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“Are you going to eat that?” I ask, pointing to her mac and cheese.

“I already did,” she says.

I pull the tray closer to me. “A whole two bites.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice her looking past me again. This time, I turn to follow her gaze. My eyes land on none other than Daniel in his dark T-shirt and jeans sitting alone a couple tables over. His dirty-blond hair falls into his eyes.

I grimace, twisting back to face her. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

She blushes, and her eyes falter. “He’s cute.”

“Have you lost your mind? He looks like he eats puppies.”

She leans back with a funny expression. “He does not. He’s a vegetarian.”

I take in a breath and let it out slowly. “Please don’t tell me the reason you know that is because you’ve been staring at him like this every day at lunch.”

“I don’t stare. I observe,” she mumbles, pushing her glasses farther up the bridge of her nose.

“What else have you observed? How many times he’s been sent to detention? How many times he’s skipped school?”

Annie rolls her eyes. “That’s only happened a few times.”

I stare her dead in the eyes. “It’s barely the second week of school, Annie. Thesecond.I literally just saw him in the hallway getting into a fight with Josh. He’s bad news.”

“But he . . .”

“But he what? Has cute eyes? Does he smell nice—”

“He reads.”

My jaw drops. I’m pretty sure at leasthalfthe boys around us fit that criteria. I think she needs to raise her bar a little higher. “You can’t be serious. That’s it?”

“You wouldn’t understand. It was a Jules Verne book. A classic. He might look intimidating, but it’s an act. It’s got to be. Bad boys don’t read Jules Verne, Margo. I’m telling you, he’s secretly a cinnamon roll.”

I turn to get another look. He’s standing up, stuffing his things into his bag and leaving. He crumples up a wrapper and tosses it onto the ground.

“Would a cinnamon roll litter?” I ask.

“It was probably an accident.”

“Do you hear yourself right now?” I say as he kicks it under the table. “There’s no way you didn’t see that.”

She covers her eyes. “I saw nothing.”

I sigh.

Geoffrey slides in next to me at the table. “Hey, Margo,” he says.

Annie returns to her book.

“Hey,” I reply. “What’s up?”

“I need your help.”

“Of course you do,” Annie mumbles.

“I busted my shoes,” he says, lifting his foot slightly. “They’re limited edition and my favorite, but they are sold out. I can’t find another pair anywhere, but I figured if anyone could find another pair, it would be you.”