Page 4 of The Perfect Catch

As much as I tried to stop it, my cheeks heated even more than after Ms. Shiels’s compliment, and pride surged within me. It wasn’t often I got compliments from my mom, but as overbearing as she was, she was getting better all the time. Her saying that made all the frustration to design the poster worth it.

“Thanks. I’m pretty proud of it. As for the dance, we’re meeting right after we hang posters to make some last decisions. Ms. Shiels wants everything planned out by the end of the period so we can be prepared for the dance next week.” I leaned against the railing that looked out over the commons area, the large section of carpet where most of the students sat for lunch or while waiting for school to start in the mornings.

My mother tilted her head to the side. “Any luck on asking someone to the dance yet? It’s girl’s choice, right?”

“No, I haven’t had time to even think about it.” That was half true. I’d thought about it a lot. I’d been asked to homecoming by Layne Ryan, who was super sweet and one of the guys I’d known since kindergarten, but there was something about it that made me not as excited as I usually was about dressing up and heading for a night out.

Masked Guy.

I had to be crazy to still be thinking about someone who’d kissed me six months ago. Even after a ton of secret research, I hadn’t been able to figure out who he was. They say people can’t recognize superheroes with masks on, and I kind of got it now. The only thing that had been visible was the guy’s mouth and his crazy dark-brown eyes. Obviously, he didn’t actually go to this school or I would have recognized him by now, right?

“I’ll ask someone this weekend. It’s not a formal dance, so it’s not like I need to make reservations or anything.”

She gave me a slight smile. “I saw Trent Jacobs in the hall earlier. He’s such a kind, polite kid.”

I frowned. Trent Jacobs was not the angel she thought him to be. “I think he got into a fight earlier, Mom.”

I watched as her face fell for a moment, and then she tossed her light-brown hair over her shoulder. “I’m sure it wasn’t his fault.” She glanced down at her watch and then back up at me with a sugary-sweet smile. “Remember, this is the best time of your life.” She took a few steps back and said, “I’ve got to run and pick up your brother for a doctor’s appointment. And make sure to get your math assignments done when you get home tonight. We’ve got to get that grade up if you want a chance at Stanford or Harvard next year.”

She hurried off, and I cringed, shaking my head. Karla Adams-Pikowske would do just about anything for her children, especially to support Zane and me, ever since my dad passed away eight years before. My stepdad was pretty chill, but sometimes I wished the two of them wouldn’t hover over us so much. I just needed some breathing room. And the chance to pick the college of my choice.

But I guess that would have to wait until the end of the year.

I walked into Ms. Shiels’s class and settled into my desk, pulling out a notebook from my backpack. I jotted down the notes from the board in small, neat penmanship, concentrating on what I could help with in the discussion.

“We should be good as far as the refreshments for the dance. We’ve gone over the decorations, but we still need a DJ. The one we booked will be out of town for some big event down south.” Ms. Shiels glanced over the room of about fifteen students, the pause meaning she was waiting for suggestions even though she hadn’t asked a question.

The door creaked open, and there stood Dax Stratton, a cute guy who played baseball with my friends’ boyfriends. I’d talked to him a couple of times, always in a group, and he seemed nice. A little awkward, but nice. For some reason, every time I came near him, his eyes got huge and he stiffened. Serena’s boyfriend, Ben, did the same thing with most girls, so I figured Dax had the same problem.

“Mr. Stratton. What brings you to Senior Committee?” Ms. Shiels asked, reaching out for the paper Dax handed her, her tone revealing the tiredness I could now see around her eyes. She read through whatever was written on the paper before turning to look at him, a confused expression on her face. “Mr. McKee sent you?”

Dax nodded, keeping his eyes focused on Ms. Shiels’s desk covered in art assignments from her various classes. “Yes. I’m supposed to be in this class for the rest of the year, I guess.”

Ms. Shiels frowned for a few seconds and then said, “Okay, then. Make yourself comfortable in one of the desks. We’re discussing the Harvest dance for a week from Saturday. You don’t, by chance, know of anyone who can DJ, do you?”

Dax shook his head and stepped toward one of the open desks on the front row. He sat down next to me, and a smell of cologne or aftershave reached my nose. He folded his arms and leaned back. “No, ma’am. I only know athletes.”

Of course he would be a little arrogant when it came to talking with a crowd. At least he’d added the ma’am in there. He’d been that way on a few occasions, acting like he was too good for the world, but when he turned in my direction, the same shocked expression and tenseness of his upper body made me have to stifle a laugh.

Ms. Shiels continued going over the items, and I glanced at Dax’s face from time to time, whose body was as stiff as a board—well, as much as was possible sitting in a desk.

I leaned over and whispered, “What got you sent here?”

Dax turned to me and sucked in a deep breath. “Um, I, uh, got in a fight earlier today.” His cheeks turned red past the dark stubble on his cheeks.

“The one with Trent Jacobs? That guy is a jerk. He probably deserved it.” I shouldn’t have been surprised as I’d heard Dax had been in another fight already this year.

All the times I’d spoken to him, I hadn’t realized how built he was in his upper body, not until I’d noticed him during the fight. I leaned over, using my thumb and forefinger to shift his chin toward me. The stubble tickled my skin, but a small tingle flowed through me as I glanced up at his face. A dark bruise had already formed on the side of his jaw. “That looks like it hurts.”

“It’s not too bad,” he said, without the arrogance this time. He lifted his hand to rub at it, barely brushing my fingers with his before dropping his hand like he’d touched fire.

This was a new punishment for Mr. McKee to dish out, but in this case, it might even be a good one. I’d heard about Dax’s struggles with his temper from Jake. But there was something there, something behind his eyes that told me his life was very different from mine and that a little slack would go a long way.

“Rough punishment, huh?”

Dax’s lips cracked a smile, and he whispered, “You’re telling me.”

We both turned and listened to Ms. Shiels, but every once in a while, I would glance over, more and more curious about Dax’s background. My mother’s question about who I would ask to the dance popped into my head, and I knew he was the one. My mother would be furious, with his less-than-crisp dress and arrogance, but it wasn’t like it was a formal dance. And hanging out with someone different than my norm might actually make the dance fun this time.