“You don’t have to do all of that.” “I want to.” He spears a handful of fingers into his hair and leans back against the top step, hesitating as if deciding whether or not to tell me something. “My aunt, Allie…she is the guidance counselor.” Understanding dawns slowly. The answer to a question that has been plaguing me for years. “Your aunt. That’s how you got into all of my classes?” He winces slightly. “To be fair, she didn’t know I was…stalking you. She thought it was a crush. And I was bribing her with some serious ammunition. The woman has never been able to turn down a Snickers—and I
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