“I've a lot of school work and I don't want to get behind. Have a good time.” And with that lie, I hurried from the house. When I stepped outside, I was surprised to see Shawn’s car in the driveway. He hopped out and walked toward me, reaching for my bag as he did.

“Morning Lark.”

“Hi. Thanks for the lift.”

He glanced behind me at my aunt’s house briefly as a look crossed over his face. “No problem at all.”

Poppy stuck her head out of the passenger side window. “Come on, let’s go. We have seven days together!”

Shawn held the back door open for me. “You’re going to wish me home after seven days.”

She turned serious at that. “Never.”

***

After homeroom I walked to English Lit and took my seat. Right before the bell rang, Bastian walked in. His eyes found mine and as soon as he did, his lips turned up slightly on the one side. Why didn’t he make an attempt to talk to me in school? I was curious enough about that to ask him, but he was never in one place long enough for me to approach him.

I dismissed his odd behavior and took a moment to appreciate the view. He wore a long-sleeved black shirt so his arms weren’t visible—a crime in my opinion—and his hair was pulled back into a ponytail, so nothing hindered the beauty of his face.

Throughout class my eyes lingered on his back. More specifically how the cotton of his shirt stretched tight over those magnificent muscles. At one point he turned his head, his blue/green eyes peering at me from over his shoulder. Busted!

After class Bastian left as soon as the bell sounded, and when I walked out into the hall, no surprise he wasn't there.

At lunchtime I sat with Poppy, our conversation centered around a party she wanted to attend. Parties really weren’t my thing, because I didn't like crowds nor did I enjoy shouting over the loud music and other voices just to be heard. But for Poppy, I'd go.

Bastian sat with the “populars” again and why that bothered me I couldn’t say. It did though, almost as much as the fact that Bastian could grin at me all day, but only talk to me via email. I wouldn't mind that so much, if not for the fact that he seemed to have no problem with talking in person to the likes of Kira.

Lunch had just started, but I wasn’t in the mood, so I stood. “I’m going to work on my painting. I'll catch you guys after school.”

“Okay, but Lark, you’re dressing up tonight for the party.”

“Ugh!” I was Poppy's life-sized Barbie. She had started this tradition when we were in middle school, around the same time I had adopted the color black as my signature color.

“‘Ugh’ all you want, but I’m getting my hands on you tonight and you're going to look amazing!”

“‘Amazing’ is stretching it a bit. I’ll see you later.”

“Amazing!” Poppy called after me.

***

Painting and sketching soothed me—I was always in a good mood when I left the art room. I made my way toward my locker when I heard my name being called in that deep voice. My knees went weak and my hands grew damp. Turning in his direction, I watched as he approached me in that easy stride of his.

“You weren't at lunch.”

My heart started to pound. He noticed. “Not today.”

He stopped just in front of me, and being that close to him was intoxicating. His chest dominated my view and the strongest urge to run my hands down that body nearly had me doing so. He reached for my hand, his smile turning a bit wicked. “We haven't officially met. I'm Bastian.”

His large hand completely enveloped mine and the heat that burned up my arm from the contact was delicious. “Lark.”

“It's nice to meet you, Lark.” I saw his mouth moving, but I didn't hear him since I was fixated on his hand still wrapped around mine.

“Are you going to tell me what you were laughing at in English?” He asked.

I heard that and responded with a resounding, “No.”

He'd taken my answer as a challenge. I saw it burning in his eyes, which he confirmed when he said, “I'll get it out of you, somehow.”

My body started to throb and suddenly I wanted the games to begin and hopefully his method to make me talk involved him putting his hands on me, everywhere.

He brushed his thumb over the knuckles of the hand he still held. “See you soon.”

I wish. He released my hand somewhat reluctantly, before he started away from me. Turning my head, I watched as he peered at me from over his shoulder and winked. Yep, I was totally crushing on Bastian Ross.

***

After school we drove to Poppy's house. I wanted to talk with her about Bastian, but she and Shawn were having a rather intense conversation, one that I politely tuned out. We entered the house and as soon as her mom saw me, she gave me a big hug. Her enthusiasm over me staying with them touched me. As I studied Poppy next to her mom, they looked almost like twins with the same build, petite and trim, and blond hair with several shades of gold laced throughout it. Poppy wore it long and one-length and her mom, a short bob that was cut just below her jaw. Their eyes, however, were the exact same shade of blue.

We chatted while she made dinner, and when Mr. Wright got home, we moved to the dining room. I loved the coziness of the room despite its size: hunter green painted walls, thick creamy white crown moldings, a gas fireplace trimmed in white featuring pictures of the family in assorted sterling silver frames. The huge Waterford crystal chandelier hung over the antique cherry dining room table that could comfortably seat twenty people in the ladder-back chairs. Potted plants, in brightly colored ceramic pots, were tucked in the corners, heavy brocade drapes framed the floor to ceiling windows and artwork, from oil landscapes to black and white sketches (several of which were mine), covered the walls.

While feasting on chicken scallopini, one of Dr. Wright's specialties, we all got caught up. I was always a bit conflicted during these family moments, because though I loved being thought of as one of the family, I wasn't really a member of theirs.

After dinner I helped clean up before Poppy and I went upstairs to get ready for the party. A text binged my phone while Poppy was in the shower; it was Bastian.

Lark, r u going to Damian’s 2 night?

Yes, r u?

Yes, if u r. See u there.

Suddenly, I was really looking forward to the evening. Poppy entered the room and rolled her eyes. “Lark, shower. I have work to do.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Once I showered, Poppy rolled my hair with curlers and dragged me to her closet.

“You are so not wearing black.”

“I like black.”

“Not tonight.”

“Bastian is going to be at the party.”

“Bastian?”

“He prefers being called that.”

Poppy stopped pushing hangers around in her closet and turned to look at me. “You've been holding out on me. How do you know he's going to the party?”

“He texted me to ask if I was going.”

Poppy immediately jumped onto the bed next to me. “How does he have your phone number?”

“He gave me his when he came into Alfonso’s the other night.” I held her glare, feeling a bit guilty for not sharing my news about Bastian sooner with her. “He gave me his email address too.”

“You’ve been secretly communicating with Bastian?”

“Yes.”

“So why don’t you guys talk in school?”

That was the main question, wasn’t it?

“I honestly don’t know, especially since he was the one to give me his phone number and email first. Although he did approach me after lunch today.”

“Details.”

“He basically just introduced himself.”

“And your emails, what do you guys talk about?”

“Not much, but he’s offered to take me to his friend for my tattoo.”

Her eyes sparkled as she lightly knocked her shoulder into mine. “That was nice of him to offer. What else does he have to say?”