“It’s okay, I guess.” She shifted in her seat. Her curls fell further as she did.

Stop! Wyatt chastised himself with an internal groan at his stupidity. “Anything I can help with?” Kidney? Liver? My car?

“Well…”

Wyatt left her to her thoughts, though he’d have preferred to take them over. Hands on the table, he entwined and unlinked his fingers. Sure she could see the heat rise in his cheeks, he crossed his arms, propped one foot under the table and pushed to lean back.

“Let me know anything you need. I am the class president and all. I have some pull around here.” He gestured with a thumb toward the doors and levered himself back with his foot.

“Well… the girls? Here earlier?” Her head tilted so her hair trailed to her shoulder.

He itched to tug at it.

“They said there’s a dance coming up, and I should go.” She moved her hands to her lap.

Metal clambered against ceramic as he dropped the feet of his chair to the ground. “You could go with me. I could take you. We could go together.” He pointed back and forth between them. “I mean, I have to go ’cause I’m the-well, being neutral, I wasn’t going to pick a date or anything. But, it’d be great if you went with me. Right? I’d be happy to take you.” He smiled too big, spoke too fast. Heat rushed to his cheeks again, but he forced himself to maintain eye contact.

She looked back at him, her eyes wide. “That sounds like a lovely idea.”

“Cool!” Wyatt slapped his thigh, realizing he’d become a complete dork. One foot back under the table, he lifted the chair’s front legs off the floor again. “So, um, who’re you staying with?” He hadn’t nosed into personal details during their tour the previous day, instead kept it simple and straightforward.

“With a family on Turner Point.”

“No kidding. Wow. That’s a scary hill.” Wyatt scrunched his nose. “At the base?”

She shook her head, bouncing her curls. “The top. Not so bad in the daytime.” Her fingers moved back to the table top, drumming polished nails against it.