I launch a pillow from my notebook-strewn bed at an annoying Mia. She dodges it from the other side of my room, nearly falling out of the chair she's stretched across. Her dark hair whips the span of her shoulders as they shake with laughter. "Your aim sucks."

"Shut it," I say. "I don't want to go."

We were halfway through Clueless when Mia clicked the space bar on my laptop and announced that she wanted to go to Dunkin' Donuts because, apparently, they're having this huge two-for-one promotion if you eat in, or something like that. And I'm as enthusiastic about the idea as I sound.

"Come on," she persists. "Please. You've been studying the entire week. You were studying before I showed up today. You're going to burn yourself out."

"Nope."

"Think about the donuts. The freakin' donuts, Martin! If I don't get coffee in two minutes, I'm gonna blow."

"We have coffee downstairs."

She scoffs. "Go to hell, it's gotta be Dunkin'."

"Yeah . . ." I pretend to think about it. "No."

"Come on," she nags. "You love me, right? You won't let me slowly descend into darkness because I can't get my caffeine fix. Right? Right?"

I raise a brow. "So this has nothing to do with your fear of missing out on that stupid promotion?"

"Oh come on," she says. "Don't act like you've never been a victim of blatant advertising schemes."

She hurls the notorious pillow back at me. And because I have the reflexes of an injured animal, it collides evenly with my face. I place the pillow behind me and offer Mia a sour look.

"Okay." I sigh. "Fine."

"Yes," she hisses. "Let's go, bitch!"

"But—" I stuff some money from my drawer into my phone cover. "We get the donuts and leave. I need to get back and start my history assignment. Plus, I want to squeeze some reading in."

She makes a face. "Isn't the history assignment due, like, next month?"

"There's nothing wrong with being prepared."

Don't be fooled. I have this nasty habit of starting assignments early but somehow still leaving 80 percent of the work for the night before, and Mia's well aware of this.

She rolls her eyes. "I literally hate you."

"Finally," I say, tightening the ribbon at the end of my French braid before I shove on a pair of Converse. "Something we both have in common."

When we arrive at Dunkin', I'm surprised at just how many people are victims of blatant advertising schemes. I recognize a few faces from Eastview, and Zach Chandler's signature yellow sports car can be seen from a mile away. Mia tenses beside me.

"Guess who's here," I tease her.

"Crap."

I start cracking up. "Well . . . this was nice. Let's head back, shall we?"

"We shall not." Mia shakes her head. "I came here for my coffee and donuts and you bet your tiny ass I'm gonna get 'em. So . . ." She glances at me. "I haven't exactly dressed up for this scenario,"—I raise a brow at her pretty floral dress—"but here's what we're gonna do. We are going to walk in there, and for Christ's sake, Wren, do not look at him."

"What do you mean 'don't look at him'?" I send her an incredulous look. "I'm not gonna look at him."

"Really," she says sarcastically, "because who else does a freakin' one eighty to look at someone like they've committed a felony, right after I say 'don't look'?"

I burst into laughter. "I don't do that!"

I do that.

She looks at me with a straight face and then continues. "We're going to walk in there, order, pick up, then grab a table on the other side of the room. As far away from—"

"He Who Must Not Be Named as possible." I nod, grinning. "Right. Sounds like a plan."

We enter, and Mia's doing way too much. Clearly, she hasn't mastered the art of invisibility as well as yours truly, because she literally lifts a hand to her face to block sunlight that just isn't there.

I gotta admit, it's pretty funny seeing Mia as the less confident one for once. But it's a lot less funny when I realize it's all because of a boy. In my humble opinion, boys are hardly ever worth your time. Or energy. Oh well. One peek won't hurt, right? I look up as discreetly as possible.

Sitting in the corner booth is the Pretty Boy Trio: Asher, Brody, and Zach.

I freeze.

This is a code red. In my dictionary, this is the reddest freakin' code red in the history of code reds. Because I failed to consider that since Zachary Chandler is here, the rest of the trio would be here too. Including Reed. As if he can hear my thoughts, he lifts his head from the opposite side of the café, and his eyes connect unerringly with mine.

All the air in my lungs is sucked out. It's like he's a lighthouse. Constantly exuding and radiating an effortless, confident energy from his spot in the corner. Dazed, I tear my gaze away from him and fumble to catch up with Mia, who's already in the process of ordering.

After a few minutes, we settle in at the table farthest away from the trio, and Mia starts going on about how she almost broke her phone but I can't focus. Somehow, my gaze shifts behind her.

Reed's face is settled into a frown and Zach has stopped stuffing donuts into his face. Brody just looks amused. Mia turns around to see what I'm staring at, and when she realizes, her eyes widen. "I thought I told you not to look!"

"I didn't look!"

I did.

It isn't long before we hear screeching chair sounds, and all three of the boys are seated at our tiny table. What the heck? I glance at Mia, whose eyes have widened considerably. Nevertheless, she manages a smile as her gaze settles on Zach. "Uh, hi."

"Hi." Zach offers her a grin. "Bea, right?"

"Mia, actually."

