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And then I realize: This is the perfect thing for me to deliver on for our pact. Good grades, making the team, and cleaning up your act are all well and good, but what says “parent pleaser” like a respectable girlfriend?

I shoot glances at Isabel for the next fifteen minutes until I finally catch her eye, then wave, just enough to remind her that she knows me. I’m relieved when recognition does in fact dawn on her angelic face.

I’m going to make this real for Salem, and if ithappensthat I get myself inducted into the school’s hot-girl clique at the same time, an undeniable cool-girl move, well. That’s just good planning.

I spend half of English on Friday trying to think up how to get my plan in motion at community service tonight, and half of it wanting to take the pen Salem will not stop clicking next to me and jam it through his brain.

“Must you?” I whisper fiercely as he taps his thigh with it in no pattern I can possibly discern. “I’m like three seconds away from luring you down to a cellar with a cask of amontillado myself.”

“Aw, look at you, doing the reading.” Salem uses his makeshift instrument of torture to tap the cover of the Poe anthology we’re studying this month.

“Clearly you did too, if you get the reference,” I point out.

“Touché. I do love me some Gothic literature.”

“A jockandan academic. Why Salem Grayson, you do contain multitudes.”

A faint smile tugs at his mouth—entirely against his will, I’m sure. “So,” I whisper while I have him in a good mood. “What’s with all the nervous pen flicking?”

“Who says I’m nervous?”

“Mr. Grayson? Ms. Riley? Something you’d like to share with the class?”

Salem and I immediately straighten up in our seats as Mrs.Frank draws the entire room’s attention to us. “No, ma’am,” we say simultaneously.

“Good.” She returns to the lesson, and I return to staring Salem down until he sighs.

“Just waiting for the tryout results to be posted, if you must know,” he mutters after a minute.

“I must,” I confirm with a grin. “So you’re really serious about this, huh? I’m so glad I got to see you in action.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“No, seriously. You’re really good, Salem.” Hey, we’re partners in crime, or at least in this pact. I can be generous. “I have literally zero doubt you made the team.”

He doesn’t say anything, just sketches something I can’t see in the margin of his Poe anthology, but the corner of his mouth curves up.

We stay well behaved for the rest of class, but before long I’m just as antsy as Salem to see his standing made official. As soon as the bell rings, I jump out of my seat, expecting Salem to be right behind me. But despite all that pen clicking, he’s taking his sweet time.

“Aren’t you dying to find the list?” I demand.

His face pinches slightly into an inscrutable expression. “It’s not a big deal.”

“What are you talking about? You were just…” I trail off as I realize. “Okay, you can’t act excited about this or whatever. But I can.” Before he can get out a word, I dash into the hallway, where the list has indeed been posted.

Salem Graysonis right at the top.

“Dude!” I double back to find him and give his shoulders an excited squeeze. “You made it. And I think we can both agree this is entirely due to my cheerleading. I’ll have to make it a regular thing.”

“You really do not,” he says dryly, but right now even he can’t suppress the tiny smile playing at his lips.

“We need to celebrate. How do we celebrate?” I lower my voice as we fall into step on our way to the science wing. “If you were still acting on your worst behavior, which of course you are not, how would you celebrate such a win?”

“You wanna get high with me on the roof?” he asks, eyebrow in the air. “Because that’s what my friends and I would do at home.”

“Tempting, but no. I’ve already decided my reign of terror will not include drugs.”

“Your reign of terror? Is that what you’re calling your planned badass phase?”