into an empty space in the student parking lot. I had to squint but noticed a WWF sticker on the front bumper. The driver-side door opened and a guy got out, wearing a vintage brown leather motorcycle jacket, torn jeans, and black hiking boots. He walked into the school building. A few moments later, the bell rang to change classes.

When I arrived at English class, I found my desk occupied. The guy in the vintage leather jacket was riffling through his backpack and placing a notebook on my desktop. In Mrs. Clark’s class the students weren’t seated in alphabetical order, or any other order for that matter, but rather we elected to take a desk where we wanted. Since school began, I sat in row six, first chair from the window. Abby sat next to me and Ivy next to her. Their boyfriends and Nash sat along the row nearest to the door.

When I noticed the stranger sitting in my seat, I didn’t know what to do. I preferred to sit by my friends, but he was a new student and I wasn’t about to tell him to move — I just didn’t think it was polite. Instead, I chose an empty chair in the back.

Ivy spotted the stranger sitting in my seat and took it upon herself to confront the situation.

“That’s okay—” I tried to say, but my words weren’t heard.

“Excuse me, that desk is already taken,” she said abrasively. Ivy got very territorial when it came to breaking up our clique. But it was okay with me. I could survive a day sitting on my own.

The new guy opened his notebook and looked up at the blond girl hovering over him, scolding him as if she were the teacher. I was hoping Ivy wasn’t going to make a fuss. The new student would probably have moved had she been polite, but it seemed as if it was too late.

I hid behind my textbook. For a moment Ivy wasn’t as confident as she was when she first approached him. I hoped this meant she was going to soften and either apologize or just return to her seat.

Instead, Abby joined her. Even though Ivy and Abby were pretty, their temperaments could sometimes leave even the kindest gentlemen challenging them to a duel rather than tipping their hats. Ivy threw her hair back and straightened her stance.

“This is my friend’s desk,” Ivy said, again in a very unpleasant tone. “She sits here every day.”

The new guy didn’t budge. He paused, weighing his words. “Are you two on the welcoming committee?” he asked. “I didn’t see your pictures in the brochure.”

A few skater students around him snickered. I couldn’t help but giggle, too.

Abby tightened her lips. After all, she was used to competition, and it appeared that she wanted to win this battle.

“I understand you are new…” Abby charged, in a strong whisper, “but things work a certain way here, and the sooner you know this the easier it will be for you.”

He sat up and leaned into Ivy. “This is your friend?” he said to her. “You might want to reconsider.”

We all laughed again, even Dylan and Jake, who probably wished they could have said it. Abby and Ivy both folded their arms. It was clear the new student wasn’t going to budge under the pressure of his two bossy classmates.

“No, that is our friend,” they said in unison. Then they both pointed to me.

The new guy turned around. He was completely captivating and model gorgeous. His short hair was dark and wavy, his face as perfectly sculpted as I’d ever seen. He stared straight at me — his eyes a deep, riveting royal blue. We locked gazes and I almost lost my breath. My face flushed red. I was unable to look away, and I didn’t really want to.

I’d never felt such a powerful stare — or witnessed such a handsome student.

He almost broke a smile, and my heart along with it.

The new student turned back, grabbed his notebook and backpack, and rose. He towered over my friends, who were blocking his way. They stepped aside, and he moved to an empty chair in the back of the class without another word.

As Ivy and Abby waved me over, I slunk back to my desk. When Mrs. Clark introduced the new student as Brandon Maddox, I wasn’t about to turn around and make eye contact with him again.

Legend’s Run High School’s lunchroom was a microcosm of Legend’s Run itself. Students stuck to their sides and, like religious sects, were subdivided. The usual gamers, jocks, skaters, and preps each had their own table.

Lunch, for me, was the highlight of the school day. I got to hang out with my friends and talk and eat — two of my favorite things.

When I reached the cafeteria, Ivy pulled Abby and me over to the vending machine.

“I finally have the four-one-one on the new guy,” she began. “I heard he’s a Westsider.”

“Obviously,” Abby said. “Did you see his coat?”

“There was nothing wrong with his coat. I liked it—” I tried. “Besides, you didn’t have to—”

“Do you two want to hear this or not?” Ivy asked.

“Of course we do,” Abby replied.

“He lives with his grandparents,” Ivy began. “I think he’s from Miller’s Glen and was kicked out of his home. He’s a juvie—”

“I heard he’s a runaway,” Abby said, placing a dollar into the machine.

“You did?” Ivy felt challenged that she wasn’t on top of the breaking news story.

“Yes. A runaway,” Abby said. She pushed a cola button and grabbed her diet soda.