Zach's smile is blinding white. "Did it hurt when you fell from h—"

"Bro, shut the hell up," Brody says, proceeding to smack Zach upside his head. Zach responds by shoving Brody so hard that he nearly falls off his chair and on top of me. Now they're both grumbling and our table's attracting attention. I take in a slow breath.

Asher ignores the two as his eyes land on me. "Wren," he says, like he's testing the waters.

Suddenly, the other two stop fighting to look at me, and Mia joins them. I glare at Reed. I was hoping I'd come out of this situation unnoticed, but it seems like the universe enjoys sprinkling bad luck all over me.

"You two know each other?" Brody asks.

I'm quick to answer. "No."

Reed grins. "Yeah."

I shut my eyes and sigh. When I open them, Zach's brows are furrowed. "How?"

Reed's gaze slides languidly to his friend. "She's babysitting Ev."

"Ooh." Zach winks. "Good with kids, huh?"

Reed and Brody offer Zach blank, unimpressed stares but he just sits back in his chair and kicks back his long legs, his grin intact.

I shrug. "Uh . . . I guess?"

"You go to Eastview?" Brody asks, his gaze settling on me.

I know I said I like being invisible, but damn, I must've gotten really good at it. I've been in at least one of Brody Knight's classes since freshman year. But I can't really blame him, so I just settle with a clipped, "Yeah."

"Oh." Brody draws back a hand to rub the nape of his neck. "Haven't noticed you around."

I sip on my frozen chocolate drink, glancing at Mia, who's enamored by Zach's smile as he talks to her. She's clearly handling this well. Me? I'm feeling what Leo DiCaprio probably felt when he was slowly dying in Titanic.

"You don't like coffee?" Brody asks, eyeing the drink in my hand and snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Not really," I mumble. "It has a weird aftertaste."

Immediately, Zach faces me with a mischievous smile. "That's what she said."

Brody rolls his eyes with a grin tearing his lips apart. "You're sick, man."

Zach winks. "You know it."

Brody lets out a chuckle. I risk a glance at Reed, who's sporting a small smile. Up close, his features are striking. Strong bone structure, deep-blue eyes, and the faintest trail of freckles that stretch across the plane of his cheeks and nose, which is slightly sunburned from summer. His gold hair falls over his forehead, brushing his brows, and he has a tan that makes his skin glow. It's no wonder he has half of our school's population swooning.

His gaze flickers to me, and I look away a second too late. Way to go, Wren, you just fueled his ego, which is already the size of a small country.

"Take a picture." He winks. "It'll last longer."

"I would," I offer dryly, "but flash photography scares animals."

Brody chokes on his iced coffee before he starts laughing. Reed's composure cracks for a second, amusement glimmering in his eyes before he covers it up with a look that's predatory. He leans forward so his lips are just inches away from my ear.

"Careful," he whispers. "Animals bite."

His voice sends a shiver down my spine, and it's my turn to choke on my drink. Before moving away, though, Reed sneaks his fingers behind me and tugs the ribbon off the end of my braid. My hair comes apart slowly, loosening down my back. I narrow my eyes at my ribbon, now held captive between his fingers. He smirks, seeing that he's succeeded in his little game. I huff and take a sip from the remaining iced chocolate as I run a hand through my hair in an attempt to neaten it.

"Bro, tell 'em," Zach murmurs, giving Brody a slight shove.

Mia frowns. "Tell us what?"

"We're actually . . ." Brody pauses to give me a trapped look. "Not meant to be here."

I can't fight the grin that finds my lips. "Why not?"

I mean, it's just Dunkin' on a Wednesday afternoon. Nothing taboo about it. If you told me these boys were more dramatic than Mia, I wouldn't have believed you, but life throws you surprises every day.

Brody just sighs. "Ah, you don't get it, do you? We"—he gestures from himself to Zach and Asher—"have a game this Friday. And if Coach found out we made a trip to bum it out on donuts and milk shakes, he'd flay us alive."

I cast a look of disbelief Zach's way but he just shrugs as if to say "And that's the gospel truth." Brody stares at me like I'm supposed to be registering something I'm not.

"Oh," I say, realizing that it's my cue to swear to secrecy. "Well, my lips are sealed."

Brody grins, holding up a fist with only his pinkie finger extended. "Pinkie swear?"

"Um, yes," I murmur, calmly easing his hand down. Afterward, I feel guilty for not just completing the stupid freakin' pinkie swear, but it's not every day that a guy who looks like he fell off of a Teen Vogue cover actually talks to me, forget exchanging sacred oaths with me.

"You guys are coming to the game this Friday, right?" Zach asks, his eyes hopping between Mia and me.

Mia shrugs. "I'll go if Wren goes."

Brody glances my way, waiting for my response. I rack my brain for a good enough excuse, but in the end all I can come up with is a sullen, "No one invited me."

Reed holds back a smile. "You don't need an invitation."

There's a small pause where I chance eye contact with him. He meets my gaze right back, daring me to look away first. I don't, even when the blue in his eyes makes me feel like I'm drowning.

I avert my gaze, clearing my throat. "I'll see."

But anyone who uses the two-syllable phrase knows exactly what it means—I'm not going to that game.