I shook my head.
“Finished her extra-credit report. When did you do yours?”
“This morning.” I raised my chin, but dropped it a second later, realizing the move highlighted the dark circles under my eyes. “At about three a.m.”
“That’s probably the only time you could.” Gordon stood, hands planted on the cafeteria table. “Think about it this weekend when you’re far away from her. Think about how you feel, about whether there’s any difference. Then decide whether or not I’m crazy.”
With that, Gordon walked away. I glanced toward Maya, bracing myself for that triumphant little smirk. Instead, she stared after Gordon, her red hair limp, eyes wide with a look I’d seen in my own.
It was terror.
I would never say I lived for the weekends. It was such a cliché.
But more and more it became my
