Time Between Us Read Free Page B

him, and now the tips of my ears are burning and my face has fully ignited. I flip around in my chair and reach down into my backpack, searching for a distraction. My hair starts to tickle my nose, so when I sit back up, I grab a handful of curls, twist it around my finger, and stick my pencil through the middle to hold it in place.
    Twenty minutes later, Argotta snaps my attention back to the room when he holds his arms out wide and exclaims, “Let’s do four practice groups today, okay?”
    I look down at my notebook and discover that its pages are covered with words and phrases and conjugations, which is surprising, because I don’t think I’ve heard a word Argotta’s said. He points to Courtney Breslin in the front row and says, “Count us off, señorita! Por favor. ”
    “ Uno .” And the count-off continues, snaking its way around the room until it comes to me.
    “ Cuatro ,” I say, and then I listen. And work hard not to move my head at all. A few minutes later, I hear what I’ve been waiting for. The voice over my shoulder says, “ Uno. ”
    At the end of the count-off, Argotta yells, “Bring your stuff,” and we begin moving around the room to our newly assigned sections. I’m in Group Four and Bennett is in Group One—clear across the room—and this is where we will stay for the remainder of the class. As quickly as he appeared behind me, he is now as far away from me as possible; but at least I can study him better from this angle.
    His uniform is the same as the rest of the guys’: Black pants and a white oxford shirt under a black V-neck sweater. I think he’s wearing Doc Martens, but it’s hard to tell from here. It’s easy to see what’s different: his hair. Most guys wear theirs in some conservative, neatly parted style. Others sport ultrashort Caesars or leave it a little long on top but shaved on the sides. But their hair is never this long. Bennett’s is unkempt, hangs just a little over his eyebrows, and looks like it hasn’t seen a brush in days. I can’t remember what he was wearing at the track, but the hair…That’s definitely the same. The hair I remember.
    When the bell rings thirty minutes later, everyone stands up and moves for the door, blocking my view. I rise and reach for my backpack, quickly deciding to talk to him on his way to lunch, but all I catch is the blur of his head as he vanishes through the doorway.

    When I go through the double doors to the dining hall, I spot him right away. He’s sitting alone at a table in the corner, with his back to the floor-to-ceiling windows. I make my way through the salad bar, grab a banana, and fill a large cup with Coke, all while stealing glances in his direction. As it turns out, I’m in no danger of being caught. In the five minutes it takes me to get my food, he doesn’t look up once. He just sits in his chair, holding a paperback in one hand while he picks at his food with the other.
    Danielle is already planted at our usual table, and as I set my tray down, I steal another quick look in Bennett’s direction. He spoons out bites of red Jell-O without looking away from his book.
    “Scoping out the new guy already?” Danielle asks.
    I look at her with surprise, then panic. “No.” I sit down and reach for my drink. “Why?”
    “Oh, come on! I’ve been watching you. I’ve never seen anyone work a salad bar with her eyes glued on someone twenty feet away. It’s impressive. Quite a skill.”
    The tips of my ears begin to burn. Again.
    She laughs and takes a sip of her Coke. “You’re talented, Anna, but you’re hardly subtle.” She moves close and gives my arm a reassuring pat. “Don’t worry. He didn’t notice. I don’t think he’s looked away from that book once.”
    Emma arrives breathless, plops her tray down on the table, and takes her seat. “So…what do we think?” She draws out the last word in a higher inflection.
    Danielle shrugs and tilts her chair back, balancing on the two back legs and