The New Guy Read Online Free PDF Page B

seem at least partially accurate. But I’m not upset she’s here because this is the closest I’ve ever stood to a boy doing absolutely nothing, and I don’t know what would even happen next if we spend more time alone in this hallway.
    “Hey, Sadie,” Alex says.
    “Hi, Alex. Are you guys coming to lunch?”
    I leave my red notebook in my locker and slam it shut. “Where else would we be going?”
    “Anyone could be going anywhere,” she says, walking ahead of us en route to the cafeteria. “Life’s open like that.”
    “Don’t worry,” I say to Alex. “She says things like that all the time.”
    “I definitely wasn’t worried.”
    I still don’t know what to do. I just keep walking. Luckily once we’re in the cafeteria, he wants nachos again, and I’m getting my usual salad, so I have a chance to make a break from him. Sadie joins me, even though I’m pretty sure she’s not getting a salad.
    “Jules.”
    “I don’t know, okay? I don’t. That’s all I can say.”
    “That’s very little.”
    I don’t ask how Sadie figured things out with Justin, because Justin isn’t her first boyfriend, and also Sadie would never need help figuring things out with people. Sadie
is
people. I know I’m a person, but somehow it’s not the same.
    “Ugh, look how close I almost got to getting a salad!” Sadie ruffles my hair before dashing over to butt into line with Alex.
    I try to focus on getting the perfect blend of greens and protein, but it’s hard to keep my mind on salad when Alex exists. When I run it over in my head, it seems ridiculous—it felt like
a moment
, but also we were literally looking at a photo of my dogs. How many romantic moments are built around looking at pictures of dogs?
    And, fine, maybe it was a moment. It doesn’t change the other stuff, like that Alex Powell has been
famous
, kind of. And even if that weren’t true, I still don’t have time for any of this. I should have definitely brought my red notebook, but one moment with a dog photo and suddenly I’ve turned completely irresponsible.
    “Hey.
Hey.
”
    I look over to my right to see a girl glaring at me, and a whole line of people behind her.
    “Um, are you gonna look at garbanzo beans all day or are you gonna keep walking?”
    “Sorry,” I say. “They’re full of protein and fiber.”
    There are now a lot of glaring faces in the salad line, so I forgo any bean decisions and proceed immediately to the safety of the dressing bar.
    Everyone else is at the table by the time I get there, so I slide into the remaining seat between Sadie and Alex. Sadie’s in the midst of polling everyone about what they think the worst soda is. Since I’ve already answered this one many times (Mountain Dew), I ignore the conversation and dig my phone out of my bag to see if Mom or Darcy has messaged about anything. I drive straight from school to where I volunteer on Wednesday nights, so sometimes texting is the only way we can coordinate dinner.
    I do have a new message, and from only one minute ago. But it’s not from either one of my parents. It’s from a 734 number I don’t know.
    What are you doing tonight?
    I tell myself not to look over at Alex. But I look over at Alex. He pauses from nacho-eating and grins at me. I don’t know what to do with all the grinning.
    I stare back at the phone and type my answer with shaky hands.
    I volunteer at Stray Rescue on Wednesdays.
    Alex doesn’t have his sound off on his phone—breaking a pretty major school rule! Should I have gone over cell phoneprocedures in the liaison introduction yesterday? Whatever, the point is that Alex’s phone audibly receives a text, and everyone looks over, or at least it feels like everyone. It’s actually just Sadie and Em.
    But Alex just picks up his phone and starts typing back. Sadie smiles right at me, so I look away. My heart pounds in my neck, which is a weird place for my heart to suddenly be. And I realize I am not in the mood for my salad. And