"So," Charlie says as we head toward history, our first class of the day, "are you going to tell me what that was all about? Do you know that guy?"

I shrug, feeling the cryptic message through my jeans pocket. "Not really."

I don't want to tell her about yesterday. Charlie loves relationship drama, and she'll be unbearable if she thinks there's even the slightest chance it's true I've been supernaturally matched with someone other than James—especially if that someone else is hot enough for her to sprint across the school to spread news of his arrival.

She just looks at me expectantly.

"Nice dress," I say, attempting an innocent smile. The dress does look good on her; it's a flowing pastel-pink number that complements her dark skin.

She rolls her eyes but I can tell she is pleased; I'm sure she bought it especially for first day back at school.

"Don't change the subject! You haven't, like, made out with him or something, have you?" she asks sternly, but her eyes are twinkling.

I can't help but laugh. Make out with Cal? I don't think so! "No!" I say. "What were you and Laura talking about, anyway?" It's another attempt to change the subject, but this time it works. Her dark eyes brighten the way they always do when she has a bit of gossip.

"Apparently Jack—you know that guy from the debate team?— has been seriously crushing on her for the last few weeks," she says. "Like, out of nowhere. They've never hung out at all. But anyway, about this new mystery guy . . ."

As we approach the history classroom, I spot James through the window. He waves at us from a desk in the middle of the classroom.

"Leave it now," I say. "I don't want James getting the wrong idea."

"Fine," Charlie says. "But this is not over!"

James gestures at the two spare desks behind him and I smile as we make our way over. He stands up and gives me a light kiss on the lips, wrapping his arms around my waist, before I settle down at the desk.

"Hey, I've been thinking," he says. "It's been almost a year since we started dating. We should do something. Remember that time we went surfing at Venice Beach?"

Cal's words suddenly wash over me again. Your boyfriend is not your match. I shake it off. "Yeah. Sounds fun—even though you're terrible at it."

"Pfft. I only fell off because I didn't want to show you up with my mad skills."

"Fell off? Funny, I don't seem to remember you actually managing to get on the board!" I tease.

"You'll see! I'll make you eat your words, Lila Black!"

He grins then turns back to continue a conversation with one of his friends. Charlie leans toward me and gestures at Cal.

"Your lover boy is all over Chloe."

"Shh!" I hiss, but I follow her gaze. Cal is talking animatedly to one of the girls from the hockey team. This must be step one of his ingenious plan to distract Cupid.

I feel an unbidden stab of annoyance when I recall Cal's surprise that I could possibly be the match for the original cupid. Cal's been nothing but rude to me, but apparently Chloe's believable match material.

I'm uncertain why Cal's actions have bothered me. I don't want to be thought of as Cupid's Match—not by Cupid, not by Cal, not by anyone. Get a grip, Lila, I think, tearing my gaze away just in time to see the classroom door open.

My breath catches in my throat. The whole room goes quiet.

He's wearing a black leather jacket over a gray cotton T-shirt that clings to his hard stomach. He has an arm slung around Kelly, one of Charlie's friends from the party-planning committee, and she's laughing hysterically at something he's said. He is tall and broad, with dark-blond just-got-out-of-bed hair. His eyes glint with mischief.

The black-and-white photograph didn't even come close to capturing his beauty.

His gaze falls on me. A dangerous half smile curls onto his face and my stomach clenches. But then his gaze slides to Cal. An immediate flicker of recognition sparks in his eyes, but not surprise.

Cal's shoulders have tensed, his posture even more rigid now than it was when I first met him. They tense farther when Cupid's eyes move to Chloe.

Cupid grins wickedly, and I exhale, not even aware that I'd been holding my breath. Has Cal's plan worked? Does he think she's his Match?

Charlie leans over to my desk. "Told you he was hot! I heard he was expelled from his old school. Moved to Forever Falls halfway through summer and he's already dated half of our year."

"Sounds like an ass."

"A hot ass," she agrees seriously.

Cupid throws himself into a seat near the front and Kelly skips off to sit with her friends. I have to fight to keep from staring—my eyes feel helplessly drawn to him.

You're just curious because of what Cal's told you. You have a boyfriend, I remind myself. And Cupid's not your match, because there's no such thing as matching. The whole thing is ludicrous.

I pull out a notebook as Ms. Green walks into the room, high heels clicking against the linoleum.

"Welcome, class. Hope you all had a good summer and are ready to study this year." Her tone is pointed as she meets my eyes over her thick-rimmed spectacles. She had me for geography last year and became increasingly frustrated that I wasn't reaching my potential in what was once my favorite subject.

As she smooths her short, graying hair and sits behind her desk, Cupid glances over his shoulder to see who she looked at. The corner of his lip tugs up. I look resolutely down at my notebook as Ms. Green calls roll. She arches an eyebrow when she reaches Cal's name.

"Cal Smith. You're new?" she says.

"Yes, ma'am."

She inclines her head and looks back at her screen, continuing to reel off names in a monotone. Both her eyebrows lift above her spectacles when she calls Cupid's.

"Cupid? Cupid Bellator?"

"Here," he says, giving her a half wave before leaning back in his seat and stretching his legs out in front of him.

A number of people laugh, while James leans over and murmurs, "Is this guy for real?"

Unfortunately.

Ms. Green looks momentarily confused. "Very well . . . um, Cupid," she says. "Two new students joining us this year. How exciting. Well, class, I hope you will make them both feel very welcome."

When she's done, she smooths her pencil skirt and approaches the blackboard to write Classics and Ancient History across it.

"This semester we will be exploring the ancient world—the gods and goddesses, the wars, the art, and the people. To start, let's get inspired by our friend Cupid, here." She beams at him. "Can anyone tell me the name of the ancient Roman goddess of love?"

Charlie leans over to my desk again. "She's totally crushing on him."

I roll my eyes. "Gross."

"I've heard he's called Cupid because of his reputation with the ladies."

If only she knew the truth—well, the truth according to Cal, anyway.

"You said he got expelled from his old school?" I ask, wondering whether that was just a cover story. It must be; it seems unlikely that an age-old paranormal being would attend high school under normal circumstances. Charlie is about to respond when Ms. Green makes her standard "I'm annoyed at being interrupted" throat-clearing sound.

"I was going to ask for volunteers to act as mentors for our new students, to make sure they know where everything is," she says, staring at us. "But as you two are already such chatterboxes today, I don't need to. Charlie, you will look after Cal," she says, then turns to me.

Cupid swivels around to look me in the eye once more, clearly amused. I breathe in sharply. I already know what Ms. Green is going to say.

"Lila, you will be matched with Cupid."