"If we get stuck in a black hole, I'm counting on you to get us out."

Drew's voice brings me back to our table, and a frown takes over my face. "What did you just say?" The question comes out sharper than I intend.

His smile wavers. "Oh. Um, you know. Like that poster over there."

I follow his gaze. Top 10 Reasons Why You Should Take Physics. Number ten: if you get stuck inside a black hole, you'll know how to get out.

My lips pull into a sluggish smile. "I'm not really the saving type."

He recovers from my harshness rather quickly. "It's a joke. You can't escape from a black hole. They're the thing of nightmares," he says in a creepy demon-like voice. "Like giant vacuums in the universe that bend light and warp speed, and destroy everything in their wake. Some people think that's how the world will end."

I shrug, barely listening.

A line appears between his brows. "Are you sure you don't mind being partners? If you'd rather trade, I can see if Mr.—"

"Don't do that!" I interrupt, trying to keep the words from stumbling over each other. "Sorry if I'm a little off—first day jitters, I guess. Being partners is great, but I'm not sure your girlfriend agrees."

Drew looks over his shoulder before turning back. "You may not believe this, but Kate's actually not so bad. She just doesn't like to share."

I let out an unattractive snort. "That's a nice way to put it. She looks at you like you're a slab of beef and she hasn't eaten in days."

He gives me a slow smile. "You think?"

"Don't you?" I can't hide my surprise. "No offense, but I thought Ice Queens were above romantic relationships—no one's good enough for them. How did you end up together?"

"Our fathers are best friends." Drew rubs the back of his neck like that explains everything. "Have you met my dad yet? He's the head master."

I'm about to respond, when Mr. Plavik interrupts. He waves a fistful of papers through the air. "In my hand are the three laws of thermodynamics. Once you go over them, you and your partner will discuss how energy is changed from one form to another, and how it applies to real life. This means I want real life examples that can be tested by real life people. When you're finished deliberating, write your explanations down on this piece of paper and turn it in. Any questions?"

In the front row, a girl raises her hand. "Will this be graded?"

"You haven't learned anything yet—it's just a fun activity for the first day of class. Any other questions?" Mr. Plavik cocks his head. "No? Good."

When Drew has our paper, he positions it on the table between us. "So," he says, looking over the definitions, "how are you?"

That's a random thing to ask after we've already had a conversation. I stare at the side of his face. "I'm...fine. How are you?"

His eyes meet mine. "No—I mean after your sister."

An odd sensation swells in my chest. This is the first time in a long while anyone has asked how I'm doing, and I don't know how to respond. I'm not even sure if I know, to be honest.

I swallow before answering. "How is anyone after something like that? For months, I was numb. It didn't even feel real, like I was watching a movie on TV, or this tragic news story about someone else's family. But she really is gone," I say, staring at a blemish on the table. "I think the finality of it is finally hitting me."

"I'm sorry. No one should lose someone the way you did. It's unfair to everyone they left behind." Drew leans closer, his face softening. His voice grows quiet. "Were you close?"

An unexpected wave of goosebumps stretch up and down my arms. "We were when we were little, but things got...complicated. And then she came here."

"Why didn't you come with her?"

I shrug. "My life went in one direction, and hers went in another."

That's putting it mildly. My sister and I chose two entirely different paths. She became an obsessive-compulsive overachiever, and I became the opposite. But sometimes, that's how trauma works. At least, that's what the school psychologist said after I slammed Jacob Ricciardi's head into a locker for snapping the back of my bra. We forfeited a three day suspension for two after-school meetings every week to address my "anger issues"—never mind the fact I was sexually harassed. I stopped going after our first session.

Drew waits for an answer.

I let out a sigh. "Ava wanted to focus on her grades and painting, and I—" I pause. "Well, I didn't give a shit."

"But you do now?" He gives me a funny look. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be nosy. I don't have any siblings—it's just me and my dad. I guess I'm curious about the dynamics. I don't understand why you would come here after everything that happened? But if you don't want to talk about it, we don't have to."

"It's fine." I shake my head. "Now that Ava's gone, I feel like I don't have anything left. Of hers, that is. I have her artwork and belongings, but those are just...things." Finally, I look up at him. "I thought being here would make me feel—I don't know. Closer to her somehow."

There is, of course, another reason.

"Do you?" he asks.

I don't have an answer. "So, you and Ava weren't friends then?" I say, turning the interrogation around to him.

"We were friendly, if that means anything." Drew blows out a breath and smiles. "Ava was very kind but very private—as private as anyone can be around here. But she was always interested in what others had to say, and was compassionate in a way I can't begin to explain," he says. "Like this one time when we went out for ice cream. There was this little kid in front of us in line and he didn't have enough money to buy a cone. The employee was a total ass and wouldn't let it slide. Ava stepped in and paid for it, and then she gave the guy a piece of her mind. And you know what she did next?" he says. "She walked away and refused to go back. Said she wouldn't support an establishment that didn't care about the community."

I laugh. "Yeah, that sounds like Ava." But then, something he said makes me pause. "Wait—you went for ice cream together? I thought you weren't friends?"

"Class trip," Drew says without hesitation.

And then he smiles, and before I can help myself, his blue eyes suck me in. And it's a nice place to be, floating around in his orbit. There's no other feeling like it—a woozy and nauseous rush, yet warm and euphoric like I'm on top of the world. Similar to a first drink.

He turns back to our paper. "Real life examples of how energy is changed from one form to another. What do you suppose that means?"

I can't hide my smile. "That he wants real life examples of energy changing from one form to another?"

"Very funny." The corner of his mouth lifts.

"So, like when a refrigerator is unplugged, and everything inside becomes room temperature?"

"What about this..." Drew shifts his chair until he's closer. "Excitement is a form of energy, right? Which means sexual excitement is, too."

I'm listening.

"When two people are together—and I mean, really together—they produce kinetic energy through movement, thermal energy through friction, and chemical energy through changes in their hormones. The simple act of intimacy transforms the energy in their bodies to different forms."

There's a flutter in my stomach, and I can't take my eyes off his lips. "Didn't Mr. Plavik say we needed to test these examples later in the semester?"

A muscle flexes in his jaw. "I mean, we can go with the refrigerator suggestion if you'd rather."

"I think we've pissed Kate off enough for one day, don't you?"

"Touche," he says with a grin. And then his smile disappears. "Seriously, though. If you need anything, don't be afraid to ask. It can't be easy starting a new school your junior year. Especially a school like this."

Am I that easy to read? "Thank you, I appreciate that. At least I landed a good roommate."

"Iris is the best. You definitely got lucky there." He pauses. "But I mean it. If you need anything... Okay?"

All I can do is nod, though I'll never take him up on the offer. Or at least, I shouldn't. I'm not looking to cause trouble. I've done enough of that in the past to know it never ends well for me—or for others.

I'm not here to make friends; I'm here to find answers. But there's something special about Drew McKenzie. He's not my usual type, yet he has a strange sort of intrigue I can't put into words. But I've inhaled it like air, and with every heartbeat, a curiosity is spreading inside me, pushing further into my cells.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't like it.