When he smiled and waved, Leslie had to force herself not to go toward him. She always felt like that when he looked at her. There was an illogical urge to run toward him, like something was coiled too tightly inside her and the only way to ease the tension was to go to him. She didn't. She wasn't about to make a fool of herself over a guy who hadn't shown any genuine interest. Maybe he would, though. So far, their only contact had been under the watchful eye of Keenan or Aislinn, and that was usually interrupted by Aislinn's flimsy excuses to go somewhere away from Niall.

Aislinn put her hand on Leslie's arm. "Come on."

And, like they had so often, they walked away from Niall.

Leslie turned her attention to Aislinn. "Wow. Rianne said you were crazy tan, but I didn't believe it."

Aislinn's perpetually pale skin was perfectly tan, as if she'd been living on a beach, as tan as Keenan always was. It hadn't been that way on Friday. Aislinn bit down on her lip—a nervous habit that usually meant she was feeling cornered. "It's some winter thing—SAD, they called it—so I needed to get some sunlight."

"Right." Leslie tried to keep the doubt out of her voice and failed. Aislinn didn't seem depressed at all—or to have reason to be depressed lately. In fact, she seemed like she'd become rather flush with money and attention. A few times when Leslie had seen her out with Keenan, both of them had been wearing matching twisted golden necklaces that fit snugly around their throats. The clothes that Aislinn wore, the new winter coats, the chauffeurs, and—let's not forget—Seth's being cool with all of it. Depressed? Yeah, right.

"Did you go over the reading for Lit?" Aislinn pulled open the door and they joined the throng of people in the halls.

"We had a dinner thing out of town, so I didn't finish." Leslie gave an exaggerated eye roll. "Ren even dressed with all the required pieces of clothing."

They both continued to steer the conversation away from topics they didn't want to address. Leslie lied easily, but Aislinn seemed determined to direct the conversation toward neutral subjects. Eventually, she glanced behind her—as if there were someone there—and made another random topic switch: "Are you still working over at Verlaine's?"

Leslie looked: there wasn't anyone there. "Sure. It drives Dad mad that I wait tables, and you know, gives me a good excuse if I need to explain my weird hours."

Leslie didn't admit that she had to work or that her father didn't have a clue what she did for money. She wasn't sure her father knew she had a job or that she paid the bills. He might have thought Ren was doing it, although he probably didn't realize Ren was dealing—or selling me—to get his money. Talking about money, home, and Ren was so not the sort of conversation she wanted to have, so she took a turn shifting the topic. With a conspiratorial grin, she looped her arm around Aislinn's waist and assumed the façade she adopted with her friends. "So, let's talk about Keenan's sexy uncle. What's the scoop on him? Is he seeing anyone?"

"Niall? He's just…he's not, but…" Aislinn frowned. "You don't want to mess with him. There's prettier … I mean, better …"

"I doubt that, sweetie. Your vision's clouded by staring at Seth too long." Leslie patted Aislinn's arm. "Niall's top shelf."

His face was as beautiful as Keenan's but in a different way: Niall's had character. One long scar ran from his temple to the corner of his mouth, and he wasn't shy about it. His hair was cut so short that there was no chance of anything detracting from the beauty of that jagged line. And his body…wow. He was all sinew and length, moving like he had been training in some long-lost martial art since birth. Leslie couldn't figure why anyone would notice Keenan when Niall was around. Keenan was attractive enough, with his unnatural green eyes, perfect body, and sandy-blond hair. He was gorgeous, but he moved in a way that always made Leslie think he wasn't quite meant for civilization. He frightened her. Niall, on the other hand, was luscious and seemed sweet—kind in a way that Keenan wasn't.

Leslie prompted, "So relationships…"

"He doesn't, umm, do relationships." Aislinn spoke softly. "Anyhow, he's too old."

Leslie let it drop for the moment. Although Aislinn was spending much of her time «not-dating» Keenan, she kept her school friends separate from Keenan's crowd as much as possible. When they did intersect, Aislinn clung to Leslie like an extra limb, giving no opportunities for Leslie to have conversations with anyone who hung around Keenan—most especially Niall. For a moment, Leslie wondered if she'd be so intrigued by Niall if it weren't for Aislinn's playing keep-away. The more Aislinn acted as an obstacle, the more Leslie wanted nearer Niall. An older guy with a drool-worthy body and seemingly no bad habits to speak of and somehow forbidden: how could that not be appealing?

But Aislinn's plate was overfilled with Seth and Keenan, so maybe she just wasn't getting it. Or maybe she knows something. Leslie forced that thought away: if Aislinn had a legitimate reason to think Niall was bad news, she'd say something. They might be in the middle of this weird dance of secrecy, but they were still friends.

"Les!" Rianne shoved through the crowd with her usual exuberance. "Did I miss seeing the dessert tray?"

"Just two of the tasty treats today …" Leslie linked her arm through Rianne's as they made their way toward their lockers. Rianne was reliably good at keeping things light.