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brief stop at the restaurant to go over some paperwork, then her girls’ night in with Kamille . . .
    Eduardo was staring at her with his really adorable dark brown eyes. Why the hell not? Kass thought, and was about to say yes to the coffee when she changed her mind. Again.
    “I’d love to, but I have like a million things to do,” she said finally.
    “No problem. Maybe another time. See you in class on Monday.” He smiled and walked away.
    As Kass watched him go, she felt a pang of regret. But the feeling was temporary. A second later, she was already thinking about those globalization books.

Chapter Six
    Kat
    “S o I just wanted to express that we here at Wesley Eastman Academy continue to be concerned about Kyle,” Mr. Leibowitz said gravely. “We’re barely into this academic year, and it already promises to be a repeat of last year.”
    Kat leaned back in the incredibly stiff, uncomfortable leather chair—it was probably some priceless antique, judging from the rest of the decor in the headmaster’s office as well as the exorbitant tuition the school charged—and turned to Beau with a frown. He reached over and squeezed her hand reassuringly. But she could tell that he was just as worried as she was, inside.
    And was the room insanely overheated? Or was it her? Kat picked up a copy of the latest Wesley Eastman newsletter and began fanning herself. She wondered if it might be hot flashes. Great. So she had menopause and aging and all that crap to deal with on top of everything else . . .
    “All of her teachers say that she is an exceptionally bright, talented, very creative young woman who simply fails to apply herself,” Mr. Leibowitz went on. “If she chose to, she could be a straight-A student here. But in this first week alone, she skipped class twice, she failed to turn in any of her homework . . . and she did this .” He slid a sheet of paper across the desk. “It’s a precalculus quiz. Or it was supposed to be, anyway.”
    Kat leaned forward, and so did Beau. On the piece of paper were a dozen equations that might as well have been in Martian, they were that foreign to Kat. (Math had never been her strong suit in school.) But Kyle hadn’t bothered solving any of them. Instead of answers in the blank lines, there were hand-scribbled pictures of two dogs: running, eating, sleeping, playing, and . . .
    Kat squinted. And gasped. Oh my God, were they having sex ?
    Beau dug around in his pocket for his reading glasses. “Are those dogs, honey? Hey, maybe she was drawing Coco and Chanel.” He smiled at Mr. Leibowitz. “We have these two min pins at home. Miniature pinschers. Are you familiar with the breed? Real friendly, and real good with kids. Well, most of the time, as long as they’re not—”
    “Beau!” Kat stabbed her finger at the picture. “I don’t think that’s Coco and Chanel. At least I hope not! I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with two females having . . . that is . . .” She blushed and willed herself to stop speaking immediately.
    “What, darlin’? Oh! ” Beau peered through his glasses at the humping dogs. “O- kay. Whoa! Not sure what to say about that one. Mr. Leibowitz, we apologize for our daughter. Believe me, we’ll have a frank talking-to with her as soon as we get home.”
    “Yes, well. That would be a good idea. Perhaps if you could redirect her focus to her academics in a positive way, she would benefit from her sense of achievement and stop feeling the need to . . . act out, shall we say?”
    “You mean, if she started trying harder in her classes and getting good grades, she would feel better about herself and stop being such a royal pain in the . . . you know?” Kat said tactfully.
    “Exactly.”
    After the meeting was over—they thanked Mr. Leibowitz for his time and promised him they would “take decisive measures”—Kat and Beau headed outside and sat down on a bench in the courtyard. The school was picture-postcard