STOP CHECKING YOUR phone, Hilarie scolded herself as she sat at one of Edith Wharton’s patio tables. Both Jessica and she preferred the peace and quiet of the school’s outdoor eating space over the noise of the cafeteria—even if flies were all too prone to buzz around their food. Why did she care if he had messaged her yet (he hadn’t)? Was she becoming obsessed with him? Yeah, he was a good kisser, but he wasn’t that good. Sure, he made her forget that the world even existed but so did chloroform.
Still, she remembered what he had said to her at the end of Calculus:
“See you at lunch.”
Where was he? Not that she cared—well, not that she cared much.
She frowned at her tiny cup of yogurt, which was all she could afford for lunch. The food here was to die for—steaming silver plates full
