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come out as an angry shout and not an embarrassed whisper.
    “Grace, he didn’t mean it like that.”
    I couldn’t believe Cynthia was defending Ethan. It made me feel the need to explain myself again. “I was so creeped out that I made the mistake of telling my dad about him. It sent his goons into crisis mode. You were there,” I said, frowning at Ethan. “They practically put the whole hospital on lockdown. Now my dad’s forcing me to get my own security detail. They’re interviewing people all afternoon.”
    “Your dad’s hiring you a bodyguard?” Ethan asked.
    I slumped back into my chair. “You don’t have to sound quite so excited.”

I never realized how many classes I had with Ethan until he helped me get my gimpy self from first period to second period and then from second to third. He was carrying all my books and still managed to catch me when I fell. But at least this time tripping wasn’t my fault, because some kid had kicked my crutch out from under me. I thought Ethan was going to murder him, and I’m pretty sure so did the guy.
    “It’s a good thing we have every class together,” he said after he made the boy who’d tripped me apologize and sent him on his way. “I don’t think you’d survive the day without help. How long do you have to be on crutches?”
    I ignored the dig and just said, “Six weeks.”
    “Is that why you’re so down today? Or are you upset about Andrew? What exactly happened with him, anyway?”
    It was the first time he’d brought up Andrew since my conversation with Cynthia—who I wished were here now to deflect Ethan’s attention. I would have rather told Ethan I was in love with him than talked with him about Andrew. Instead of answering his question, I asked, “Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”
    I’d meant to make him uncomfortable because of the way he was torturing me, but I didn’t know my question would piss him off so much. It took him a minute before he could respond. “Why? Obviously you’re not worried I’m in love with you .”
    Actually, I was leaning more toward an in-the-closet theory. “No. I was just curious because it doesn’t make sense for you to be single when you could probably have any girl in this school.”
    Ethan’s good mood was back for a split second as he glanced down the hallway at all the girls we were passing. Most of them were smiling at him and scowling at me. But then he looked at me again and his smile vanished. “Except you,” he said.
    “Except me what?”
    “You’re right. I could have any girl in this school. Any girl except you.”
    Astonished by the anger in his voice, I asked, “Am I supposed to feel bad about that? I’m sorry, Ethan. It’s not like I can help it. I just don’t like you like that.” Or at all, really. “I don’t understand why it bothers you. You don’t like me, either, so why should you care what I think?”
    Ethan stopped in the doorway of our third-hour class and whirled on me. “You are impossible!”
    He shoved my books at me so hard I dropped my crutches and stumbled backward. The person coming in the door behind me yelled, “Watch it, Disgrace!” and shoved me hard enough forward that I fell on my face. The entire class laughed and people stepped over me on the way to their seats, knocking me back down if I tried to stand up, until Cynthia showed up and helped me to my feet.
    I learned a long time ago that crying only makes things worse, but as I plopped down in my seat and felt Ethan’s hateful glare from across the room, that was the closest I’d come to it in years. Cynthia tried to talk to me, but I just shooed her away to her own seat and thanked my lucky stars when the teacher walked in the room and turned out the lights. A nice, long, boring video would help me get control of myself before I had to deal with lunch and Cynthia’s questions.
    “I have a surprise for you today,” our teacher, Mrs. Wilson, said cheerfully. “Since I know you all missed