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Authors: A. Destiny

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“Suz!” one of the rugby players shouted. “Feed us, woman!”

Susannah rolled her eyes and smiled at the player and his friends, then glanced at me. “Think I'm going to need a little help back here, Bailey,” she said.

“I've got it!” Simone exclaimed before I could answer. “I'll go make sandwiches. You stay right here, Bails.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but it was too late. She was already scooting behind the counter. Simone worked at Eats part-time in the summer, so Susannah just nodded as she pushed past, heading for the kitchen.

As the rugby players clustered around the register, Logan and I stepped back. “This seems like a cool place,” he said. “So your family has owned it for a long time, huh?”

“Ages. Since before my mom was born, actually.” I was glad he seemed to be ignoring Simone's ridiculous Nobel Prize comment. Still, I couldn't resist turning the topic back to science. “So your mom's a physics prof? And she went to MIT?”

“Yeah. She and Dad met there as undergrads. He's a science guy too—paleontology. He's been working on a book while Mom climbs her way up the academic ranks.”

“Works her way up?” I was distracted by the way his lips went a little bit crooked when he smiled, though I wasn't sure why. I didn't usually notice stuff like that about random strangers
unless I was doing research for a human-genetics project or something.

“Yeah,” he said. “First she was finishing up her PhD; then she had a bunch of nontenured jobs and stuff. So we've lived in a bunch of different places.”

“Really? Like where?”

Logan leaned against an empty table. “We just moved here from Switzerland. Before that was Boston—we were only there for a year—and then Tokyo and California. We also spent a couple of summers in Botswana for Dad's research. And one in Singapore
for Mom's.”

“Wow.” I wondered what it would be like to live that way—moving to a new city or country every couple of years.

“So what about you?” Logan asked. “Have you always lived here?”

“Uh-huh.” I shrugged. “Totally boring, right?”

“Oh, I don't know.” He flashed me that off-kilter smile. “There's something kind of nice about knowing where you belong. Maybe I'll finally find out what that's like. It looks like this time my family might actually stay put for a while.”

“Oh.” I'd observed Simone talking to guys for long enough to know that she'd probably have a flirty comeback for a comment like that. Me? Not so much. For a moment I'd almost forgotten I was talking to a guy. Now it all came crashing back, and Logan and I stood there staring at each other for what felt like forever but was probably only a few seconds.

“So,” he said at last, “what's the local high school like? I'm starting there tomorrow, and I could use any tips you can
give me.”

“It's okay, I guess.” I tried to think of something witty to say but came up empty. “Um, just a typical high school.”

The door flew open again. This time at least half a dozen more rugby players poured in. At the same time, Susannah hit the little silver bell by the register.

“Morse!” she called out. “Order's up!”

“That's me.” Logan glanced over. “I should get going, I guess. Looks like things are getting busy.”

“Yeah. They probably need me to help back there.” I stepped aside as a rugby player barreled past, shouting something about a bacon craving.

“Okay.” Logan hesitated, shooting another look in Susannah's
direction, then turning back to me. “I'll see you at school tomorrow, right, Bailey? You and—um, your friend.”

I blinked. Had my ears deceived me, or had this cute guy actually remembered my name—and forgotten Simone's? That had never happened before.

“Yeah,” I said just as Susannah shouted my name, sounding frazzled.

“Guess you'd better go. See you.” With one last smile, Logan eased his way through the shifting mass of rugby players to grab the big white bag with his name scrawled on it. I noticed there was a smiley face drawn in the
O
—Simone's work, obviously.

Seconds later he was on his way out. I watched him go, feeling oddly disappointed. I figured it was probably because I hadn't learned more about his mother. It was always cool to hear about successful women in science. It gave me hope that my dreams of becoming a biomedical researcher someday could actually come true.

Simone made a beeline for me when I entered the kitchen. “Well?” she demanded. “Tell me everything!”

“Everything?” I grabbed an apron from the hook by the door and tied it around my waist. “That'll take a while.”

“Ha-ha, very funny. You know what I mean.” She jabbed me in the arm with a latex-gloved finger. “Logan. You. What
happened after I left? Did he ask you out?”

“What? No!” I shot a look at my dad and Uncle Rick to make sure they hadn't overheard. “Are you crazy?”

“Girls!” Uncle Rick's voice rang out from the other end of the huge stainless-steel table, where he was rapidly assembling a pair of roast-beef subs. “More work, less gossip, please.”


You're
crazy if you missed the way Logan was checking you out,” Simone hissed.

There was no more time for talking. Which was just as well, since I had no idea what to say to
that
.

A. DESTINY
is the coauthor of the Flirt series. She spends her time reading books, writing, and watching sweet romance movies. She will always remember her first kiss.

CATHERINE HAPKA
has written more than one hundred books for children and adults, as a ghostwriter for series as well as original titles. She lives in Pennsylvania.

Read them all!

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Simon Pulse

Simon & Schuster, New York

authors.simonandschuster.com/A-Destiny
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Read the entire Flirt series!

Lessons in Love

Never Too Late

Portrait of Us

Sunset Ranch

Puppy Love

Love Is in the Air

Sparks in Scotland

Our Song

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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First Simon Pulse paperback edition December 2015

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Text copyright © 2015 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.

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Book designed by Regina Flath

The text of this book was set in Adobe Caslon Pro.

Library of Congress Control Number 2015953054

ISBN 978-1-4814-2118-8 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-4814-2120-1 (eBook)

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