“Good sleuthing takes practice,...“So does sex,” came another back-of-the-room comment. We all bit back laughter while Coach pointed a warning finger at the offender.“That won’t be part of tonight’s homework.”

“Coach: "All right, Patch. let's say you're at a party. the room is full of girls of all shapes and sizes. You see blondes, brunettes, redheads, a few girl with black hair. Some are talkive, while other appear shy. You've one girl who fits your profile - attractive, intelligent and vulnerable. Dow do you let her know you're interested?"Patch: "Single her out. Talk to her."Coach: "Good. Now for the big question - how do you know if she's game or if she wants you to move on?"Patch: "I study her. I figure out what she's thinking and feeling. She's not gonig to come right out and tell me, which is why i have to pay attention. Does she turn her body toward mine? Does she hold me eyes, then look away? Does she bite her lip and play with her hair, the way Nora is doing right now?”

“Before I forget, here's your homework. Where do you want me to put it?"She pointed at the trash can. "Right there would be fine.”

“I’m starting a petition to have Coach fired,” Vee said, coming to my table. “What was up with class today? It was watered-down porn. He practically had you and Patch on top of your lab table, horizontal, minus your clothes, doing the Big Deed—”I nailed her with a look that said, Does it look like I want a replay?”

“One last thing," he said. "Stop looking for me.""I'm not looking for you." I scoffed.He touched his index finger to my forehead, my skin absurdly warming under his touch. It didn't escape me that he couldn't seem to stop finding reasons to touch me. Nor did I miss that I didn't want him to stop. "Under all the layers, a part of you remembers. It's the part that came looking for me tonight. It's that part that's going to get you killed, if you're not careful."We stood face-to-face, both of us breathing hard. The sirens were so close now."What am I supposed to tell the police?" I said."You're not going to talk to the police.""Oh, really? Funny, because I plan on telling them exactly how you rammed that tire iron into Gabe's back. Unless you answer my questions."He gave an ironic snort. "Blackmail? You've changed, Angel.”

“I need to get back to work,” Patch said. He gave me a once-over that lingered a bit below the hips. “Killer skirt. Deadly legs.”

“I take that back. If Hank wants to shoot Scott, he has my blessing.”