Page 52 of Wylder and the Almost Rockstar
Wylder gripped her fork, shoveling her breakfast in. It had lost its appeal. Logan needed a break, and she knew just what to do.
“Let’s get out of here.” Devyn scooted her chair back. “I’m not going to sit here and listen to people cracking jokes about our friends.”
“Thanks, Dev,” Logan said. “But it’s okay, really. I can take it.”
“This will blow over, bro.” Killian lifted his tray. “They’ll have something new to focus on soon.”
“I know.” Logan sighed. “Let’s hope they come up with a better rhyme soon. I’m getting a little sick of Cook is a crook already.”
“They can’t all be brilliant songwriters.” Wylder grabbed her tray and followed the others out of the dining hall to the boos and whispered remarks of their fellow students.
Killian and Diego headed off across campus, and Devyn dragged Will off, leaving Wylder to sneak looks at Logan, wondering what he was thinking about.
Did the kiss not register on his radar this morning? Was he just focused on school drama?
She chanced another glance at him and caught his smirk. Was he being smug about it? Knowing it was their kiss that had kept her up all night?
“Er … see you in class later.” She started to turn back toward the dorms. She still needed a shower, and she had just enough time to get back and change before first period.
“Sure, later.”
She scowled at his retreating figure. How dare he sleep like a baby and then ignore the best kiss she'd ever had like it didn’t even matter?
“Oh, wait.” Logan turned back to her with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I almost forgot.” He leaned down and kissed her, his lips warm and soft against hers as he pulled her closer, his hands resting at her back.
Man, he smelled good. Her heart jackhammered in her chest.
“Later.” He winked and walked away without another word.
A smile slid across Wylder’s face, and she turned back toward the dorms, not caring that she was totally going to miss her first class. She had some scheming to do.
* * *
Wylder’s boots tapped against the floor outside the headmistress’s office. “Is she back yet?” Wylder asked the school secretary.
“Do you think she can apparate?” Mrs. McDougal didn’t look up from her paperwork.
“I suppose not.” Wylder sighed.
“Like I said, you should go to class and come back this afternoon when she’s actually here.”
“I’ll wait. This is important.” Wylder folded her arms to keep from chewing on her thumbnails. Her chunky knit cardigan fell off her shoulder.
Ms. Jones swept into the room, and Wylder shot out of her chair, tugging her sweater back onto her shoulder.
“Miss Anderson, shouldn’t you be in class?” She marched across the room to her office.
“Yes ma’am.” Wylder followed her, pulling at the waist of her skinny jeans. “I needed to talk to you about something.”
“How is Logan doing today? I heard about the game a few nights ago, and breakfast this morning.” Ms. Jones dropped her mail onto her desk and looked up. “What are you wearing?” She stared at Wylder.
Wylder glanced down at her dark skinny jeans, boots, black tank, and gray sweater. “Clothes.” She squirmed uncomfortably.
“You look nice.”
“Er… thanks?”
“You normally look like you’ve just rolled out of bed. This is a nice change. Is that lip-gloss?”
