Sara pointed her pencil at the letter D. "It's the function of f(x) = ln(x)." She dared not look at him again.

Bentley leaned towards her. "That's right."

Sara pushed her hair behind her shoulder. She could see his shoe was almost touching her converse sneakers.

"Do you want to try one of the problems on the board now?" he asked.

Sara took a deep breath. "Sure." For the next few minutes, she scribbled out the formulas. When she was finished, she handed him her paper.

She watched him from the corner of her eye.

The sun had found the curls around his forehead. It gave him a soft, warm glow.

"Nice work," he said. He handed the paper back.

Sara fidgeted. She felt the question bubble up inside her. She tried to hold it back.

"Can we forget about Saturday night?" Sara suddenly blurted out.

Bentley's face went rigid. "What do you mean?" he asked.

What do I mean? What do you THINK I mean? Sara wanted to scream.

She almost started to laugh again. "I mean," Sara said. "We should pretend Saturday never happened. I'm going out with Kurt now."

Okay. That was a low blow.

Bentley didn't seem fazed at all. "Why should I care?" he asked with a sneer.

"Um..." Sara said. Why was he so hard to read?

"I guess. Well. Because Ella is planning something for the four of us."

Bentley raised an eyebrow. "So?"

Before she could answer, a look of horror crossed his face. He seemed to understand. "Hold up. Is she expecting a double date?"

Sara bit her lip, nodding.

Bentley's eyes studied hers. His expression relaxed into a lopsided grin. "Could be fun? How are you at pole dancing? I like a good show --"

Sara gasped and swatted him. "Don't forget Kurt is going to be there!"

Bentley wrinkled his nose. "We can lock him in a closet."

Sara giggled. "Anyway. You've got it all wrong. No way am I like that!"

Bentley narrowed his eyes. "Did you mention that to Kurt?" His words sounded like a threat.

Sara twirled her pencil around in her hand. "I'm pretty sure Kurt understands," she said simply.

Bentley cocked his head to the side. "Well, your little escapade in Kurt's Porsche indicates otherwise." His eyes were fierce now.

Sara held his gaze. "Maybe people shouldn't be spying," she said.

"Well maybe you need to have better taste in guys!" he snarled.

Sara dropped her pencil on her desk. "So who do you have in mind?" she asked, smiling.

Bentley shrugged his massive shoulders. She could see a hint of a grin on his lips. "No one in particular. But...if you want to repeat Saturday night, remind me to bring my duct tape. Could be way nastier."

He was making fun of her now.

She scowled and hit him with her textbook.

"Mr. Prince! Miss Smith! What is going on over there?" Dr. Frost asked angrily.

Sara cringed and spun to face the teacher. "Uh, Bentley had a bug on his shoulder. It's gone now," she said. She hid her smile behind her hand.

Dr. Frost didn't seem to believe her. "Bentley. Are you all right?" she asked. As if I could HURT him! Sara thought.

Bentley grinned at Dr. Frost. "I'm fine. Sara's done with the assignment."

Dr. Frost held out her hand. Bentley snatched Sara's paper and carried it over to the teacher.

Dr. Frost skimmed it and frowned. "She did this herself, right?"

Bentley's grin widened. "She sure did."

The bell rang. Class was over.

Sara collected her things and stood up. "Thanks for helping me. By the way," she said as Bentley grabbed his notepad off the desk. "I'm supposed to tell you I'm going on the trip next weekend to Miami."

Bentley paused. "I know. I already took care of everything." He stared at her a bit longer than he should have.

"Bentley!" Ella called.

He gave Sara a brief nod, and walked away.