“She wants to know if we’re secretly dating. And she wants to know how you feel about me,” he finally said. “Yikes. What should I say?” I tried to keep my expression very innocent. People were passing us on their way to class, probably staring, but I was barely aware of them. “Hmmm.” He paused to catch a stray lock of hair that was escaping the twist on my neck and wound it back into place. My heart spluttered hyperactively. “I suppose you could say yes to the first . . . if you don’t mind—it’s easier than any other explanation.”
ooop!
