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one of the frayed vinyl couches behind a scratched table, a steaming black coffee in front of her, with her legs pulled up against her chest, thumbing through her battered paperback copy of Crime and Punishment and pretending she wasn’t sneaking a glance, every ninety seconds, out the dirty sunlit windows.
    Looking for Jake. Gaia’s new favorite pastime.
    The wall clock said 3:20.
    She knew that Jake had math class and that he’d told her he’d come to Starbucks right after he got out. So where was he, anyway?
    She kept trying to read her book, but she was finding it damn near impossible not to let her eyes drift back up toward the bizarre spectacle in the corner.
    For one thing, what the hell was this boy doing playing chess at Starbucks? He must just completely suck. But the longer Gaia watched him play, the more she was forced to give up that theory. He was good. Actually, from what she could see from this distance, he was very good. He was using the king’s gambit, for Christ’s sake. That wasn’t a maneuver for fake chess players. Who the hell was this kid?
    Jesus, now I’m doing it.
    Gaia suddenly realized that she was apparently no better than the worst of the FOHs. Now she, too, was staring shamelessly at the young chess prince. She shook it off and turned back down to her book. But it wasn’t long before her eyes had popped back up and begun to stare.
    Of course, there was another reason she probably found this image so compelling. Just how many perfectly sculpted young chess players were there in the world? Gaia had met only one other. And while this boy looked nothing like Sam Moon, how could she not be reminded of the very first time she’d laid eyes on Sam in the park?Inhumanly good-looking and unexpectedly skilled on the board—it was an unusual combination to say the least. It wasn’t that Gaia was attracted to the boy. Those kinds of feelings were now reserved entirely for Jake. But fascinated . . . she couldn’t help but be a little fascinated. And neither, it seemed, could any of the rich girls at school.
    â€œWait,” Laura said, leaning down by the boy’s ear in an act of shameless flirtation. “If you move your horse there, won’t he—?”
    The boy silenced Laura by simply placing his finger to his lips. He didn’t turn his head or acknowledge her presence in any other way.
    â€œSorry,” Laura whispered earnestly, melting back into the crowd. Gaia couldn’t help but smile a little at his total control over the bitchiest of girls and his utter disregard for one of the prettiest of the idiot crew. His priorities were clear. The game first. Doting ninnies later.
    â€œHey.”
    And finally, there he was—right in front of her. Jake Montone had stepped in front of her view of the chess game, big as life, complete with his gleaming white teeth and smooth olive skin. Gaia looked up at him gratefully as he dropped his book bag and collapsed into the chair opposite her.
    â€œHey,” Gaia said, smiling at him. It was clearly time for her to make a smart-ass comment about him beinglate. But that was so “old Gaia.”
    â€œWhat—no clever put-down?” Jake said, as if he’d read her mind. He leaned forward and swatted at the book in her hands. “All this Russian literature’s messing with your head.”
    And then they were staring at each other again. Gaia’s other new favorite pastime. This was happening all the time now—every time they met, it seemed. A few moments of awkwardly intense staring that continued to leave Gaia with an inexplicable rush of blood to the center of her chest. She always tried to pass it off as more of a staring contest, but she had a feeling that Jake could see past her competitive veneer.
    â€œHow freakin’ weird is this?” he said with a subversive little smile.
    â€œHow weird is what?” Gaia asked, feeling an unexpected