Will.

The guy who helped stop my panic attack from taking me out this morning sits on the floor, his back against my locker, as his elbow rests on his bag. It doesn't take Sherlock Holmes to figure out he's waiting for me, or else he wouldn't be here in this empty hallway reading a math textbook.

A resigned sigh escapes my throat as my lips tighten.

I should have known that no one ever does anything for free. He helped me and now he expects some kind of reward.

In Bantry, this happened too. Maybe it's just something instinctual that guys pick up about me, but whatever it is, I hate this kind of attention. Especially from the type who act like they're nice and try to make you believe it, too, when clearly they're not.

I clear my throat and he glances up. I try to maintain eye contact but look away first from the intensity of his gaze. My skin flushes as it occurs to me that his staring might be because of the telltale signs I've been outside this whole time. Are my cheeks red from the cold? Do I have dirt or leaves on me? If I do, he says nothing.

He puts the textbook away and gets to his feet, his knapsack tossed over his shoulder. He takes a step toward me and then another until he stands way too close.

"You ready?"

"For what?"

It's his turn to look puzzled. "Didn't your sister call you?"

I frown, my stomach muscles clenching. I hope to God, this isn't going where I think it is.

"She didn't," he says, answering his own question.

"My sister called you?" I can't wrap my mind around this. How would Cassie even know anyone at my school?

"My aunt called." He sighs, not enjoying this either. "Your sister wants me to drive you home. She said she has the car keys, and you had to walk to school this morning?"

It's a statement, but he's turned it into a question he wants me to confirm. I reach into the front pocket of my knapsack and pull out my phone, swiping to my messages.

Nothing from Cassie.

I drop the phone back into my bag and squeeze my eyes tight in disgust. She gets how I feel about strangers-especially strange guys. If she's arranged this, which I suspect she has, it just crosses so many lines.

Moving past him, I start on my combination. "I'm sorry you waited, but I'm walking." I stoop and pull out my textbook from the bottom. It slips from my fingers when wooziness from a small breakfast and no lunch makes me lurch forward. I stand and put my hand to my head, willing it to stop.

"Here." He bends and takes the textbook, and tucks it inside my knapsack. "What else do you need from here?"

"Nothing."

"Did you bring a jacket?" he asks as he rises. He swings my bag over his shoulder so that he's carrying both.

When I don't answer, he strolls to the back stairs that lead to the parking lot.

I close my locker and run to catch up with him. Outside, the wind whips at my face and hair. The sky is heavy with dark clouds about to open up.

I breathe hard as I reach him by the side of a blue SUV. "I need my bag." I take more quick breaths. "I'm walking."

He opens the trunk and throws our bags in as if I didn't just this second, ask him not to. The sight of the confined space makes me shiver.

He ignores me, opening the passenger door. "Get in."

When I don't move, he sighs. "My Aunt Jenny works with your sister. She called me and said your sister's worried about you because of the storm. Now, we can argue about this for an hour, or you can just get in and I can get you home in five minutes before it even starts raining."

He waits, and when I still don't answer, he tries again. "I know you don't know me yet..." There's something about the way he says 'yet' that brings my gaze to his. He gives me a weak smile. "But I'm not letting you walk home," he glances up at the overcast sky, "without a jacket or umbrella when I could have you home in five minutes. It's not what we do here."

I lower my head. I don't want to get into that SUV, but now that Cassie has set this in motion, how can I stop it?

Still, I hesitate. I wish I could find the exact words to convince him that this isn't what I want. But there's no point. Those words don't exist. Guys can always sense when you don't have any real fight in you. And right now, after being around so many people, I'm drained.