There was another gift in his locker on Monday morning.
Anton stared blankly at it for a long minute, until Emma twigged he wasn’t listening to her plans for a fundraising event, and complained. So he took it out of the locker and showed her.
“Aw, that’s sweet!” she enthused, taking the tiny box and turning it over. It was wrapped in blue paper this time, with little white snowflakes. “I didn’t know Jude could do sweet.”
“They’re not from Jude,” Anton said awkwardly, taking the little box back. If it was Bee, he was going to have to say something—especially now Jude knew about him, and hadn’t run a mile. He was proper taken now, not in that weird sort-of-maybe-until-he-figures-it-out-and-dumps-me territory.
“What, you have an admirer?” Emma asked as Anton carefully unwrapped the box. I
