Dragonfly

Chapter 4

The tardy bell sounded as I ran through the door and slid into my seat in English class. I didn’t look to either side, but I could feel his eyes on me, and it made my stomach clench.

“That sound means you’re late, Miss Sanders.” Our teacher fixed her dark eyes on me. I gave her a pleading face, and to my surprise she softened. “I’ll let this be your only warning.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, focusing on my book as she started the discussion.

She lectured right up to the bell, and as everyone was packing to leave, I saw Julian making his way through the bodies toward me. Sexy as ever, in black jeans with his shirttail out and sleeves rolled, everything about him should provoke a reaction in me, but something different was going on today. I was still thinking about the strange curtain I’d peeked behind last night, and despite it all, I wanted to know more. I wanted to be invited back.

“My patron saint of the arts,” Julian smiled, sitting on my desk. “I’ve been looking for you all day.”

“You’re out of luck, Julian, I’m broke. Try Rachel or Brad.”

“You can help me in more ways than money.” He grinned, taking my hand.

I straightened. “What do you mean?”

“Go to the dance with me Friday. I’m dateless, and how would that look for your news story? It’d kill my image.”

“It wouldn’t kill anything but your pride,” I slid my hand out of his. “And I don’t know about Friday.”

My voice trailed off as I glanced to the left, catching Jack’s eye. He quickly turned back to digging in his backpack.

 “You have to go with me,” Julian insisted, standing. “You’re my angel.”

“Julian.” I wanted to cut off his flirty rant. Jack would not understand it was just our usual banter.

But Julian moved in close, closer than he ever had. “Wear something sexy. I’ll pick you up at seven.” And out of nowhere, he leaned forward and kissed me.

Everything stopped. Julian’s lips were touching mine. It wasn’t a long kiss or French, but it was warm and soft. And it scrambled my brain.

“Julian!” I whispered, stunned.

His eyebrows went up and down, and his grin was classic Julian show-stopper. “You like? That was a little teaser.”

I was still trying to remember what I’d been thinking when I saw my civics book on my desk. Jack was gone, and the next class was arriving. I was going to be late, and it appeared my fairytale dreams with him were over. But of course they were. He’d flat out said we shouldn’t start anything, and his dad didn’t like me.

“So we’re on?” Julian said, backing up.  

I blinked back to him. “Sure.”

“Awesome.” He smiled and disappeared as fast as he’d arrived, leaving me to sort out what just happened, and whether I was sad or thrilled.

Julian was far from sloppy seconds. I should be thrilled, but my brow lined. What was up with Julian? Was this about the feature? Could it honestly be more? Could I honestly find out without looking like a total idiot?

* * *

Lucy didn’t seem to know anything about what had happened at her house last night, which further reinforced my suspicion that my five-second flirt with dating her super-hot brother was over. But she did know about last period.

“So you’re going to the dance with Julian LaSalle?” She eyed me curiously.

“Yeah. I’m doing a feature on his art for the newsblog. It’s just research.” I hadn’t thought about the ethics of dating my subjects. Much.

“Sounds like a fun field,” she winked. “Didn’t he make the dolphin in the quad?”

I nodded. Last year Julian had designed a patchwork dolphin made up of discarded pieces of driftwood, copper, and metal roofing, and it turned out so well, the principal had it planted on the school grounds.

“He’s really talented,” I said. “His current project is a sculpture of a runner made from different pieces of junk. Like the head is a motorcycle tire and the arms and legs are metal tubing and stuff. It sounds weird, but it looks cool. He sent me some pictures.”

She took my phone and slid her finger across the slideshow of Julian’s art. “He does all this at school?”

“And his house. His mom basically gave him their garage for his workshop.”

We were quiet as Mrs. Womack passed down the row returning graded projects.

“Are you going Friday?” I hoped she might tell me Jack’s plans.

“Not sure,” she whispered. “I don’t really know a lot of guys here yet.”

“Oh, well, it’s just a silly dance.” I didn’t want her to feel bad—most guys at our school were probably too intimidated to ask Lucy on a date. And after meeting her dad, I wasn’t sure they were wrong to feel that way. “I doubt I’d be going if Julian hadn’t asked me.”

 “We got an A on our project.” She smiled and turned back to her books.