Page 89 of The Good Girl's Guide to Being Bad

“I said, go away,” he said louder this time.

“Listen, I know you’re mad,” I said to the closed door, feeling like a complete idiot, “and you have every right to be. But…that’s no reason to skip practice. I mean, it was kind of a jerk move, don’t you think? I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry, and I really wanted to do that to your face. So, could you please open the door?”

I waited a beat.

“Colton?”

Still no answer, no sounds of movement.

“Well, I am sorry,” I mumbled. “Jerk.”

I was about to leave when the door opened, and Colton stood there, leaning one shoulder against the door with his arms crossed.

“Did you just apologize and call me a jerk in the same breath?” he said. “Nice, Sadie. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

The first thing I noticed was he was wearing a sweater with pajama pants —which was strange since it was rather warm in the house. The second thing was that his nose was red. It was awful because neither of those things, not the dorky mismatched pajamas or the redness, made Colton look any less attractive. Argh.

“What are you apologizing for anyway?” he said.

“I got you in trouble,” I said. “With the fire alarm.”

Colton shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”

“But then why didn’t you come to the studio?” I asked. “I thought you were mad since I got you sent home.”

“Billy’s big mouth was the reason I got sent home,” he said, “and I’m not mad at you.”

“Is that why you’re always getting into fights? To defend Kyle?”

And me, I thought but didn’t say.

Colton shrugged. “Someone had to shut him and his stupid friends up. By the way, did you know pulling the fire alarm when there’s no fire is a federal offense?” Eyes widening, I gaped, and he laughed, though it sounded more raspy than usual. “Thought so, Little Miss Perfect. I guess you really are becoming a bad girl, huh?”

His eyes were bright, and I was about to tell him off for teasing me—I mean, it’s not like he had anything to worry about. He wasn’t the one who’d committed a federal-freaking-offense!—but Colton abruptly started coughing. And it wasn’t just any cough. You know the cough you get when your throat is tight and swollen? The one that hurts? Yeah, it sounded like that, and I finally got why his nose was so red.

“You’re sick?” I asked. “Is that why you weren’t at practice?”

“Ding, ding, ding,” he said, voice thick with sarcasm even as he swayed unsteadily. “Thank you, Captain Obvious, for your keen observational skills. Now Sadie, please leave me alone.”

As his body was wracked by another bout of coughing, I did the exact opposite. Getting underneath his arm, I led him carefully over to his bed.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Helping you,” I said.

“Why?”

“Because as Betty would say, you look like death warmed over.” As he grumbled, collapsing onto his navy blue sheets, I frowned and put my hands on my hips. “Actually, this reminds me of when I had the flu last year. Where’s your mom? Did she see you like this?”

“Yeah.”

“And she didn’t stay home?”

He mumbled, and though half his face was turned into the pillow, I got the gist. “Hospital. Said she had to go because two other nurses called in sick.”

I sighed. Mrs. Bishop was a nurse, an awesome one, too. But here was her son, and if I was any judge, he had one heck of a fever. And she’d just left him here to fend for himself?

Shaking my head, I placed my hand against his forehead.

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