Nothing out of the ordinary.

But just as I reach my own locker, a loud guffaw makes me turn to search for its source.

It's Shaun, apparently the chief of a small tribe of geeks. When I draw my glare even with his eyes, **

he turns his back to me, lowers his voice, and says something to his not-so-braves that makes **

them all laugh out loud.

Something inside me snaps, almost audibly. I slam **

my locker, take dead aim at the geeklets' chieftain. Straight up in his face, "Something funny?"

253.

His eyes dart back and forth among his stick figure friends.

But no one comes to the rescue.

Uh. No. Not really.

Then he tries to draw strength from numbers.

We were just talking about girls **

and what they do for attention.

He pulls himself up as tall as he possibly can.

What do you do?

If his buddies think about laughing, the look on my face must make them think twice.

Ice-cold anger pulses in my veins.

I can feel it in my temples. And something else, too. Something **

brand-new. "Anything I do is no business of yours, you little shit.

But if you want my attention, **

here it is." That something new-- courage--brings my palms flat against his shoulders. Hard.

254.

Hard Enough To make him stumble backward, bump his head against a post.

I'll probably get in real trouble for this, but at the moment I couldn't care less. "Enough attention?"

This time his friends do laugh.

Shaun's face turns the color of strawberry jam.

What the fuck is your problem? Not my fault you're a trashy little shank.

Suddenly a hand is at my elbow and a voice falls into my ear.

C'mon. This is beneath you.

Ian!

He turns on his brother.

You shut your mouth and keep it that way.

Ian puts his arm around my shoulder, guides me away from the dissolving drama. Dueling emotions take aim inside me.

Relief. Hurt. Happiness. Fury.

We turn a corner and at the far end of the building, few eyes to see, Ian pulls me into his chest.

My eyes sting and my legs go weak and I let myself gather his strength.

255.

The first bell rings and I start to pull away, but his arms grip tighter.

Tell me what happened.

He looks down into my tear- blurred eyes, and next thing *

I know we're kissing. Really, truly kissing, like it's from the heart and we really mean it and there's no one else, never will be. Finally I have to come up for air. "I love you."

256.

It Just Slipped Out of my mouth, and the strange thing is, I really mean it. But still, I feel all jumbled up inside, like someone put my brain in a blender, turned it to "crush."

Ian's eyes tell me he feels the same way. I love you, too, you know I do.

But you always have me walking on eggshells. Oh, if you would just let me love you the way I want to...

Fire. Ice. Honey. Salt. Eiderdown.

Iron. Every fiber of me twitches confusion. I love him, and he loves me. So, then, "Why did you tell your brother that I sleep around?"

He draws back, but only a little, only enough to look deep into my eyes, show me the sudden anger in his.

I never said any such thing. Did he tell you I told him that?

"He said he heard you say I'm into other guys. Why would you say that? And who did you say it to?" Before he can craft an answer, the second bell rings.

257.

Saved by the Bell The hallways flood with bodies, faces, voices, hustling here and there. Locked together, despite the inner wedge, Ian and I draw a few stares. Definitely not the right time to continue such an intense conversation.

Can we talk about it later?

asks Ian, knowing I have little choice but to respond positively. He walks me to class, right arm protectively around my waist. Despite smarting at the wound of his careless words, I decide I like how I feel, joined to him in such an overt way. Especially when we turn the corner and come face-to-face with Madison and, just over there, Shaun.

258.

I'm Generally Not Big On smirking. But noticing how the smiles drop from both Shaun's and Madison's faces, I can't seem to help it. Booyah! Major smirk.

It gets better. Madison is no more than two feet away when Ian bends down to kiss me good-bye. I so totally let him, even though a very, very big part of me needs him to give me a plausible explanation so I.

can get beyond his brother's knife-edged words. "Talk to you later," I say as he walks past Madison. I can't help but think she's responsible, and I'm not sure what to do about it if Ian's story involves her. Ian. All thoughts of Madison evaporate.

I'm in love.

And I like how that feels.

And I hate how that feels.

Because love is an invention of fiction writers.

259.

Raeanne Glad I've Got History Today I need a major dose of Lawler to keep my mind off other things. I wish I could help Kaeleigh work her way past all the major crap so she could accept the good things waiting for her, almost within reach. Ask me, she doesn't need someone like Madison to mess things up for her. She sabotages herself.

C'est la vie.

It is life. Her life.

I.

suppose I myself am something of a self-saboteur, in a constant search for "more." More drugs.

More men. More sex. Do you think there's really such a thing as "enough"? The rhetoric draws a heartfelt sigh, and Mr. Lawler turns. Smiles. Oh yeah, I think I'm in love.

260.

I Swear His Smile Means more than "How's it going?"

Not that I'm a smile expert or anything, but something about that one sure reads "Damn, you look fine." Even correctly interpreted, though, it doesn't necessarily mean, "Let's sneak on outta here and do the dirty."

Whatever it means, as he passes out Monday's graded pop quizzes, he bends just enough for me to make out the thick ropes of muscles beneath his trousers. Abductors.

Hamstrings. Gluteus. Mm-hmm.

Oh yeah, I remember human anatomy. Especially his.

Committed to memory. He works his way down the aisle, and now his cologne settles around me, a soft, masculine cloud. When he reaches my desk, he leans slightly forward, and I notice the not-too-massive, totally hot patch of blondish hair peeking out of the open buttons just below his collar.

261.

His eyes smile.

Great job, Ms. Gardella. If only everyone in here cared about history the way you do.

He holds out my quiz, a big red A+ at the top. When I reach for it, our hands touch. Definite fireworks, and I'm 90 percent sure it's mutual.

I try to say thanks, but my voice feels like a wad of gum in my throat and it comes out all hoarse and weird, "Th...nksss." That makes me snort a little laugh. "Sorry.

Not sure what's in there..."

I leave the rest hanging.