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“Does she have brown eyes?” I ask.
“Shh,” she says.
“Does she?” I ask, leaning closer.
“Yes,” Margo says.
We move on to the next question, but my attention couldn’t be further from grading her test. “Have I met her?”
“You’re going to get us in trouble,” she whispers.
“Have I?”
“Yes.”
Mrs. Wilkson clears her throat. “Margo, Daniel, do you have something you’d like to share with the rest of class?”
“Sorry,” Margo says, sitting up straighter. Then she gives me a fiery glare.
I like it.
Mrs. Wilkson continues sharing the last few answers.Then she walks around the room gathering the papers. Margo sneaks a look at her score before Mrs. Wilkson takes it. She scored a ninety-two.
I scored eighty-five.
We both hand in the quizzes. Mrs. Wilkson smiles when she sees mine. “Good job, Daniel.”
Margo shakes her head as our teacher walks away. “How in the world did you score so high?”
I shrug. “It wasn’t hard.”
She scrunches up her nose, clearly not entertained by my reply.
“Does she go to school here?” I ask, back to my interrogation.
She clicks her tongue and tilts her head toward me. “What’s with you today?”
I shrug. “Just curious.”
Her eyes search me, trying to figure out if I have some other motive. “Yes. She does.”
“And—”
“I’m not going to play twenty questions with you. If you want to meet her, then you can.”
My heart stops, zapping back to life a moment later. “What about your plan?”
She sighs. “Plans change. But,” she leans a little closer, and waves her finger at me. “You better not mess this up. This is important to me, and this girl really likes you, okay?”
“If she likes me so much, why doesn’t she just tell me?”
“It’s complicated,” Margo says.
“Why?”
“You’ll think it’s silly.”
“I won’t.” Margo might find it hard to believe, but nomatter what she says at this point, I won’t think it’s silly. I want to know why Margo won’t just come out and say it.
