He lets me concentrate on my assignment for a few minutes, and I’m thankful. We had a half hour to take a picture of something inspiring. I knew right away I’d find my greatest source of inspiration in the art lab. Considering Rhett took less time than I did to complete his assignment, he must have shot the football field or the weight room, where all the magic happens, before hurrying back.

I swirl my picture around and around in the tray, waiting for it to finish. Out of the corner of my eye, I chance another impatient peek at Rhett’s tray. His picture is farther along than mine, and I have to blink my eyes a couple times to make sure I’m actually seeing what I think I’m seeing. It’s like looking into a mirror with my own face staring back at me.

“Why did you take that?” I ask him. He’s going to fail today’s assignment if he doesn’t go take another picture. He doesn’t have time to mess around, or Mr. Jasper will kick him out of the darkroom.

His face remains serious, not giving away a single clue. Maybe it’s a cruel joke, and I’m today’s shark prey, but he only shrugs his shoulders like it’s perfectly normal for him to have a picture of me in his possession. “I’m creating art. What’s it look like?”

“It looks like me, that’s what.” He can’t be serious right now. I’m not art. Kinsley West is a lot of things, but art isn’t one of them.

“I’m glad we got that straightened out.”

“But, Rhett, you didn’t do the assignment. You won’t get any credit.”

He raises his head, searching for my deep brown eyes in the already darkened room. Sometimes they’re so dark, I can’t even find my own pupils in the mirror. “Who says I didn’t do the assignment?”

With the tongs in my hand, I point at his tray. “Rhett, that’s a picture of me.”

“I know it is. Maybe you inspire me. Did you ever consider that?”

Absolutely not.

All I can do is I stare into the red plastic tray as my face floats around inside it. Nobody’s ever told me I inspire them before, but I can’t let him know how much his words mean to me. Not when I’m still trying to figure out if I believe him or not. “Good luck explaining that to Mr. Jasper.”

“I don’t have to explain anything, the picture speaks for itself.”

This is the only chance I may ever have to hear what Rhett thinks of me. Not what everyone else thinks, but his own personal opinion of a girl who has been in his life without every really being in his life. So, I whisper, “What does the picture say?”

He sets the solution back on the table, pulls the photograph out of the tray, and hangs it behind us to dry—where the rest of the class will be able to see it, too. He points to it as it hangs. “That I captured the prettiest girl in the school.”

Is he for real right now?

There is no way Rhett Taylor just told me I was the prettiest girl in the whole school. It makes no sense considering he can have any girl he wants, and most of his choices are more beautiful at eighteen than I will ever be.

Plus, I’m not his type. I’m not one of the bubbly cheerleaders who scream his name from the sidelines every Friday night, and I’m not one of the groupies following him from school to practice, watching as he sips his Gatorade. I’m just me—the girl who gets good grades, has a passion to design, and works part time at the diner to afford my car payments and art supplies.

“Breathe, Kinsley. We all have secrets, even you, but now you know my truth.”

“ARE YOU GOING to tell me why Rhett Taylor can’t seem to take his eyes off you for five seconds?” Becca asks, as she takes a bite of her double cheeseburger, so full of ketchup, it oozes out from under the bun. I don’t know how she can eat complete and total junk without ever gaining a pound.

“What?”

She rolls her eyes like I’m out of my mind. “I’m serious, Kin, he hasn’t stopped checking you out.”

“Maybe you’re the one he’s checking out. Ever think of that?”

I haven’t had a chance to tell her about photography class yet, so her comment catches me off guard. I’m still debating if I want to keep what happened between Rhett and me a secret, or not. Part of me wants to tell her, just to make it seem more real—like I wasn’t imagining him telling me I’m pretty or calling me an inspiration.

“Don’t play dumb, Kinsley. I heard all about his confession from Mandi. Once she found out, it was spread around the school in less than an hour. That’s got to be some kind of record, you know.”

This isn’t good. I don’t want to be the talk of the school. That’s how vicious rumors begin, and they never end well, either. “How did Mandi find out?” I ask, as I push the lettuce from my salad from one side of the plate to the other. I was hungry until this conversation started, but now my stomach is in too many knots to eat.

“Apparently, she was in the darkroom, and witnessed it.”

Mandi isn’t even in advanced photography, but she is taking the beginners class in the adjoining room. My guess, she was hoping to steal some time with Rhett and snuck in the darkroom. She’s had a thing for him for as long as I can remember. They even dated off and on, but each time, it didn’t last long—none of his relationships ever do. “I didn’t see her. I thought it was just the two of us in there.”

“Because you were too busy drooling over Rhett. I don’t know, Kinsley, I never thought I’d see the day you’d go jock on me.”

I smack Becca on the arm. “It wasn’t like that at all, Becca. We were just talking, not that there’s anything wrong with athletes, by the way.” I don’t mention I called them all assholes this morning before I knew one liked me.

She shakes her head in disagreement. “You’re so full of shit.”

“Come on, Becca. I have too many brain cells for him to be seriously interested. It would throw off the school ditz to muscle ratio or something. I can’t screw that up.” Then, just in case she doesn’t buy what I’m trying to sell her, I toss in some extra reassurance by adding rumor to the mix. “And last I heard, Mandi’s the one who’s crushing on Rhett again—not me.”

Becca waves her hand in the air, dismissing my claim entirely. “You’re talking nonsense. Rhett doesn’t care about Mandi or any of the other senior girl drama. He avoids it like the plague.”

“What makes you say that? Do you like him?”

“Pfft. No, not since we were ten.”

Why am I only finding out about this now when I’ve known Becca since middle school? I didn’t even know she knew Rhett that well. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, we used to be neighbors—before my parents split up and I moved across town. I had a crush on him, and he knew it. I wanted to be in his club so bad, I even let him make me eat dirt to get in.”

“You ate dirt for a boy’s attention?”

“Yeah, I’m not proud of it, but I did call him names for making me do it. His mom was hanging wash on the line and heard every single word I said to her darling little boy.”

“What happened?”

“She sent me home. I wasn’t allowed to play at their house anymore because I was a bad influence with a potty mouth. Her words, not mine.”

I laugh into my napkin. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

She takes a sip of her iced tea before continuing. “Trust me, Kinsley, he would never make you eat dirt. Not with the way he’s looking at you today. He might want to get you dirty though.”

“I’m not getting dirty with anyone, Becca.”

How she can draw these conclusions from a meaningless rumor she heard floating around school, is beyond me. Considering Mandi was the only witness, people should know better than to believe a word she says—even if there was truth to it this time.

Though I don’t have to worry about what she said one way or another, because when I glance in his direction and find him looking at me exactly the way Becca described, the suspicions are confirmed. If everyone didn’t already know, he’s proving every word Mandi said to be the truth. That fact alone makes my heart rate speed up—my palms even start to sweat. I try to look away, but not before I catch him winking at me.