Chris slides onto the stool next to me and tosses his chemistry book on the table. “Congrats.”

“Thanks, but it’s not over yet.” I’m in first place in our March Madness pool, but there are still a few games to go, and Briggsy is right behind me.

“It is for me. I should never have picked North Carolina. They didn’t have a chance.”

“Yes, well.” I give him my sorry-not-sorry look. “I tell you every year to take emotion out of it. Sentimentality is for losers. You’re supposed to pick who you think will win, not who you wish would win.” I cough into my hand. “Coconut water.”

Chris laughs and punches my arm. It’s a light punch, not intended to hurt, but I recoil from it. Knowing what he and Lindsay have been up to makes physical contact with him unbearable. Is he in love with her? I mean, obviously he really, really likes her if they’re doing that, but does he love her? Part of me doesn’t want to know, but part of me needs to find out.

Just before the bell rings, Lindsay rushes in. She pauses and gives Chris a kiss on the cheek before flitting off to her lab table.

I lean in and whisper. “So, you two are getting pretty serious, huh?”

Chris shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, come on. You’re practically attached at the hip. And I see the way she looks at you.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

I sigh. “Chris, I’m your best friend.” It kills me to say it, but I force myself. “If you’re falling in love with her, you can tell me. That’s the kind of thing friends tell each other.”

His face registers somewhere between confusion and amusement. “Falling in love? Now who’s being sentimental?” He shakes his head. “She’s a great girl, and I like her and all, but … love? Huh uh.”

Ms. Gupta appears at our table. “Chris? Lexi? I apologize for interrupting your very important conversation, but in case you’ve failed to notice, I am trying to call the class to order. Perhaps there is something you would like to share?”

Giggles erupt from behind us, and I bite at the inside of my lip. Chris shakes his head, sending Ms. Gupta away.

This was, in fact, a very important conversation—important and disturbing. Could he really mean what he just said? A great girl. Seriously?

“Actually, I do have something I’d like to share.” I stand, ignoring the alarm in Chris’s eyes.

Ms. Gupta regards me warily. “Yes?”

“It’s … it’s something I noticed last night. My dad was making shepherd’s pie for dinner, and I was helping him. You know, peeling the potatoes and mashing them.”

Everyone is staring at me as though I’m crazy. Which clearly I am. Ms. Gupta nods. “I see. And what did you notice?”

“Well, he put it in the oven to bake, and it was supposed to take forty minutes, but I was starving, so I jacked up the temperature, figuring it would cook faster. Only it didn’t. It just burnt the top. The meat was practically raw.”

Jason Marks snickers and puts on his best Soup Nazi accent. “No shepherd’s pie for you!”

“Exactly.” I point at him. “And my dad was really ticked off.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “What’s your point, Malloy?”

“The point is, sometimes if you rush things, you can do more harm than good. The potatoes couldn’t handle all that heat, and they paid the price. It would have been better to go slow so the insides could catch up with the outside. I mean … if the inside isn’t ready, you need to let it cook longer until it is. Don’t go cranking up the heat.”

Ms. Gupta knits her eyebrows together. “Are we still talking about food?”

“Um. Yes.” I sit back down and glance at Chris, who appears completely mystified. “This was a true story. True and tragic. And a waste of a perfectly good shepherd’s pie.”

“I see.” Ms. Gupta points her stylus at me. “So tell me, Lexi. Why did the potatoes burn while the meat did not cook?”

“It’s like I said. I turned the temperature too high.”

“Yes? And?”

I glance around, hoping for some help from my classmates, but I’m the one who started this thing, and they seem to have no interest in bailing me out. “Because … heat … and … chemistry?”

Ms. Gupta sighs and launches into a lecture about moisture and dryness and something called the Maillard reaction while I concentrate on breathing and not throttling Chris’s neck. When class ends, I grab my stuff and dart toward the door.

“Hey.” Chris follows right behind. “Lexi, hold up.”

I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t even want to see him. One minute he tells me he’s not “like that” and the next, he’s messing around with a “great girl.” So which is it?

“Lexi.” He grabs my arm. “What was that about?”

“What?”

“The taking it slow and the heat and the burnt potatoes. What were you talking about?”

I shrug. “You heard Ms. Gupta. It’s the Maillard reaction. Who knew?”

“Come on. You and I both know you weren’t talking about shepherd’s pie. That was about Jerod, wasn’t it?”

Jerod? What the— “What are you talking about?”

“Have you been seeing him? Has he tried something?”

“What? No. What? Why would you—”

Chris pulls me to the side of the hallway and lowers his voice. “I asked around about him after the Virginia Beach tournament. Dude’s a player. You should stay away from him.”

I blink. My mind doesn’t know what to do with this information. Chris looked into Jerod? So maybe the flirting did bother him, and he wants to protect me—like a sister, no doubt, but still, it’s awfully sweet. On the other hand, who is he to talk? He can mess around with Lindsay, but I have to avoid Jerod?

I shrug out of his grip and turn to leave. “Appreciate the warning, but I’m a big girl. It’s under control, thank you very much.”