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weren’t exactly a lot of exciting lunchtime options at Plymouth East—but she had already turned back to Brian.
    I threw out my trash and headed out the door to the mostly empty halls. We were allowed to make brief trips to our lockers during lunchtime, but we got in trouble for hanging around too long, so I figured I’d just switch out my morning books for my afternoon ones and go outside. It was overcast, but it hadn’t rained yet, and there was a bench under the big oak tree near the senior parking where I sat when I didn’t feel like sitting with Romeo and Juliet in the cafeteria.
    I had just opened my locker and was digging around in the back, trying to find my compact mirror, when a deep voice coming from the other side of my locker door startled me.
    “Hey.”
    I swung the door closed and found myself face to face with Sam. He was leaning casually against the lockers, his hands jammed in his pockets. I blinked at him, then dropped the English textbook I was holding. It bounced off my backpack and hit me in the calf. I winced.
    “Problem?” Sam asked, glancing down at the textbook and then back at me.
    “No,” I said quickly.
    Sam studied me and then smiled, the corners of his mouth creeping slowly upward like a stream of syrup spreading across a pancake. “You sure?” he asked.
    “Positive.” I felt a little short of breath.
    He bent down and picked up my backpack and my textbook in one smooth motion. “Here,” he said, handing them to me. “You might need these.”
    “Thanks.” I stared at my feet, willing my face to stop flaming. What was wrong with me? I was reliable, mature Lacey Mann, who could be trusted to behave like a grown-up in any situation. And here I was acting like, well, Sydney.
    “So.” Sam put his hands back in his pockets. His warm green eyes met mine. “What are you doing out here in the hallway? Shouldn’t you be eating with that friend of yours in the cafeteria? Jennica?”
    “It’s no big deal,” I said. “She’s with her boyfriend. I just felt like walking around.”
    “Guess you don’t want to watch her and her boyfriend all over each other,” he said.
    I looked up sharply. “What? No. That’s not it.”
    Sam looked like he didn’t believe me. “It would bother me.”
    I paused. “Okay,” I admitted. “Maybe it bothers me a little.” I cleared my throat, suddenly desperate to change the subject. “So, um, your old school,” I said. “Where is it? I mean, where did you come from?”
    “Taunton.”
    “Oh,” I said. “I’ve been there.” It was about thirty minutes away.
    “Oh yeah?”
    I nodded. “My brother Logan played in a baseball tournament there a few years ago.” Back when he still played baseball , I added silently. Back when things were normal .
    “Cool,” Sam said. “I used to play ball. Maybe I played against him. Are you a baseball fan?”
    “Definitely.”
    “Sox?” he asked.
    I nodded again. “My dad always takes my brothers and me to Fenway a few times each summer.” Then I stopped abruptly, the words caught in my throat as I realized what I’d just said.
    “Cool,” Sam said, oblivious. “I haven’t met a lot of girls who like baseball. Did you guys make it to a lot of games this year?”
    I swallowed hard. “No,” I said without elaborating.
    Sam seemed to register that something was off. He un-slouched from the locker and drew himself up to his full height. He was taller than I had realized.
    “You okay?” he asked.
    “Fine,” I said.
    “Okay,” Sam said uncertainly. He gave me a half smile. “I’ll see you in class then, cool?” He turned and walked away.
    •  •  •

    The rest of the week sped by, the way the weeks in the fall always did, when your new grade and new classes still felt fresh and exciting. Sam had begun smiling at me in class now and saying hi in the halls like we were friends. I always smiled back and then looked quickly away, as if locking eyes with him would be a dead giveaway