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she jumped into the passenger seat of Oliver’s black Jeep Grand Cherokee.
    â€œWhat happened?” Oliver asked as he peeled out of the driveway.
    â€œMy alarm clock didn’t go off. I swear I set it for 7:05, but I think it must’ve been p.m. instead of a.m., ’cause I was using it to sleep late over winter break . . .”
    â€œThat is far too much information.”
    â€œYou asked what happened.”
    â€œYeah, but I don’t really care,” Oliver said, which was the type of statement that contributed to his reputation for being an asshole. “I swear, I’m just going to start leaving without you.”
    Even when Oliver said ugly things like that, he was still really nice to look at. Today, he wore his red and black varsity basketball jersey over a white T-shirt. He was the starting shooting guard and the top scorer on the team, and yet somehow he managed to be even cockier off the court than he was on it.
    â€œYou are not gonna leave me. You’ve been saying that all year.”
    â€œâ€™Cause you’ve been late all year,” Oliver said, rolling his eyes.
    â€œWe both know this ten minute drive is the best part of your entire day.”
    â€œPlease, don’t flatter yourself,” Oliver jabbed back. “Aren’t there enough boys at school who will do that for you?”
    Now it was Alex’s turn to roll her eyes. She was used to getting compliments, but she didn’t care too much about them. They were mostly about the way she looked, and the infuriating truth was that she didn’t actually do anything to look this way. She woke up like this. Literally. Four and a half minutes ago, she had still been in bed. Alex wasn’t complaining—she liked the way she looked—but she cared way more about what her track performance looked like than what she looked like. Sometimes it seemed like she was the only one who felt that way.
    Alex put her foot up on the glove compartment so she could pull on her sneaker, a black New Balance running shoe. Then she reached for the second one, realizing it was a bright pink Nike cross-trainer instead of a match black one.
    â€œOh damn.”
    â€œWe don’t have time to go back,” Oliver said, noticing the mismatch.
    â€œUgh. I know,” Alex said as she pulled on the pink shoe. “Whatever. I’ll make it work.”
    â€œKnowing you,” Oliver smirked, “you’ll probably start a new schoolwide fashion trend.”
    â€œI don’t think anyone’s paying much attention to my shoes.”
    â€œI’m paying attention,” Oliver said without missing a beat. “To everything.”
    It was statements like that one that managed to counter­balance Oliver’s reputation for being an asshole—and made him so crushable. If Oliver thought Alex got a lot of compliments, he should hear the way girls talked about him in the locker room. But Alex wasn’t going to tell him that. Oliver had more than enough of an ego already, which was a shame, because if it weren’t for that, Alex might have had an actual crush on him. She would’ve been lying if she said she wasn’t attracted to him, but that was more or less unavoidable, considering the way he looked and carried himself, all confidence and charm. All year, their morning car rides had been overflowing with sexual tension.
    Alex glanced up at the rearview mirror and caught him staring at her. Most boys would’ve been flustered and looked away quickly, but not Oliver. He kept staring, owning the moment. He had no fear.
    Alex didn’t have any fear either, but she wasn’t interested in being pulled in any farther. Oliver had already succeeded in providing her with a fresh set of goose bumps.
    Like it or not, they were completely out of her control.
    Â Â *  *  *  
    EMMA could not stop taking pictures of Nick . . . and his lips.
    She’d taken