Eleanor couldn’t believe it when Wilson slid into the seat next to her in math and threw an arm around her shoulder.

“Finally, that idiot plant boy has left you alone,” he said.

For a moment, Eleanor’s shock froze her. She couldn’t think, couldn’t move.

Then, white-hot fury blazed through her. She stood, throwing off Wilson’s arm, and saying, as loudly as she could, “Get your hands off me, you creep. Do you think I don’t care what you did to my sister yesterday?”

“Eleanor Mackey!”

Eleanor glared at the oblivious young man who had been introducing them to the esoteric mental gymnastics of geometric proofs. “Right. I’m the shocking one here. Not Wilson Cartier, who you saw walk in here, box me in, and toss an...

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