Mr. Mulcahy was tapping the clipboard in his hand, deep in conversation with Johnny—whose attention was flickering between whatever was on that clipboard and, well, me. I was exactly opposite him, with the court between us, but I swear I could feel the heat of his stare right down to my toes. Every time he switched his attention from the clipboard to me, I was hit with a gaze so heated and full of intensity that I couldn’t figure out what I was seeing.
