Page 39 of Rebel Summer

“I didn’t know we could bargain for hours. Are there other things I can do to lessen my sentence? Should I demonstrate using a hammer, for five hours?”

“No more bargaining,” he said, turning away from me.

“Come on!” I pressed again. “Just a few things. To give me life. And to help you out.”

“You’re good at wasting time, I’ll give you that,” Dax mumbled. “And distracting me.”

A warm glow burned in my belly at the way he looked at me just then, an expression on his face so much like the old Dax I remembered in high school. I immediately braced myself.

“You want me to think of some things you can do in exchange for hours?” he asked.

The way he said the words some things brought a chill right to my bones.

I held my hands out in protest. “Nothing crazy. Fun. Or even just extra work that doesn’t involve me being stuck in that room for hours on end.”

“Fun…” He trailed off, rubbing his face.

“Why are you looking at me like it’s Christmas morning?”

“I might be starting to catch your vision, Books. You got yourself a deal.”

Biology Class

Day 12

“Books.”

I looked over to see Dax glaring at me. He had pulled out his seat but hadn’t sat down yet. I glanced at the chair he was indicating and saw the huge hairball I had grown and rolled myself sitting on the seat.

“Yes?”

“Is that yours?”

“It’s on your seat. Maybe it’s a present.”

He placed his hand on the desk, leaning in closer to me, and whispered, “You don’t want to play these kinds of games with me. I don’t lose.”

“I’m not scared of you.”

He stared at me for a long, dangerous moment before he leaned over and blew the hairball off his seat. His legs sprawled out in front of him as he sat down, his shoulder brushing against mine ever so lightly.

A wave of chills puckered my skin.

The bad kind. Not the good kind of chills.

He made the pretense of looking at Mr. Gray as he spoke to the class, even going so far as to fold his arms and look every bit like he was paying attention. Then his arm pressed against mine a fraction of an inch more.

I wasn’t going to move. That meant he would win. So we stayed like that, glued together until the end of class.

Mr. Gray was wrapping up when Dax looked over at me. I looked at him. His eyes swept lazily down our arms and back at me, leaving a trail of goosebumps flooding my skin.

Ah, crap.

That was the good kind.

“Let me think,” Dax began loudly as he leaned against the workbench. “What fun things could I make Ivy Brooks do that would be better than fixing my Lego car?”

I folded my arms, waiting for him to continue, a touch of unease growing in my belly. His tone didn’t sound like a man who was about to cater to my very specific whim. Dax didn’t cater to anybody.

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