He turned in his desk to face me fully, and I permitted myself a quick glance at him. I don't always trust myself to do this. Not if I want me vocal cords to work. My throat tightened right on schedule.

What was it about Cal that made me feel like this? Well, he was gorgeous, for one obvious thing. But it was more than that. He was different than the other guys I knew. When he looked at me, he really looked at me. He wasn't glancing around the room, checking for his buds or trolling for prettier girls or sneaking quick looks at my breasts—not that I have any. He wasn't self-conscious at all, and he wasn't keeping score socially the way everybody else does. He seemed to look at me or Tamara, who was in advanced classes, too, with the same frank intensity and interest that he looked at Alessandra or Bree or one of the other local goddesses.

"So what do you do for fun the rest of the time?" he asked me.

I looked back down at my textbook. I wasn't used to this. Good-looking guys usually only talked to me when they wanted a homework assignment.

"I don't know," I said mildly. "Hang out. Talk to friends. Go to movies."

"What kind of movies do you like?" He leaned forward as if I were the most interesting person in the world and there was no one he would rather be talking to. His eyes never left my face.

I hesitated, feeling awkward and tongue-tied. "Anything. I really like all kinds of movies."

"Really? Me too. You'll have to tell me which theaters to go to. I'm still learning my way around."

Before I could agree or disagree, he smiled at me and turned to face the front of the room as Dr. Gonzalez walked in, thumped his heavy briefcase on his desk, and began to call roll.

I wasn't the only person Cal was charming. He seemed to like everybody. He talked to everyone, say by different people, didn't show favorites. I knew that at least four of Bree's friends were dying to go out with him, but I hadn't heard of any successes so far. I did know that Justin Bartlett had struck out.