"Evil?" she asked, her lips testing the word. She suppressed a giggle that surfaced at her mouth. "There's no way you're evil." His dark eyes softened at the sound of the humor in her voice. He ran his fingers through his hair, pushed a few strands away from his face and let his eyes fall on her lips. She was...
What do a badass pianist, a seemingly talentless party girl, a quiet genius, and an immature guitar player have in common? Not a damn thing. Welcome to the Ursula P. Bradley Institution for the Gifted, a school for the prodigal minds of today's generation. If you think our future Fortune 500 CEOs, Albert Einsteins, Be...