Rules Of Attraction Read Free Page B

some. Someone who likes sports, someone who can
    at least appreciate your interest in fixing up that stupid old car of
    yours, and—”
    “Shoot.” I jump off my bed. “I almost forgot. I need to go into
    town and pick up something from the auto-body shop.”
    “Please don’t tell me it’s fuzzy dice to hang on your rearview
    mirror.”
    “It’s not fuzzy dice. It’s a radio. A vintage one.”
    “Oh, goodie! A vintage one, to match your vintage car!” Tuck says
    sarcastically, then claps a bunch of times in fake excitement.
    I roll my eyes at him. “Wanna come with?”
    “No.” He closes my notebook and shoves it back in my desk. “The
    last thing I want to do is hang around and listen to you talk about cars
    with people who actually care.”
    After I drop off Tuck at his house, it takes me fifteen minutes to
    get to McConnell’s Auto Body. I pull my car into the shop and find Alex,
    one of the mechanics, bent over the engine of a VW Beetle. Alex was
    one of my dad’s students. Last year, after a study session, my dad
    found out that Alex works on cars. He told Alex about the 1972 Monte
    Carlo I’ve been restoring, and Alex has been helping me get parts for it
    ever since.
    “Hey, Kiara.” He wipes his hands on a shop cloth, and asks me to
    wait while he gets my radio. “Here it is,” he says, opening the box. He
    pulls out the radio and removes it from the bubble wrap. Wires are
    sticking out of the back like spindly legs, but it’s just perfect. I know I
    shouldn’t be so excited about a radio, but the dash wouldn’t be
    complete without it. The one that came with my car never worked and
    the front plastic was cracked, so Alex has been looking online to find
    me an authentic replacement.
    “I didn’t get a chance to test it, though,” he says as he wiggles each
    wire to make sure the connections are solid. “I had to pick up my
    brother at the airport, so I couldn’t come in early.”
    “Is he visiting from Mexico?” I ask.
    “He’s not visitin’. He’ll be a senior at Flatiron startin’ tomorrow,” he
    says as he fills out an invoice. “You go there, right?”
    I nod.
    He puts the radio back in the box. “Do you need help installin’ it?”
    I didn’t think so before I saw it up close, but now I’m not so sure.
    “Maybe,” I tell him. “Last time I soldered wires, I messed them up.”
    “Then don’t pay for it now,” he says. “If you’ve got time tomorrow
    after school, stop by and I’ll put it in. That’ll give me time to test the
    thing.”
    “Thanks, Alex.”
    He looks up from the invoice and taps his pen on the counter. “I
    know this is gonna sound loco, but can you help show my brother around
    school? He doesn’t know anyone.”
    “We have a peer outreach program at school,” I say, proud that I
    can help. “I can meet you in the principal’s office in the morning and
    sign up to be his peer guide.” The old Kiara would have been too shy and
    would never have offered, but not the new Kiara.
    “I’ve got to warn you . . .”
    “About what?”
    “My brother can be tough to deal with.”
    My lips turn into a wide grin, because as Tuck pointed out . . . “I
    love a good challenge.”
    THREE : Carlos
    “I don’t need a peer guide.”
    Those are the first words out of my mouth as Mr. House, the
    Flatiron High School principal, introduces me to Kiara Westford.
    “We pride ourselves on our peer outreach programs,” Mr. House
    says to Alex. “They help ensure a smooth transition.”
    My brother nods. “No problem with me. I’m sold on the idea.”
    “I’m not,” I mumble. I don’t need a damn peer guide because (1) it’s
    obvious from the way Alex greeted Kiara a few minutes ago that he
    knows her, and (2) the girl is not hot; she has her hair up in a ponytail,
    is wearing leather hiking boots with three-quarter stretch pants with
    an Under Armour logo peeking out the bottom, and is covered from
    neck to knee by an oversized T-shirt with the word