“Yeah, right,” he says. I’m holding my breath praying that he’s joking or something, “A hottie like you.” I let out a sigh of relief and smile.

I show him where the cafeteria , gym and most of his classes are during the span of those 45 minutes. The bell rings and he should head for his second period, so I walk him there just to be nice. Freaks me out too.

“When’s your lunch?” he asks on our way to his class.

“Same as yours.”

“Great, so then I can sit with you guys?”

“Sure?” I say. I ask it like a question, but he seems to shrug it off. Seems familiar enough.

“Thanks for helping me out,” he says. I give him a weird look for the random thank-you, but remember to be nice.

“You’re welcome,” I say plainly. Showing too much emotion may cause him to wonder if I’m acting and if I’m too mean, I may come off as the girl he knew from the club.

“Welcome enough to hang with you?”

“That didn’t make any sense,” Oops. Mean.

“I’m asking to hang out. Wanna?”

Bad idea, Stacie! Bad idea!

“Sure, um, why not?”